Who doesn’t love a good grandma sauce? All around the world, cuisine reserves a refreshing respect for the crone we don’t see in many other domains: the maternal figure who’s seen it all, who’s kept the old traditions alive with her sage wisdom. And, of course, they stay alive because she passes them down to the next generation, with a heavily implied subtext that you don’t mess with what works.

Tradition exists for a reason, but weren’t rules meant to be broken?