Granny Godfroy Makes Spaghetti

Francine and Freddy sat at Granny Godfroy’s round splintery wooden table. They weren’t sure that they were going to like living with Granny in her small cottage by the Detroit River in Ecorse, Michigan. The Depression had made people poor and Mama went to work for a rich family in Grosse Pointe. She could only come to visit them on weekends. Papa had hopped a freight train to find work in the west.

“What would you like for supper?” Granny asked them. Freddy looked at his shoes. “Pancakes,” he said. Francine looked at Granny’s spiky gray hair and overalls and plaid shirt. “Spaghetti,” Francine said. Granny smiled. “Spaghetti it is,” she said. “Come on, you can help me.” Granny filled a large kettle with water and put it on the wood burning stove. Granny stood still for a minute and scratched her chin. “What’s spaghetti and how do you make it?” “Mama boils water for spaghetti in one pan and then she makes sauce in another,” Francine said. She pointed to some tomatoes in a basket by the sink. “You make sauce out of tomatoes and spices and sugar and vinegar.” “I see,” Granny said. “She threw three tomatoes into the pot of water on the stove. Granny rummaged in the cupboard and took out a cup of sugar and a glass of vinegar. She threw them into the pot.

“Granny you have to peel the tomatoes and measure out the sugar and vinegar,” Francine said. “You aren’t supposed to put the cup and glass in the pot. You have to cook the sauce and spaghetti in separate pans.” “Too much bother,” Granny said, fishing out the cup and glass. “Cooking them all together saves time.” Granny Godfroy handed Francine three platters. “Here are the plates.” She handed Freddy three soup ladles. “Here are the knives and forks. Now set the table children, while I finish the spaghetti.”

Freddy and Francine looked at each other. Granny stirred and stirred. A tomato-sugar-vinegar smell floated around the room. The spaghetti and sauce cooked inside the pot so energetically that the pot danced back and forth on the stove. Granny danced around stirring it. “Alouteet, gentile Alouette,” she sang in time to the pot dancing. Freddy danced with Granny Godfroy. Francine sat at the table, sniffing the air suspiciously. The pot finally stopped dancing and Granny ladled spaghetti onto the platters. They sat down at the table. Freddy took a ladle bite of his spaghetti. Most of it dribbled down his chin. “Francine, it’s good, try it!” he shouted.

Francine stared at Granny. “Freddy, look!” Granny had a clump of spaghetti in her ladle spoon and was slurping it into her mouth noodle by noodle. “Wow! How do you do that?” Freddy asked. “Practice,” Granny Godfroy said. “Practice makes slurpic!” Francine slurped a piece of spaghetti. “Let’s practice Granny,” she said. They slurped spaghetti together.