Just like my paternal grandmother’s, which she used on Polenta. “Makes a nice-a sauce”, she would say as she caught the sparrows in the pigeon loft by swatting them with a
broom or popping them into a brown paper bag and whacking it on a beam. I have never felt more Italian…….
Here she is in the back of a car driven by my dad, in ’38:
"Don't tell nobody…"