Its 10pm (and snowing) do you know where your mutandine are?

You may be asking yourself WTF is mutandine? If you are asking this question, I am guessing you don't have a Sicilian Nonna. Mutandine or as I pronounce (moo-tun-dee-nee), is basically any undershirt and if you're from any of the outer boroughs you may refer to it as a stickball shirt or a wife beater.

As a child you did not go to Sunday dinner at Nonna's, even during a heat wave, without your mutandine. It was as if the mutandine possessed some magical powers that fought off the common cold and the evil eye.

Nonna had a keen sense about the mutandine. If I wore it, she subtly nodded in approval. But if not she gave me a horrified look then grab at my torso, rustling my clothes hysterically.

"Jane, you notta wear you mutandine? Jane, you goin' to catch cold."

Working up a sweat in the middle of the summer I would try to assure her that I would be okay.

"No! Jane you needa the mutandine."

So she would fish out one of Nonno's (that's my grandpa's) mutandine, a great big mutandine that fit me like a dress, so I looked like one of the chipmunks and I'd put my smaller outside shirt over it.

Looking like a fool, Nonna would calm down. Better to look like a fool than be struck with a fever in the middle of July. Satisfied, she would bring me to the table for a nice big bowl of my favorite pasta, which was plain with some olive oil.