Growing up in an Italian-American family, Italian bread was a staple for most meals. If there was pasta, there was Italian bread. That’s just how it went.
Many Sundays were spent at my grandmother’s house. We would gather around her long dining room table, a huge pasta bowl right in the middle, surrounded by other bowls filled with meatballs, sausages, a crisp salad, a huge jar of freshly grated Pecorino Romano, and of course, Italian bread.
But the bread wasn’t there to fill up on before dinner.
The bread has a purpose. It’s a vessel — a tool — for making sure not a drop of homemade sauce goes to waste. At my grandmother’s house, my plate would be so spotless after my final swipe of bread that it looked ready to go straight back into the cabinet.
This, is what the Italians refer to as La Scarpetta, which literally means, “Little Shoe”. It’s the act of using bread to wipe every last bit of sauce from your plate. And in our house, it was sacred.
During the time I’ve spent in Italy, I’ve loved seeing how this tradition is respected. Bread often arrives with the meal, not before. It’s there for the sauce, just as it should be.
My husband and I still save our bread for the end. It’s our small way of honoring tradition — savoring every last bite, and making sure nothing goes to waste.