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    Posted February 23, 2014 by
    Melbourne, Florida
    This iReport is part of an assignment:
    Who taught you to love food?

    No One Loves Food Like an Italian

    My father died two days ago. He took his last breath surrounded by his family. We were drinking wine, telling stories, and sharing our love. Because I knew it would probably be his last day, I spent the afternoon simmering a pot of sauce. While he hadn't been able to eat for several days, I know how powerful the sense of smell is, and I thought it would be a pleasant background for him.

    I've always equated my father with food. And not just any food, the traditional Italian-American food. For us, it wasn't usually about the food itself, it was more about the family and the community that came together over the food. Whether it was family dinners at my grandmother's house on Sunday, or the huge holiday gatherings, where there was family, there was food. And where there was food, there was love.

    Even today, I say a little prayer over the food I prepare for my family. I want to instill my love into the very essence of the meal, so that everyone feels a bit of what I feel for them.

    So Dad, you will be dearly missed, but your love of food and family will carry on with all your children and grandchildren.
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