there’s times then there’s times when i’m more italian than chinese or asian. yeah, my olden friends realize this. this euro rooted boy has got some serous asian roots from some damn place or another. but that ain’t why i’m here.
i venture back to those days of my youth and my maternal grandfather, luigi. he never became a us citizen. nope. my grandmother did back in the late 50’s. luigi never did. not sure just why but it was what it was.
nono or grandpa, had lots of stuff happening. tonight, after dinner, i went back to my youth and one of his semi sorta rituals.
he couldn’t eat a biscotti or any cookie, for that matter, unless it was dunked in a glass of dago red. yeah, don’t knock unless you’ve tried it. any damn cookie. chocolate chip. one of those peanut butter deals. or maybe some wafer thingy. perhaps strawberry. macaroon? damn straight.
it doesn’t matter. cookies and vino. dago red is best for some reason. sure i’ve tried cookies and white vino and it doesn’t work. ok, it works on some sorta level but it doesn’t sing. cookies and dago red sing. big time.
sure there’s cookies and milk. a wonderful invention if there ever was one. count on it. dunk and soak what the hell ever kind of cookie in the milk. soak it up then eat it. sweet. childhood lives forever. yep.
same deal. cookies and vino. i have or had some sort of cookie with macadamia nuts and white chocolate. yeah. nice. i dunked em up in some dago red. same deal as milk. ah. nice. one of life’s small pleasures.
perhaps not for the kiddies but i was once one and i was allowed at times to dunk biscotti in some dago red. a kid’s dessert turned adult. one of those italian deals turned immortal.