Jeff Grossman
Jeff Grossman
"Every morning of the week except Sunday, Vincenzo’s grandmother Sara would wake at five o’clock to put the coffee on. By the time it was ready, her husband, Orazio, would have woken, washed and dressed as he always did, in black trousers. He would drink his coffee and eat a piece of bread before picking up a package and going downstairs. Until the early 1960s, the basement was a stable for his mule, Giuseppina, and later—once his eldest son, Tot., learned to drive—a home for the tractor that would take them both to the land they rented on the edge of the province. They would arrive in the field at about 6 o’clock and work until 10 o’clock, at which point he would open the package, which contained bread, tuna, caponata that Sara had made, and a litre of his own wine."
