Thanks, eatchicago, for posting. I am truly saddened to learn of Vincent Schiavelli's death, as he ranks second only to Julia Child as my most beloved food writer. His book, "Bruculinu, America," represents the best of my favorite genre: the sentimental food biography. His memories of important people in his life through the dishes they shared made me weep, and laugh. Saveur fans may remember an article (April 1997) entitled "A Sicilian Grandson Cooks," in which Schiavelli takes his son back to Sicily, to his grandfather's hometown, and cooks his grandfather's specialties for his new friends there. Sometime after that article appeared, Schiavelli showed up in a dream I had to laugh and talk about food. Strange, but true.
Man : I can't understand how a poet like you can eat that stuff.
T. S. Eliot: Ah, but you're not a poet.