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All that matters is now.
Sometimes you know a scene you’re beholding will be etched in memory. I knew it yesterday as I watched my 80-year-old dad sitting at the kitchen table grating a big block of Parmigiano Reggiano on the finest side of a 4-sided grater, as every Italian knows parmesan cheese ought to be grated.
Meanwhile, my mom was six feet away at the stove minding the cylinder-shaped tortiglioni my dad so loves, and that, sometimes, Whole Foods carries.
They were totally in the moment, sharing the experience of preparing a good meal as if it were the only thing that mattered. Because it was the one thing that mattered.
More on my parents:
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