We don’t eat meat during holy week in our house (or at least if we do, we do it in secret where mamma can’t see us). Yesterday, Giuseppe made the mistake of scarfing down a piece of salami and we are all paying the piper now. We are also technically not supposed to work during holy week, but with a house under construction, we have no choice but to bend the rules a little bit. It is entirely possible our names are written on naughty list somewhere.
So with hungry mouths to feed and penance to pay, we eat the classic spaghetti aglio e olio (garlic and olive oil) every afternoon the week before Easter.