I’ve mentioned previously that when I was growing up, our family often went out for dinner on Saturday evenings.

There were a few places that we went frequently, but occasionally we’d try a new place.

I don’t know where the suggestion came from, perhaps it was from one of my mother’s customers at her beauty shop, but one time we found ourselves at Cocco’s Spaghetti House on N. 10th Street in Lebanon, PA.

We had been told that this was real authentic Italian spaghetti, that they made the pasta and everything else from scratch right there on the premises.

When we were seated, we were given menus and bibs. I mean real oversized bibs. It was strongly suggested that we put them on, which we did.

And the spaghetti was out of this world delicious. We had never tasted anything quite like it before.

The next time we went we took my aunt and uncle Joan and Mark along, and they loved it as well. (It’s possible I have this mixed up and it was Joan and Mark who took us to Cocco’s the first time; it has been 60 years after all.)

And that was it.

As much as we enjoyed it, I think we only ever went there a total of two or possibly three times. I don’t know why. Perhaps it just slipped off our radar.