Growing up with a mother of Italian descent, I can't recall ever seeing a measuring cup in our kitchen. There were cookbooks, but the rare times they were opened, recipes were treated more like suggestions.
Substitutions were frequent, measurements were eyeballed and, after years spent watching her cook with my knees on a stool and elbows on the counter, I ended up cooking the same way.
Source: http://www.pressherald.com
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