One day my friend Maria, who is from Calabria, brought me a jar of pureed bell peppers and hot peppers from her sister in Italy. It had been preserved for the winter months and was meant for making Calabrian sausage. And so, we stood there on a Friday afternoon, grinding sausage meat, mixing it and casing it. Maria told me how the process went at home: The butcher came to slaughter the pig on their farm, the men chopped up the meat. With two large knives, mind you, not with
