Chicken Soup for the Skittish

We're just back from five sunny days in San Pedro, CA, where we celebrated Anthony's Grandma Jean and Grandpa Phil's birthdays - they turned 90 and 85, respectively.

And what a party...er, make that party, after party, after party. No complaints from me, though - the town seems to be 90 percent Scognamillos and/or Mazzellas, so we never had to go far for food or family. And even when you can't see them, they're always in earshot, since they speak exclusively in outside voices.

See? I fit right in.

A few memorable moments:
Ben and Roman explore the cockpit in DEN:

Ben and Roman's little feet in the ocean:

Scognamillo family picture at the b'day celebration:

Yucking it up with Grandpa Phil on the patio:

"Appetizers" that brought me to my food-loving knees:

Roman the pirate (see a friendly parrot on his shoulder):

Grandma Jean whacks a live chicken:
(Photo unavailable.)

True story, though: there I was, chatting with the petite, gentle Grandma Jean when she excused herself to go outside because her cousin had dropped off a chicken for chicken soup. Not "dropped off chicken" but "dropped off a chicken." I opted to stay inside (and the boys were safely sleeping downstairs, of course), but she was plucking and gutting that thing 10 seconds after I heard its final cluck.

AUGH! Equal parts horrifying and admirable...these are wonderfully Old Country people, who unknowingly slap me in the face with my own wimpiness. I am, afterall, the girl who was literally brought to tears in the Trader Joe's cheese section. Then at In-N-Out Burger. What can I say?! I miss California. And I'm a sucker for inexpensive, organic treats.

Anyway, I'll wrap it up on the organic theme: I now know that the best meals come from a garden in L.A., grown, picked and prepared by Jean and Phil, this world's two most organic Italians-turned-Californians.

I can't wait to go back. I just might politely decline the chicken soup.