By Virginia Gates
I rarely get a chance to watch movies.
Being in the thick of midlife with a spouse, kids, a business, social engagements, and ongoing cancer treatments, my plate is quite full. Taking a couple of hours to sit down for pure, uninterrupted entertainment is a luxury that I put at the bottom of the list of things that I would typically have time to enjoy. However, one evening at dinner, a dear friend, Rob Shirley, suggested there was one movie I needed to watch. As a fellow foodie who has worked in the restaurant industry his entire career, I took his words to heart and sat down to relax and enjoy.
The movie was Nonnas, a 2025 Netflix biographical comedy-drama that celebrates food, family, and life. Vince Vaughn portrays Joey, the main character, who, after losing his mother, decides to risk everything and honor her memory by opening an Italian restaurant. He holds onto a letter left by her, but is hesitant to open it as he knows it will be the last thing she says to him. He hires four Nonnas (Italian for grandmother), who were also his mother’s closest friends, to be the chefs who will cook their renowned recipes. He yearns to add a few of his mother’s own signature dishes to the menu, but is unsuccessful as he does not have the recipes, only the childhood memories of what he thought them to be.
After many hurdles, he opens the doors of the restaurant only to find family and friends who stop by to dine, but unfortunately, it is not enough to keep the doors open. In a final effort to keep the restaurant afloat, he reaches out to food critics and numerous culinary publications and invites them to stop by to try his unique concept for dining. He is declined by all of them… or so he thinks. He agonizes over the decision but eventually places the “For Sale” sign in the restaurant window.
After feeling defeated about his new endeavor, he decides to open the letter from his mom. It reads, “Joey, I wish I could have given you more. Love, Mom.” Tucked behind the letter was her cherished recipe that he so longingly was trying to create. With renewed hope and a true sense of purpose, he immediately goes into the kitchen to make her sauce and is transported back to his boyhood memories. Later, his friend stops by with a glowing review of the restaurant from one of the food critics. Word, of course, gets out about the restaurant, and guests start pouring in. The restaurant is a complete success and one that is still open to this day. Yes! This inspiring and heartfelt movie is based on a true story.
When Rob recommended this movie to me, what he did not know was that it was a much-needed break in a time when I was feeling rather downhearted. That week was a particularly difficult one for me. It was the anniversary of my grandmother’s death, and the same week I was diagnosed with cancer in 2020.
Currently, I am undergoing treatment again, and with the upcoming holidays, I was thinking back on this movie and the fond memories I had of my own grandmother, Virginia; especially her cooking.
From showing me how to preserve fresh fruits and vegetables during the summer to sitting on the porch with a bushel of beans and having various conversations about life (what I would consider the original Snapchat). Food was always at the heart of my time spent with her.
Our family has always had holiday drop-ins, and my grandmother would prepare the entire spread of appetizers and desserts. She would always allow my sister and me to help, and we eagerly jumped in to do her bidding. We loved putting on the final touches right before guests arrived, which included dimming the lights and lighting the candles throughout her home. I loved taking a moment, just before I heard the doorbell ring, to do one last walk through to make sure everything was perfect. I would take in the beautiful scene and marvel in the wonder of all the intricate steps it took in being the best hostess for such a cardinal evening.
Like most people, holidays with family and loved ones are extra special, and even though my grandmother is no longer with us on this earth, I still want to honor her and her memory for everything she gave to me during the time we spent together. With this in mind, I asked my aunt, who had her recipe box, if I could have a few recipes held within this box to recreate her infamous dishes for our family get-togethers. After one of my cancer treatments, my aunt brought me a bag. She mentioned there was a meal for my family in the bag, as she knows treatments zap all my energy. I was grateful. She said there were some other things I could use within the bag, but did not mention what was in the bottom.
Later that evening, I sat there in tears as I reached my hand down and felt the treasure she had left. She had given me not just a few, but the entire box of my grandmother’s recipes. I could not help but smile at the unmistakable timing of recalling this movie and knowing her memory will live on through this gift.
As we all gather this holiday season, may we remember those not with us, cherish the ones that are, and honor all the love shared between us all. After all, that’s the true recipe for life.
