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Angie's Italian Kitchen By Jerry
Her day would start in morning at 5:30,
she'd share with Dad a cup of coffee.
It was here in the kitchen they started their day,
and listen to what each other had to say.
Dad would leave for work, give mom a kiss,
and then she'd make her shopping lists.
Gather the ingredients, pots and pans,
this was all a part of her plans.
By 6:00am she was off to the store,
the first one there that's for sure.
Angie knew the manager & butcher by name,
and they knew hers just the same.
The butcher would ask "what will it be today?",
Angie said "I want a nice piece of filet".
"Don't take from the display case that's not for me",
"please get me a fresh one from today's delivery".
"And when you are done show me the fish",
"I just decided to try a new dish".
She'd go to the register and never think twice,
open her wallet and say "what was the price?"
When Angie got home now she would start,
her own special recipe she knew by heart.
A pinch of this, a splash of that,
turn it over and give it a pat.
Most her recipes were in her head,
from dinners to deserts, even her bread.
People would ask her for her recipe,
and Angie would say "I don't know exactly".
"I use what I think tastes good together",
"and of course it depends on the weather".
"A list of ingredients is no recipe",
"for the best thing I add is the love from me".
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