Warren, I'm glad you bumped the thread. I missed it somehow!
My maternal grandparents, "grandpa" and "nonni," were from Calabria, Italy. They had a huge garden, the bulk of which was tomatoes, peppers, onions, and zucchini. They had other veggies, but I distinctly remember those four.
Grandpa made the most tasty and memorable sausage; hot, mild, and liver. Grandma would cut each link into thirds, and fry them in a big, cast iron pan, building up a nice base of fat. She'd put the cooked sausages in a covered bowl, then crack eggs into the hot fat, splashing the fat onto the top of the eggs to cook them on both sides. Her homemade bread would be sliced and laid on a cookie sheet, then toasted under the broiler in the oven. The breakfast drink of choice for the men was coffee with a splash of Jim Beam bourbon.
Grandpa also made all his own wine, always red, bottled in gallon jugs. That wine was consumed over a great range of aging; from mouth puckering green, to the point it was vinegar enough for salad dressing.
Holidays at my grandparents' house were the most memorable and food centric. Christmas Eve involved a feast of the fishes, so much food it covered the table like a buffet, and people had to eat on folding TV trays. Food safety? Bah humbug! That food stayed on the table all night as a constant stream of family and friends came by to eat from dinner to after midnight mass. No one ever got sick, go figure.
Grandma never used recipes. They were all in her head. Through experience alone, she passed them on to my mom. I asked my mom to write them on the back of computer punch cards after I went to university. It was those cards that started me on my path to becoming the cook I am today.
Here's the only picture I have of my Nonni and Grandpa. She's 4'11" BTW.