Some people crave chocolate, cookies, ice cream, Snickers, M&M's or Almond Joy. I crave focaccia. It started out innocently enough and at a very young age. As a child, we would go to Santa Cruz to visit Uncle Mill (Emillio) my aunt Rose who we all called Gog..I still to this day don't know what that means..and Noni, my great grandmother. Every Sunday we made the pilgrimage over Highway 17 from Los Gatos over to the beach. It took only 30 minutes, but when your 8...it felt like FOREVER. But it was worth it. We went for lunch, but it was more like dinner. And served at one o' clock. Uncle Mill always had something on the grill. Usually lamb or pork. Gog and Noni would be in the kitchen making the raviolis. The pasta stretched into long thin sheets, filled with swiss chard from the garden, ricotta and herbs. After the raviolis were boiled, they were slid into a big earthenware bowl and dressed with just butter and sage. And then, the best part. The focaccia. All salty and both crunchy and soft. One bite, and a lifelong love was born.
the night will never stay, the night will still go by, though with a million stars you pin it to the sky; though you bind it with the blowing wind, and buckle it with the moon, the night will slip away like sorrow or a tune.