Right after I turn off my sauce, it’s my tradition to have just a little taste to make sure it tastes good.
I pick a small bowl and put one meatball and one sausage in it. I top it with a little sprinkle of parmesan cheese. I always stand next to the pot on the stove and eat it. I think I always say, “Oh damn, that’s good.”
It’s not really that I need to find out if it tastes like “my sauce” because I have already tasted the tomato sauce a few times to adjust the seasoning. It’s because I have to taste it after smelling it for hours on end.
Ever since Sam was little, whenever he sees a pot of sauce on the stove he gets a big smile on his face. He takes the same kind of small bowl and does the exact thing I do, having just a little taste.
Today, he came down in his scrubs, and while fixing his coffee before heading off to his overnight shift, he asked, “What’s in the pot?” He asked this with a big shit-eating grin on his face. He knew what was in the pot from the smell of the house.
He wasn’t going to have time for his little taste, so he packed up his little bowl along with two slices of his favorite butter bread to go. He likes to get to the hospital early before starting his shift so that he can eat it then.
I always think Sam is like Marty with his intelligence and interests, but I know he is very much like me with everyday life stuff. I already know my oldest son Noah is very much like me artistically and personality-wise. This all makes me very happy. Happy Mama Julz. 🥰
Oh my gosh I do that also. Just a little bite to taste test. Cooks prerogative I always say! Your photos are making my mouth water on this very snowy and freezing day here in NH