Her day usually started early in the morning, at about 5 a.m. On Sundays, we were awakened by the melodious sounds of clamoring pots. Yep, Mom had already started the sauce; it would simmer for hours, and she’d make enough to last for weeks. At 8 a.m, with a babushka wrapped around her head, she dashed off to an early Mass.

Once a week, she baked her delicious bread and pies. Our favorites were the “pichaladit,” rolls made with anise seeds, quickly doused in boiling water, then baked. The aromas of her baking were heavenly, escaping from the house to seduce the neighbors. Monday’s were wash days. She dragged her heavy oblong copper tub, placed it on a two-burner stand, and soaked the whites in scalding water.