Because I’m wont to clean as I cook, I tend to be a bit hasty in my actions and clumsy. While my chicken cutlet was frying, I began to wipe up the counter top and accidentally knocked over the saltshaker. It was full to the brim. “Was” being the operative word.
Normally, I would react by grabbing the shaker and tossing a bit of salt over my left shoulder, hitting the devil in the eye to buck the onslaught of a bad omen. I picked up the superstitious habit from my mother, who no doubt picked it up during her formative years.
This time, however, I gave pause.
In a split second, I realized there was a bit of lunacy to what I had considered normal behavior.
So, I simply placed the saltshaker upright next to the pepper. It was a surreal moment. In fact, my recollection of it plays like a slow motion movie scene.
Now, I fear resisting these Italian superstitions will dilute our traditions.
What are your thoughts?
Mangia & Enjoy!