The feel of flour wedged between fingers

The starchy sweet scent of potatoes wafting through the air

The heat radiating from the old hob warming the room

Turning our cheeks rosy

The tinny sound of Italian music playing through old radio speakers

The smell of garlic and fresh tomatoes wafting from the sauce pan, bubbling as the fresh pasta dough rolled between our hands

It was the perfect Sunday in nonna’s kitchen