We always called it gravy. To differentiate it from what you might put on roast beef, that was called "brown gravy".

On Sundays we always went to early mass, since you couldn't receive Communion if you ate after midnight. We'd be starving by the time Mass was over. Walking home from church, we would stop at the local bakery to buy danishes and pastries for breakfast, as well as fresh bread for the afternoon dinner of macaroni (and when did we start calling it pasta?).

Sometimes, I would sleep at my grandmother's on Saturday night and on Sunday morning I would help her make homemade ravioli. My job would be to pinch the edges together with a fork and then poke holes in the middle.