Lunchtime in Rome

They sat down at Wexford Public and the booth was a single on both sides. Just one person per side. Nobody had seen one of those before. Booths are usually for groups, or at least for people who might want to lean back after the pork chop. This one kept everybody upright the whole time. It was fine. It just hadn’t come up before.

The table next to them was close enough that they were basically having dinner with the people sitting there. Kids, parents, the whole thing. At one point a kid came back from outside with a stick. There was no clear plan for the stick. The parents were talking the way people talk when they forget other people can hear them. A guy from the restaurant came over twice to check if everything was okay. Everything was okay. They have a little one at home. They’re used to most of it. Still, it was nice that someone noticed.

They split the lobster mac. It was good. Amy had to return something at American Eagle first, which is how they ended up in that part of town. Date night, but still. They also went to Freedom Farms over the weekend. One of them had never been. The farm had the whole fall thing going—pumpkins, the maze. Corn mazes aren’t a favorite. If Maggie wants to do it, they’ll do it. Otherwise there are other things to do. The farm was nice. They had a good day.

Work has been a lot. A big project got out the door before the holiday code freeze. That’s when the website stops changing so nothing breaks right when people are actually buying things. It took a while to get there. A lot of meetings. A lot of making sure other people were doing their parts. At one point the question came up whether anyone else was going to reach out, and then five more people did. So that answered that. It’s been good to see it land. Nine years at American Eagle now. Longest job so far. The work is different than it used to be. Bigger. The small stuff doesn’t move the ship anymore.

Jay cut his thumb on a sweet potato. He was trying to get a knife out of it instead of using a skewer. Four stitches. Rachel told him he had to stop getting blood on the ceiling. He said he could reach it. They went to the hospital. The numbing shot didn’t really take, but he got through it. He’s got a high pain tolerance, or at least he tolerated that pain. Same thumb he’s cut before. It’s been through some things.

Jay officiated Mia and Haddon’s wedding. They played “How Great Thou Art” and the whole room kind of settled into it. Jay was the only one facing everybody, so he saw Mia put her hand up. He started moving around to get out of the pictures. The best man was in the way, so he had to nudge him over while mouthing the words because he was mic’d. A lot going on at once. Later, when the bridal party was lined up, he asked if anybody had seen Mrs. Smith. Everybody pointed at Haddon’s mom. He pointed at Mia and said, “No, she’s right there.” That got a reaction.

At the rehearsal the coordinator forgot the middle part—the actual wedding. Jay had to step in. Rich tried to correct him on who walks who down the aisle, then remembered Jay’s done a few of these. There was also some confusion about the second row of seats. The coordinator said it was for family. Jay asked which family. She didn’t know. He just walked away from it.

People are in the middle of things. Lindsay is getting ready to move forward with Young Life Capernaum, the ministry for kids with special needs. It’s been a minute since that one got off the ground. Kelly is building herself up for a mission trip. She’s nervous. Jay has been texting people on their birthdays, telling them he hopes they see themselves the way God does. He wishes Kelly could see herself the way he sees her.

Tim Toy is planning an all-star volleyball event. His wife, Ellen, coached at Kiski Area and passed from breast cancer. He and Jay are in that club nobody wants to be in. Tim is more outspoken about politics than Jay is. They still get along. Tim’s foundation helped one of the Penn Hills girls play club volleyball last year. Rounding up high school players and coaches is like herding cats, he said, but it always works out.

Dan Leppold is publishing the second Ray the Kitten book. Ray and her brother Ollie go to Cape May and deal with ocean pollution. Ollie’s missing a leg. Dan is also building a to-scale Cape May lifeguard stand. Most people ask why. He says they should be asking themselves why they haven’t built one already. He’s working on the tummy fat too. Suggested bigger shirts, like Peyton Manning. Every day he’s trying to be a better version of himself—for his kids, the animals on the farm, former students.

Somebody asked what home-cooked dinner from childhood never shows up anymore. The answers came in fast. Tuna noodle casserole. Hamloaf. Hamburger Helper. City chicken—pork shoulder on a stick, breaded and baked. Shake and Bake. Chicken à la king. Liver and onions. One guy said veal balls with cream sauce over egg noodles. That’s the one that stuck. Another said slumgullion: ground beef, mashed potatoes, and baked beans. You could mix it or eat it separate. Both ways worked.

Aunt Shirley still has chicken livers in the freezer. She used to fry them for breakfast. Jay’s dad would wrap them in bacon. Jay tried one once when he was twelve. The middle just kind of disappeared. He said he’d try it again. He’s that way.

People still make a lot of these things. Just not as often. Or they make the updated version. A bougie Hamburger Helper went to the parents the other night. Mom used to call the plain version glop—shells, tomatoes, ground beef. She still makes hamloaf. The brother likes it. It wasn’t a favorite as a kid. It’s fine now.

The comments kept coming. City chicken from a couple people. Chop suey. Chipped ham barbecue. Somebody in New Jersey still does the chipped ham with Isaly’s sauce. That one showed up at every church event growing up. Dad used to charcoal it. It got a little bitter.

They made it through another week. Everybody’s got something. The code freeze is coming. The lifeguard stand is getting built. The veal balls are still out there if anyone wants them.

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Welcome back to the table. Episode 337 of Lunchtime in Rome arrived after another round of illness, a house that still hasn’t sold, a totaled car, a new Kia, a rapidly growing puppy, and a wedding weekend that managed to be both spiritual and chaotic. The hosts spent the early part of the show catching up on life—Chris’s lingering cough and open house plans, Jay’s reflections on Mia and Haddon’s wedding in Lynchburg, Joe’s deer-versus-car encounter (dashcam highly recommended), the black-on-black Sorento, and Toby the yellow Lab mix who is already testing the limits of “medium-sized dog.”

Then they got to the point.

Romans 12:15 at the Table

The night’s question was simple and hard at the same time: rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn. Listeners responded in force, and the hosts treated those responses the way the podcast usually does—by refusing to fix, minimize, or turn them into a lesson. They sat with the stories.

Jess Berkovich described a stretch of bad health and difficult relationships while still naming her family as the good that keeps her grounded. The hosts appreciated the grit without asking her to perform gratitude. Faith Malazzo wrote that all three of her (and her partner’s) parents are currently in the hospital in three different states none of them live in. The table noted how quickly “three parents” multiplies the logistical and emotional load; there is no clean reserve when the people who usually show up for you are the ones who need showing up for.

Heather (affectionately called Trixie in the episode) spoke about addiction’s effect on a whole family and the ache of wanting to be a good mom when the role refuses to stay simple. Jay shared something he had said to her privately: guilt tends to turn the spotlight back on yourself (“I’m a bad mom”), while conviction points outward toward what is right and what God is asking. The distinction mattered to the conversation. Diane described watching her daughter navigate a serious health crisis with her husband and child while trying to keep life as normal as possible for her own daughter. The hosts gently pushed back on the idea that presence doesn’t count if you can’t fix the thing—sometimes the best you can do is keep it from getting worse.

Kelly Anker admitted to loneliness even while being around people most days and talked about selling a building she still loves. Don Penner mentioned a season of regrouping and the weight of watching people close to him carry recent losses. Jeff Kearney is days away from retiring after twenty years in the military; the mountaintop of that milestone sits next to anxiety about the future, a broken foot, and a missing voice. Bethany’s update was the clearest example of a mountaintop inside a valley: the boys are doing better, she closed on a house, Joey is getting a Make-A-Wish adaptive playground at home, and they’re still waiting on enough nursing care so both boys can be under one roof. Kathleen Whelan wrote that she feels like she’s fighting a battle alone after an amputation. Beverly Sheasley is caring for her mother-in-law through dementia and named both the hard days and the practical mercies (a one-floor house, a nursing background). Nita Choma’s family is facing the death of a teenager. Corey Lima is climbing back after a fall. Tom Doyle thanked the community for naming the burdens most people never see. And Corey (Trey’s daughter) wrote the blunt line that grief does not politely end when other people are ready for it to end: “My dad’s dead… still dead… people don’t want to hear about my dead dad.”

The hosts kept returning to the same posture. You don’t have to have the right words. You don’t have to take the other person’s emotion as your own identity. You also don’t get to stand outside it. Presence is the assignment. Dan Leopold’s story closed the segment the way his stories often do: he caught a fainting man at Walmart with “perfect volleyball form,” then wrote that a life spent making other people’s valleys a little less deep is a good life. The table liked that framing.

And Then Potatoes

Because this is Lunchtime in Rome, they eventually had to talk about food. The question was top two potato forms. Hash browns (especially McDonald’s or a properly seared diner version) made multiple lists. Baked russet potatoes with butter, salt, and sour cream (or not—Rachel has opinions) ranked high. Tater tots, waffle fries, and the idea of a tater-tot-crust breakfast casserole all received votes. Bethany introduced potato candy, a Hoosier staple that starts with mashed potato, powdered sugar, and peanut butter and is rolled like a jelly roll. Several people at the table had never heard of it and immediately wanted to try it. The conversation wandered through home fries, pierogi, gnocchi, and whether potato skins count. Everyone eventually admitted they just like potatoes.

Listen In

The full episode is available wherever you get the show. If one of the stories landed on you, the hosts mean what they said on the air: they are joining you. You can also reply to the original Facebook post or message Jay directly. Next week is episode 338, same time, same table.

Thanks for sitting with us.

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The vinyl wall behind Jay has officially surrendered to Pittsburgh humidity. The tacky things failed. A mural was proposed. It was not received well.

From there, episode 336 does what this table does best: start somewhere normal and end up somewhere you did not order. Amy’s girls’ weekend is already three days in the rearview, which feels like a different season. Saturday night at Mohan’s produced the photo that explains an entire friendship, plus the most refreshing sentence anyone has said on the way to ice cream. Sunday was The Lion King at full Broadway volume. Eric is not a musical person. He watched the drummers. He was still impressed. There may have been an elephant in the aisle. It was not a real elephant. Do not start.

Also on the docket: a wedding in Lynchburg that required a new sermon after 50-plus weddings of the usual material, a hymn with at least one verse cut, and a cookie table the rest of the country does not understand. Volleyball is almost done for ninth grade and not almost done for varsity. A principal lit up in the entryway, which is the review we will take. Two daddy-daughter basement sleepovers happened, complete with a Fortnite LAN party and a pullout-couch hack that may finally retire the bar Elaine complained about at Del Boca Vista. Technology has not improved. The cushions have.

Jay is missing the Penn Hills Sports Hall of Fame banquet for the wedding, which is rude of the calendar. Marilyn’s summer-theater crowd hit 50 years and a very specific dollar amount for the rights to Once Upon a Mattress. The stream died for a bit. Everyone vamped. Big Guy was trying to watch. Kill the app.

Then the mailbag, because last week was grim on purpose. This week’s assignment: who always makes you laugh, and what makes you laugh when it absolutely should not. Answers included daughters, funeral jokes, church giggles, a three-legged cat named Oliver, and at least one bodily function that will be edited for the website and not for your ears. A bonus round asked for one specific food that brings joy, not comfort. We will not spoil the board. Know that it runs from a Crunchwrap Supreme to a steak that had to live up to 30 years of memory, to something now known as death treats.

Garlic chives were mentioned. They insist upon themselves. Send ideas.

Pull up a seat. Episode 336 is live, the picture is on the site, and the guest room remains unavailable.

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Eric is back after a sick week that also featured a sick kid, a puppy with opinions, and zero transition time. There is a PSA about elderly parents and Social Security numbers. There is a supplement whose main miracle is fingernails growing at Teen Wolf speed. There is a farmer’s-market cauliflower the size of a basketball that becomes a ranch pizza. It holds together. Barely. Like a lot of things.

Then the table asks the two questions that did all the work:

* What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever gone through — and what got you through it?

* What’s something you do all the time that other people treat like a superpower — and you treat like Tuesday?

The community did not send polite one-liners. They sent whole lives. Hospital rooms. Aging parents. Seasons that last years. Friendships that will either pick you up off the floor or sit down there with you. We are not ranking those stories here. Nobody wins Hardship Olympics, and the thing you are in right now is still the thing hitting you the hardest.

What almost every reply had in common: somebody showed up. A text. A meal. A spare bedroom. Time, when that luxury existed. The guys land on two assignments, and neither one is “be inspiring.” Come alongside people well. Do not be the grief hawk. And remember the people who do not have a wagon to circle.

They would also like next week to be slightly less emotionally nuclear. “What made you cry the most” was floated as a palate cleanser. It was not.

A recap can point at the door. It cannot sit in the room while strangers get a little less strange in the comments. Press play for that.

Listen: lunchtimeinrome.com · live Wednesdays around 8:30. Bring a seat. Leave the ranking system at the door.

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Welcome back to the table. The clock in Rome is whoever’s guess. The salad opinions are unsolicited. The puppy has opinions about feet. Episode 334 of Lunchtime In Rome is the one where a marathon Tuesday, a county fair, a dumped-in coaching gig, a fantasy draft, and a very American condiment all wander into the same conversation and refuse to leave.

The puppy industrial complex

Toby is very cute and, at present, a part-time jerk. That is not slander. That is the official diagnosis of a house that has discovered crate time is not optional. Neighbors, bagel people, and a mysterious school of thought involving always hold the dog on your right side have filed their training briefs. The family hired an actual trainer anyway, which is how you know they are serious and also tired.

Also filed this week: school drop-off, orthodontist, a birthday dinner, tying a nippy dog in the back of the car, and the sacred ritual known as Toby Time. If you have ever come home at 9 p.m. to a creature that wants to play Zoom Zoom Zoom, you already understand the plot.

Busy people, competing podcasts, and a dressing with a backstory

One host is stacking two full-time jobs plus emergency high school coaching because certifications did not, as they say, get certified. Another hit the first speed bump of the school year and still showed up to talk about it. Somebody went to the Westmoreland County Fair and would like it on the record that the people-watching is elite.

Then the table veers, as this table does, into The Consumers — the other podcast where comedians autopsy a product. This week’s item: Hidden Valley Ranch. Europe, we learn, does not have ranches in the American sense, which leads to some very confident guesses about what they call the white stuff. One of those guesses is “Alpine Snow Dressing.” We are not going to tell you the real origin story here. That would ruin the bit. Hit play.

What are you actually good at?

This is the heart of the episode, and it sneaks up on you. One of the guys is 55, can preach, lead, study, and spin ten plates at once, and is still asking the question out loud. Another is a jack of all trades who will not claim a specialty. Eric will admit to drums, reliability, and making machines behave. Nobody in the room is doing a TED Talk. They are doing the thing friends do when the week has been long: inventory their actual gifts without the LinkedIn polish.

Then the comments roll in, and the table gets generous. Work ethic forged the hard way. Autism advocacy as a lane, not a slogan. Connecting people. Recycling like it’s a spiritual gift. Being a kid on purpose. Mothering through a dark season. Generating terrific ideas and then watching them die a lonely death inside one’s own head. (There is a volleyball net, a bathtub foot scrubber, and a concert blanket with nubbins. Patents were not filed. CVS, somehow, was involved.)

The assignment, if you want one: tell somebody what they’re good at. The guys wish they did it more. After this episode, so will you.

And then, because it is lunchtime, food

Sliders. Scotch eggs. Sous-vide steak that has ruined restaurants. Chicken that stays at 145 like it signed a contract. Holiday Mexican corn that even the cook is afraid to attempt twice. A house ranch so beloved it has its own nickname. Also: a cucumber incident that opens the show and should probably close it. “It’s all seed” is not a salad review. It is a lifestyle.

Listen if you’ve ever smiled and nodded at bad dog advice. Stay if you’ve ever wondered whether being decent at twelve things counts as a talent. Leave with a better ranch question than you arrived with.

On the table this week

* Unsolicited puppy curriculum vs. an actual trainer

* Penn Hills coaching, two jobs, and zero transition time

* Why ranch is called ranch (we are not spoiling it)

* Fantasy draft lore, Brisk iced tea, and a very nice mustache

* Listener answers that range from holy to hilarious

* The dish each guy will defend in court

Episode 334 of Lunchtime In Rome. Title pending. Cucumber forever in the credits.

Join them next week for 335. Same table. Same chaos. Slightly fewer seeds, one hopes.

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This one is less “big life lesson” and more “three grown humans at a table, slightly tired, extremely opinionated.” Which, if we’re honest, is the show’s finest form.

A new puppy named Toby is running the household like a tiny, furry HOA. Rain walks that go nowhere. Pee-pad diplomacy. A Home Depot trip that takes twice as long because every aisle becomes a meet-and-greet. Also: a new hobby involving other dogs’… leftovers. You will hear it. You will wish you hadn’t. You will keep listening anyway.

Then someone makes the mistake of asking what 21-year-olds know about famous people. The answers are not comforting. Billy Graham gets recast as a singer. Dolly Parton gets a modern substitute you will either accept or fight about in the comments. An unofficial game of “Alive or Dead” breaks out, which is either wholesome or a cry for help.

Seasonally, the crew tries to decide if fall is a gift or a scam. Pumpkin gets a mixed review. Creamer is approved in small, tightly rationed doses. Homegrown peppers, basil gone feral, and a sauce Bella just calls “the green” make a late appearance. If you came for policy, stay for the dressing.

They close with a plug for a Young Life fundraiser and a warning that next week may involve drafting “real live fake fantasy football players.” That’s not a typo. That’s the show.

Come for the puppy. Stay for the cultural panic. Leave with a sudden urge to buy a small bottle of pumpkin creamer and then hide it until October.

Pull up a seat. It’s Lunchtime In Rome.

Get full access to Lunchtime In Rome Podcast at www.lunchtimeinrome.com/subscribe

Pull up a seat. Episode 332 is live and, as usual, the table talk refuses to stay in one lane.

The conversation winds through progressive lenses, monovision driving quirks, hallway contracts, and one unforgettable Pez-dispenser chemistry teacher. Then the table turns to gratitude.

The people sitting there share what’s actually stuck with them this week. The answer that lands hardest is simple and shared: Toby.

That soft, good-looking yellow Lab currently chewing his way through the puppy-teeth phase. The one who’s somehow both the best and most dangerous thing in the house right now.

That’s the heart of Episode 332. Everything else is just the long way around to saying thanks out loud.

Pull up a seat.

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Chris finally returns after a stretch that felt like two months and somehow only two weeks. He shows up with a mental list so stacked it could qualify as a short documentary: the move, the old house hitting the market that very day, Amy’s surgery that turned out more major than advertised, and both living parents deciding the hospital was the place to be at the exact same time. Meadville road trips included.

Naturally the conversation pivots to lawn care theology. Trim first or mow first? Edge after? Is “weed whacker” a Pittsburgh thing or a crime against language? Someone’s kid is doing most of the mowing. Someone else once quit after six feet because shoes were required. The discourse is serious.

Mid-episode the group digs into the dual prompts of the night: what they’re grateful for right now, and what they could cheerfully do without. Dishes, ladders, and certain point-of-sale systems all make appearances. Then the real heavyweight question lands: what ordinary food is just better when somebody else makes it?

By the end you’ll hear passionate testimony about a perfect plain baked potato, French-toast trauma, and a full constitutional convention over the one correct grilled cheese. (White bread. American cheese. Campbell’s with milk. Do not @ them.)

Also featuring: Canva threats, a possibly dancing hamster, Kate Hudson spam, and the usual amount of beep-boop.

It’s 65 minutes of pure Lunchtime chaos. You’ll laugh, you’ll side-eye your own lawn, and you’ll probably text your mom about potatoes.

Pull up a seat. Episode 332 in two weeks.

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Some episodes of Lunchtime in Rome hit especially close to home.

In Episode 330, the conversation opens with a quiet window into real marriage and family life. One host shares how he and his wife Amy navigated a difficult day—her attending a viewing for a beloved aunt while he stayed back to care for their daughter Maggie. What follows is a tender daddy-daughter evening: ice cream, laughs, and an unexpected Fortnite session that tests patience in the best (and funniest) ways.

It’s a beautiful reminder of how marriage looks in the everyday—supporting one another through grief, stepping up as a team, and carving out sweet moments amid the hard ones. You’ll hear the warmth in his voice as he talks about being there for Maggie, the little joys they shared, and the way life keeps moving even on heavy days.

From there, the table talk flows naturally into comfort food cravings (yes, the now-infamous “Tuna Nooder Casserole” makes an appearance), nostalgic desserts, family recipes, and plenty of laughs about everything from video games with kids to old Pittsburgh favorites.

But at its heart, this episode is about partnership: showing up for your spouse, being present for your children, and finding lightness together even when life feels heavy.

Will the Fortnite adventure end in triumph or total chaos? Which comfort food won the ultimate debate? And what surprising dessert confession emerges?

You’ll have to listen to discover the rest.

If you’re married, raising kids, or simply appreciate honest conversations about love, loss, and the little things that hold families together, Episode 330 is one you don’t want to miss. It’s funny, heartfelt, and deeply relatable.

Pull up a seat and press play now.

What’s one way you and your spouse have supported each other through a tough season? Share in the comments—we love hearing your stories.

See you at the table for Episode 331.

Get full access to Lunchtime In Rome Podcast at www.lunchtimeinrome.com/subscribe

Welcome back to the table! In this week’s episode of Lunchtime In Rome, the crew catches up on real-life grown-up adventures, family moments, food opinions, and a few nostalgic detours.

Tackling the Driveway Like True Homeowners

The conversation kicks off with a major household win: replacing decades-old railroad ties around the driveway. Expect plenty of laughs about Home Depot runs, the unexpected limitations of their saws, creative problem-solving with rebar and drills, and that classic “this project was supposed to be simple” energy. One host even earned a minor battle wound (back tweak included), but the end result looks great. If you’ve ever owned a home, you’ll relate to the mix of satisfaction and “what’s next on the list” dread—especially when the retaining wall conversation turns up.

Family Moments & Kid Wisdom

There are sweet (and hilarious) updates from home life, including a classic Maggie moment that had everyone cracking up. These episodes always blend the everyday chaos of family with plenty of heart.

Vacation Restaurant Throwback

They reminisce about a standout meal from their recent trip, highlighting standout appetizers like a fried green tomato Caprese salad and blackened ahi that surprised everyone in the best way. Worth celebrating.

Random Tangents & Laughs

As always, the episode wanders into movie quotes, spoiler-adjacent jokes (Sixth Sense gets a nod), and the kind of free-flowing banter that makes Lunchtime In Rome feel like sitting with friends.

This episode is packed with relatable homeownership stories, food fun, and the warmth that keeps listeners coming back. Whether you’re tackling your own projects, planning your next cookout, or just need a good laugh, there’s something here for you.

Listen to Episode 329 now wherever you get your podcasts (or head to the Lunchtime In Rome feed). Pull up a seat—what’s your must-have hot dog topping?

Stay tuned for Episode 330. Thanks for joining us at the table!

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