The altar my grandma arranges sits under one of our kitchen cabinets. The rosary hangs from St. Joseph’s neck. It’s deep purple with silver pieces between each bead. The statue is about a foot tall and hand painted. He has gray, purple, and brown cloth draped from his body. He’s typically depicted holding Baby Jesus, but in ours he stands alone surrounded by small votive candles. The tomatoes start to simmer right before guests arrive. Both of my uncles are in the kitchen. Steel pots sit on the stove and emit clouds of steam each time the lids are lifted …