I am fortunate to have married my best friend and lifelong love. Our story began when we were both teenagers. I had a mutual friend with her sister, and one Saturday afternoon, my friend asked if I wanted to make tomato sauce. Always eager for a new experience, I agreed. Sitting still is not my thing, so we headed over to my wife's parents' house. As we approached the door, the delicious smell of cooking tomatoes filled the air. If you’ve ever lived near an Italian family, you know exactly what I mean.

My wife’s sister answered the door and welcomed us in. My now out-laws greeted us with open arms and put us right to work. At that time, I had seen my now-wife only once before, briefly at her sister’s condo. I remember her walking down the stairs, ready to leave for work, and I probably stared at her while she spoke to her sister in Italian, blissfully unaware of what they were saying. My friend nudged me to help break my trance and ensure I didn’t end up “sleeping with the fishes.” That day turned into a 12-hour marathon of boiling, crushing, making, and jarring the family sauce.

Fast forward about 20 years, and the family tradition is still alive and well. Our children have been joining us for many years. In August, my in-laws start the hunt for the best tomatoes they can find. I have yet to master this skill, but it requires a special touch and the ability to negotiate the right price. This year, we ended up with 10 cases of Roma tomatoes, each weighing 25 pounds.                                                                                                                                  

Typically, the sauce-making process takes an entire weekend. We start by cleaning all the tomatoes on Friday night. On Saturday morning, we're up early, slicing them and beginning the boiling process. One of my favorite parts is using the grinder, which the kids enjoy most as well. As we grind the tomatoes, we fill a 15-gallon stainless steel tank, which serves as the base for our family sauce. This base then returns to the stove in a pot to boil. That’s where the magic happens, as we add our secret ingredients. Of course, I can’t divulge what those are, even though everyone knows the general practices of most Italian families.

The final step is jarring and tightening the lids, a task I’ve been responsible for for the past few years. It’s a delicate process; you have to make sure no sauce gets on the threads of the lid, or you risk ending up with a bad jar—something no one wants. Also, it's important to note that jars can explode. Luckily, I’ve never experienced that, but I’ve seen it happen, and not only is it a messy ordeal, but it can also result in burns.

This year, we jarred 100 quarts and 24 pints, totaling 28 gallons of family sauce—another year full of unforgettable memories. I look forward to the day when I witness our children bringing a "friend" over to help carry on the family tradition, and I hope to see the same spark in their eyes that my out-laws experienced.