I inherited my Nonna's sauce pot

+ recipes for Sunday dinner: risotto and bolognese

a few weeks ago I inherited my Nonna’s sauce pot.

In a series of clips that have since popped off on social media, you’ll see my Uncle Michael revealing the pot and giving a short speech about passing it on to the next generation before scanning the room until he finds me. There’s a collective “Maddddyyy!!!!” from everyone as I stand up and burst into tears as my cousins, aunts, and uncles look on teary eyed and clapping. It’s a moment I’ll never forget.

It happened in the dining room of Nonna’s home in Paramus, NJ where she lived for over 60 years and where my dad and his 6 older siblings grew up. She passed away in December at this same home, 2 months shy of her 97th birthday, surrounded by her family.

If I’m being honest, her death hit me harder than I anticipated. I think I naively held the belief that the older someone got, the less surprising their inevitable death would be, and therefore the less sad I would feel. After all, people get old and then they die. It’s the circle of life. In the months leading up to her passing, when it became clear the end was near, I still thought to myself ‘dying at 96 is hardly a tragedy!’—especially after living a life as long and historic and family-filled and determined as Dr. Marie DeVita.

Nonna’s passing, to my own surprise, was not any easier just because she was old or because she lived a long, good life.

I describe Nonna’s life as historic for a number of reasons.

She was one of four women to graduate her Georgetown Medical School class in 1954 and worked as a family physician for over 60 years, converting the first floor of her Paramus home to an office, fit with a waiting room, receptionist, lab, and 3 exam rooms where she saw her patients. She raised her 7 kids in this home, much of the time as a single mother after she divorced my grandfather. She retired as a physician only a few years ago in 2020 at the age of 92. She was a doctor to some of her patients for their entire life. It’s remarkable.

She was the youngest of 7, had 7 children, 25 grandchildren, and 6 great grandchildren

For most of my life, I was always a little bit afraid of Nonna, and had a pretty formal relationship with her. At family gatherings my sisters and I would timidly weave our way through the aunts and uncles and cousins to find her, say hi, and give her a kiss on the cheek. She would always ask how we were doing in school, to which we would say “good”, to which she would curtly nod in a simultaneous approval and dismissal to run along so she could continue talking to the grown ups.

Cooking with Nonna

It was only during Covid, when I began to visit her in Paramus and cook with her, that I developed a relationship with Nonna that felt uniquely my own. Over the course of many visits, she would teach me all of the recipes she grew up making her kids, and later grandchildren, but never wrote down. My sister would join me to record the visits, and I would post clips on my (at the time) new food account ‘@handmethefork.’ Though Nonna’s curt demeanor carried into the kitchen—often scolding me not to ‘burn the garlic’ and never shying away from honest feedback—she was almost always pleased with how the meal turned out, commenting '‘superb” or “wonda-ful” after the first bite with a proud nod in my direction.

peep the sauce pot on the stove!!!

Over the years, as she became more immobile, Nonna joined me at the stove far less, opting to remain seated at the kitchen table and instruct me from across the room. The last few times I visited, I was no longer making her recipes, as we had exhausted them. Instead, I cooked my own creations for Nonna to try. Her sauce pot, which she purchased in medical school at People’s Drug Store for $4.95 (there are mixed origin stories, some claim it was a wedding gift), was almost always used.

The Sauce Pot

Nonna’s sauce pot has been a source of banter in my family for decades. My uncles would joke about calling dibs on it, and these claims quickly trickled down to the next generation. When she finally passed away, I had no expectation of joining the short-list of potential recipients. After all, my dad and his siblings were the ones with all the memories of their mom standing at the stove stirring the sauce.

So, when Nonna’s granddaughters all gathered in her home on a sunny January day to honor her and each select a piece of her jewellery to inherit, I was completely surprised to see my uncle pull out the pot, let alone receive it.

Nonna had fabulous taste (in food and style) as I also inherited a pair of her earrings and coat

You guys, I still can’t talk (or type) about it without welling up with tears. It’s such a privilege to have her pot in my own kitchen and know my dad and his siblings all wanted it to go to the next generation despite the heirloom meaning so much to each one of them. It’s also a responsibility I don’t take lightly, and I look forward to having my extended family over for many many dinners (just maybe not all at once).

The inaugural meal

I had my cousins over to christen the pot for the first time a few weeks ago and supplemented the risotto with a bolognese to make sure all 12 of us left full and happy. When I use her pot, I swear the food smells different, like it did cooking with her in her kitchen.

The Recipes

Lemon and Parmigiano Risotto

Nonna’s signature risotto actually includes a pomodoro sauce, but I wanted to balance out the bolognese without something bright and citrusy. I think she would still approve of this version.

you need:

• 2 tbsp unsalted butter

• 2 tbsp olive oil + 2 tbsp more at the end of cooking

• 1 small yellow onion, finely diced

• 2 cups arborio rice

• 1/2 c dry white wine

• 8 cups high quality chicken stock (might not need all)

• zest and juice of one lemon

• 1/2 c freshly grated parmigiano, plus more for topping

• kosher salt

what you do

Melt butter and oil in a large pot, then add onion and 1 tbsp kosher salt. Cook onion over medium heat until translucent and softened but not caramelized, 7-8 mins. In a separate sauce pan, heat up the chicken stock. Add rice and another tbsp of salt to the onions and stir until the rice is fully coated by the mixture. Add white wine, and continue stirring until fully absorbed. Begin adding the chicken stock 2 ladles at a time, stirring constantly, and not adding more until the risotto has fully absorbed the liquid. Continue adding chicken stock and stirring until risotto is just al dente, 30- 40 mins. Taste and add more salt as needed. When the risotto is done, add a final ladle of chicken stock, lemon zest and juice, grated parm, and 2 tbsp of good olive oil. Stir vigorously for 1 minute to combine and achieve a creamy, smooth consistency. Serve immediately.

Bolognese

per pound of pasta, you need:

• 2 large carrots, peeled and finely chopped

• 3 celery stalks, finely chopped

• 1 large yellow onion, finely chopped

• 1.5 pound mix of ground beef, pork, and veal

• 28 oz can San Marzano peeled tomatoes, passed through a food mill or broken up by hand

• 1 bay leaf

• 1/2 c whole milk

• kosher salt

• extra virgin olive oil

• parmigiano

what you do:

In a large pot, heat a few glugs of olive oil over medium heat. Add in your veggies along with ~tbsp of salt. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, for 25-30 mins until veggies are soft, onions are translucent, and everything is beginning to caramelize. This may seem like a long time, but low and slow is the name of the game and secret to flavor in this recipe.

Move your veggies to the side of the pot and add in ground meat, using a wooden spoon to break up slightly. Turn the heat up and allow to cook untouched for ~5 mins or so to allow the meat to caramelize. Continue to cook, stirring frequently, until meat is no longer pink. Add in tomatoes, then fill up the can 3/4 full with water and add to the sauce. stir to combine, then add bay leaf and another tbsp of salt. Simmer sauce on low heat for at least 2 hours, stirring frequently.

The sauce will reduce as it cooks. if at any point the sauce looks a bit too dry, add in another cup of water and continue to simmer. Taste and season with additional salt as needed. Stir in milk just before cooking your pasta.

Cook your pasta in very salty water until al dente. Drain and mix with your sauce until combined. Serve immediately and top with freshly grated Parmigiano.

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If you end up trying one of the recipes, let me know what you think. You can be honest… I can take it :)

That’s all for this week. I’ve been throwing myself back into private cheffing and it’s the wake-up call I don’t always want but definitely need. Maybe I’ll chat more about that next week…

Until then…

xx,

Maddy