

Mayo, Violets & Flamingos: A Tribute to Nanny
I watched in horror as Nanny poured Crisco oil into the ground beef and Ragu red sauce in the large black iron skillet owned by all card-carrying grandmothers. She looped the bottle above the pan a few times, covering the simmering meat and cheap soupy sauce. She was not known for fine cuisine, but excelled in comfort food. “Wow, Nanny, that‘s a lot of oil,” I commented. In my head I was thinking, Holy crap, that’s a lot of fat right there. I had succeeded in losing all of my