Food memories are my favorite memories. As a child, our go-to family restaurant was Martucci's Italian Restaurant at 27th and Myrtle. I can still see it: the dark bar you pass through on the way to the tables, the dusty Italian reproduction art on the walls, the candle burning in the red glass jar right next to the ever-present basket of thick-sliced, simple Italian bread.
As those old school Italian restaurants slowly disappear, nothing can bring back those memories like a fresh slice of Italian bread and butter. Even if you're not aware of it, if you ever ate at one of those old places, you have likely eaten Majestic bread.
