I keep a sesame biscotto in my freezer that is now going on 14 years old. It was from the last batch made by my Nonna, and somewhere in my mind if that petrified rock of lemon-scented flour, oil, sugar and eggs still exists, so does she.  

On my mother’s side of the family, we are Sephardic Jews from Sicily. We were there 2,000 years ago when Greeks brought honey and almonds to the island. We were there during the Golden Age of Islam when the Arabs brought over sugar, flower essences and the tradition of ices and ice creams; we were there when a brief French occupation brought with it bigné and lulú, and when Sicily became part of the Spanish Empire, chocolate made its way back from Mexico with the conquistadors and into Sicilian sweets.