Anthony was a little kid living in Boston's North End whose mother would call from the townhouse window, summoning him home to a fine 1950s-'60s style weekly pasta dinner made from Prince spaghetti, because "Wednesday is Prince spaghetti day!" As a kid growing up watching TV in those days, I wondered why Wednesday was so special. I've finally figured it out.
It's not just because a dedicated pasta day would sell more Prince spaghetti.
It's because, now that I've taken up cooking the daily dinner for Mom and myself, I finally realize how difficult it is to come up with something new and interesting to eat every single day! Seriously. There are just so many variations on a theme (and a more limited theme than when I was cooking just for myself). I'm helped partially by Mom's short term memory losses but I really don't want to have to count on that to get me by.
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