At every catered event in the scope of my childhood — First Holy Communions, Confirmation parties, baby showers, bridal showers and, yes, even cocktail hours at weddings — there were trays, stacked on trays, of eggplant rollatini. Why? I don’t really know, but we’re Italian and I can only surmise that our love for cheesy dishes slathered in sauce runs deep, deep like a bottomless aluminum tray filled to the brim with hot food. I can recall my brother Louis and I having in depth conversations, as kids, about whether or not there would be eggplant rollatini at a family party or on a menu — and doing the same as adults. We don’t talk much, but we do talk about food and, I guess, that’s something.
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