The smell shouldn’t work but it totally does. The hodgepodge mix of luncheon meats, hard and soft cheeses, and freshly baked Italian bread and cookies only means two things to me: Cortina’s, and I’m home. It’s our family’s version of soul food and I make at least one trip every time I’m back. My face is fixed in a wide grin as I stroll through the aisles, and I probably look like a lunatic to be so ecstatic about Italianate packaged goods, imported though they may be, but I am unashamed. I love this place, and I’ll probably take back at least a pound each of Jordan almonds and imported Parmesan when I leave.