- Date
- Tag
- Kitchen
- Length
- 6 min read
What My Kitchen Smells Like at Nine in the Morning
A pot on the stove, the shutters half open and the day’s sauce.

One family recipe every Thursday, with the story that goes with it.
Free, every Thursday · 9,400 readers
A pot on the stove, the shutters half open and the day’s sauce.

A pot on the stove, the shutters half open and the day’s sauce.
What we do with forty lemons, from granita to preserved peel.
A stained notebook, a lemon beside it and four pages I still use.
A street in the afternoon heat and a lunch worth waiting for.
How a small flat feeds six on a Sunday.
What the boats bring in and the three ways I cook it.
Flour, a wooden board and a habit of sixty years.
A day of jars, and the one rule about salt.

Digital downloads
Thirty family recipes from the letters, all in grams.
Busiate, cavatelli and four more shapes, rolled by hand.
Twelve uses for lemons from the courtyard tree, on one card.
Plan a table for six with the order to cook each dish.

About
I crossed the strait twice a day for most of my working life, and I ate at my mother’s table before and after every shift. When I retired I started writing down what she cooked, in the order she cooked it, because nobody had done it before me.
These are plain recipes for a small kitchen: pasta, tomatoes, lemons, fish when the boats are in. I give the quantities in grams and tell you where I cut corners. Readers write in, and some Thursdays the letter is an answer.