recipe card microstories: casserole italiano

watching the river run

A recipe from my boss at the A&P, the little market in the mill town where I became an adult, daughter-in-law, divorcee.

The A&P: where I cashiered after old Charlie died and the nursing home job grew heavier than my sorrow.

The A&P: where we swapped gossip and recipes, in the days when we called pasta “noodles.” When tomato soup was considered a vegetable.

The A&P: where I paid for my groceries with coupons clipped from the Sunday newspaper, counting out food stamps like Monopoly money.

The mills shut down. The A&P went bankrupt. And still, the river flows.

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