We all need a bowl that tastes like cashmere feels. My Nonna simmered her minestrone all day while the scent of garlic and parmesan rinds drifted through her kitchen. On the first of the year, when the sky hung low and cupboards were lean, she'd ladle thick scarlet broth over tiny pasta, shower it with Parmigiano shavings that melted into silken threads. I've