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8 SOLERA DIAMOND VALLEY | JUNE 2017 By Theresa Rossetti, Resident Once upon a time, a baby girl was born in a land named Brooklyn. Her Mother and Father raised her in a green and lovely land known as Queens. There she lived a sheltered life; growing up, attending school, avoiding sports, etc. Not far away, a boy was born in a land called Manhattan. His Mother and Father raised him in a land called The Bronx. He also lived a quiet life; growing up, attending school and playing sports. Both children had small but boisterous extended families. Obviously, these two children had much in common. Or did they? The girl's family ate exotic foods such as smoked ham, hamburgers, pork chops, and liver and onions (yuck!). The boy was not as fortunate. He ate common food, such as ravioli, lasagna, braciole and spedini. He was unaware of the exotic fare that was served to the girl. She did not have much knowledge of the boring items that the boy's family ate. As luck (?) would have it, the girl and boy met. They started to do something referred to in olden times as "date." As time went on they were introduced to the foods of the other's family. The boy's family was astounded at the new taste sensations that they were introduced to! The boy's mother was so enthralled by the Smoked Ham that she asked the girl for the recipe so she could cook this for her family as well! At the same time, the girl's family was introduced to the food eaten by the boy's family. They tasted it and were quite surprised at how good this food was. The girl was unfamiliar with the ingredients used to make these new foods. So, she spent quite a bit of time learning about them. Food such as mootz-a-dell, rigott, gal-a-mar, brosciutt, gabb-a-gul, and sfool-ya-dell. She learned to pronounce these words, and use these ingredients on the rare occasions she cooked. (She has already told you many times that she doesn't cook very often, although her children never starved. Her Mother-in-Law was only capable of cooking for a horde, so there were a LOT of leftovers every week!) While the girl and boy lived Happily Ever After, the girl learned that you can't always trust what comes out of your Mother-in-Law's mouth. It seems that many, many people do not pronounce the words in italics above the same way she does. They call this food "mozzarella," "ricotta," "calamari," "prosciutto," "capicola" and, well, really no one can pronounce "sfogliatella." The moral of this fairy tale is: Keep your mind open to new experiences, including new tastes and sounds. And forgive me if you can't understand some of the things I say. My Husband's family and I may pronounce things differently than you do, but the taste of good food unites everyone! Once Upon A Time...

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