Betty's Dish Made It To Sarasota, Florida. Or did it?

Back in the day.  Once upon a time.  

There were three sisters.  Mary, was the youngest.  Betty and Millie.

The three sisters used to get together and make insane amounts of food in their various kitchens and share it.  

Mostly with Mary and Betty.  I did not really know that Millie was as frequent a beneficiary of these potlucks as Mary was.

Mary was my mother.  Betty and Millie were my aunts.

Very strong women.  Forces of Nature.  Italian women.  Family lore said that Mary only spoke Italian until she was 7 years old and still could speak a little by the time I was 7 years old.

Typical immigrant story, you are expected to integrate into the larger culture as much as possible.

For better or worse.

Regardless of languages, these women made some amazing food.  From family tradition, they would make plenty of Italian Specialties.  It's a large family, they were always feeding each other.

In fact, I could not get properly fit until I moved out from Mary's house.  Getting fit is a habit I kept to this day.  

Aggressively, assertively.

Once Mary was preparing a meal at her house with the fill in from Betty.  You know, cooperative cooking can be fun and there were some things that Mary did not make as well as Betty did.

That was Betty speaking.  I couldn't vouch for that, but I did know how it would get to Mary's Kitchen.  White Corning Oven Safe Casserole dish.  Cornflower Blue flower pattern on the side.

Really everything was so good that I did not want to get in the middle of this contest of "My Sauce Is Better Than Yours".  I did know that since we were in Philadelphia Area, our Amoroso's Rolls were better than what I had when I went to Betty's house in Queens, NY.

Finast, Indeed.  

I would take some stew meat called Bracciola or a piece of Italian Sausage and put it in a Hoagie Roll with plenty of that sauce and dust with excellent Parmesan and be in heaven.  I am still burning those calories many years later.

The meal was a success.  Mom really did like having her sister down, even if they were two cut from the same cloth.  Both were a force of nature level of strength.  I knew that eventually I'd hear one or the other yelling and it would be a "Discussion".  A Loud Discussion.

I'd disappear at that point either into the basement or into the garage and busy myself with something appropriate and let the dust settle until I was called for dinner.

After the visit there was a call.  Betty thought that she had forgotten Her Dish.  White Corningware with Cornflower on the side.  You know the one, blue flower.  

Mom tore apart her kitchen and could not find it.  I got drafted into looking myself.

We decided to let it rest.  Betty didn't.  After all, it wouldn't be Family Lore if it didn't recur.

The next visit Betty sheepishly said she is still looking for her dish.  We let her go through all of the cabinets and she did not find it.  

The next visit and onward for years, Betty still muttered about the dish.  It confused us all because we all looked through the house and at her house and in the cars and in the various things that went bump in the night.

Mom died first, and when Betty visited to say her goodbye, we told her to look again through the house for her dish.  Take what you like.  Still no dish.  Not in any of the cabinets.

My sister and I were bemused by the entire thing.  It simply was not around at any of the houses.

Fast forward to a visit that I paid to Betty.  She had moved to a house on the spine of Long Island in the city of Lake Ronkonkoma.  Before I went I had found a similar piece at a thrift store with a lid.  Rather nice casserole that I kept for years as a key to start the engine to this story at will.  

We called it "Betty's Dish" with a smile.

I brought that dish to Betty and immediately she said "Well, that's not my dish.  I wish I had mine."  Laughing I offered it to her and she didn't want it since she was beginning to minimize her house in the aftermath of the move.  "It wouldn't match my set".

We never did find that dish until now.

I get a picture texted to me of a cabinet.  As far as I am concerned, the dish had gotten moved from New Jersey, to New York, magically broke on my floor and re-materialized and now moved to Sarasota, Florida.  A friend of mine was visiting a friend of his and said "Hey, here's Betty's Dish!".

I even suggested he bring it home since I thought from the picture that it was in a thrift but no, it was in someone's house and they would miss it since it completed a set.

That would be a little too close to home, as now Betty's Dish would be missing in two places.

So we do know that Betty's Dish is not in my house since my dish expired due to "Deceleration Trauma" on a rather solid floor in my farm house in Philadelphia.  It is not in Sarasota because that was not Betty's Dish".

Hey!  But it could be!

Now you know the tale.  Every time I see a Cornflower Corning Baking Dish, I get a wry smile and point it out to people and say "There's Betty's Dish!".

It is a shame because it's a great size for making casseroles and breads.  But there's always a chance I'll stumble across another one of Betty's Dish.