Once a year, my father and I would visit my grandmother in Miami. My cousins from Italy would meet us there. It was a ritual to go to Joe’s. Back then it was very formal–no shorts, no sandals. My cousin showed up wearing flip flops. The host wasn’t having it. Eventually a bus boy had to sneak him through the back door for us to sit at a back table. We always loved the lemon soup! 😉
