Don’t ever run out of onions

I forgot to buy the onions. Can you believe it? And do you think there is a chance of getting an onion around here on a Sunday? No way. I had one onion last night, and in a mind numbing panic, I decided to use it for the beans, and sacrifice the meat sauce that I have to make today. Of course this morning I woke up thinking, what am I crazy? I can’t make a sauce without an onion. That’s like telling somebody you can give them a ride to the airport, but you have no car.
I know there is a garden somewhere near the house, and I’m just going to have to pray that no one is guarding it with life threatening weapons, and go digging.
This morning (before I dig) I am going to make French toast with caramelized apples and coffee in four little moka pots and hot milk in a massive heavy pan that I can barely lift, but it keeps the milk warm for ages, even after I have to steal the warming burner.
While I’m theiving, the ladies are off to Cortona today for cream filled meringues that the bakery on Via Nazionale makes only on a Sunday morning.

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