I was having a conversation with my agent this week about my new book Daily Skincare Journal (which you can pre-order ahead of its March 14 release!) and we got on the subject of this project, including the pop-up next week and how I’ve been feeling about Sunday Sauce overall. And, in truth, it’s been bringing up a lot recently, especially as I’ve committed to it in a more robust way. I have a schedule. I have a plan. And while that has made things easier from an admin point-of-view, it’s also made things more complicated from an emotional perspective.
For the longest time, I tried to distance myself from my identity as an Italian-American woman—an identity that so much of my family clings to so tightly. Maybe it was mental backlash from coming of age in the Jersey Shore era. Or maybe it was going to college in New York and being exposed to the feminist literature of Adrienne Rich and Charlotte Perkins Gilman and Audre Lorde. (All taught to me by a fellow Italian-American man, my English professor Rocco, who I still consider a good friend.) But I started to become uncomfortable with that identity, with the incredibly stringent gender roles, the stereotypes, and the thin definition of what it meant to be a “good” family member. So I shunned it.
Obviously, this project has asked me to confront a lot of that. And I’m trying to unpack what it means that I picked this project up around the same time that I met Ben, who I just celebrated one year with, and who is the man who factors into plans for the rest of my life. The closer I get to becoming a wife, the more I want to be in the kitchen. But is that a coincidence, or some biological fate that I was destined to fulfill?
I guess, when I really think about it, a lot of it has to do with my never feeling like a “real” Italian-American from New Jersey, because I didn’t fit others’ expectations of what that type of person looks, or sounds, or behaves like. So this project is a way for me to reclaim that, in a lot of ways, and to show a different aspect of this identity.
But it’s also about reconnecting with my family, especially my grandmothers, neither of whom are with us anymore. The family thing is huge, and I’m feeling it very acutely this week because, a lot of them will be at the pop-up next week. And I am constantly feeling the ghost of my grandmother in the kitchen with me. It’s spooky. I started the draft of this newsletter in my office this morning, and it smelled like her in there.
Maybe it’s because I made lamb chops with rice, which is a recipe that is so deeply connected to both her and my mother. It’s the original one pot recipe, in that you brown the meat and cook the rice together in one pot for about an hour. You’re going to love this dish. Just make sure to ask the butcher for lamb shoulder chops, specifically the blade cut.
Will I ever have the answers to all the questions Sunday Sauce has brought up for me? Maybe. And maybe one day I’ll organize those feelings into something resembling a coherent thought. But in the meantime, you can find me in the kitchen, working out my emotions with food, like generations of Italian-American women before me have done.
(And don’t forget to reserve your table for my pop-up next week!!)
INGREDIENTS
4-6 lamb shoulder chops (ask for blade chops)
1 large onion, diced
1 large can Hunts tomato sauce
3-4 cups chicken broth
1.5 cups white rice
Salt and pepper, to taste
INSTRUCTIONS
In a large, heavy-bottomed pan, heat a tablespoon of olive oil over medium until shimmering. Cook the onions until they’re slightly translucent, and then add in the lamb shoulder chops. Brown them, flipping occasionally.
Add in the tomato sauce, 3 cups chicken broth, and white rice and give it a good stir. Season with salt and pepper, to taste. Bring to a simmer.
Turn the heat to low and cover. Cook for about 45 minutes, occasionally stirring so the rice doesn’t stick to the bottom and scorch. You may have to add the additional cup of chicken broth as the rice cooks.
The dish is done when the rice is tender and the meat is cooked through. Serve hot, straight out of the pot, with a big, leafy salad.