I don’t eat escargot. I never have and probably never will.

When I was young my family gathered at my grandmother’s small apartment in the Bronx in New York every Sunday for dinner. My Italian grandmother would cook in her old fashioned kitchen for all my aunts, uncles and cousins every Sunday - it was a ritual.

I remember one Sunday well. I walked into the kitchen as Grandma was at the stove cooking. She had a big iron pot on the stove and a large wooden spoon in her hand. She was wh...


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