By the time you read this, Jim Santangelo and his crew will have cranked out hundreds, probably thousands, of plump ravioli in the basement of Sacred Heart Church. If you're a late riser or reader, they may have stuffed all 100,000 pale yellow dumplings with ground pork, veal and spinach - and are sitting down to lunch.

For the 93rd year, the little church in Camp Washington is hosting its Palm Sunday Ravioli Dinner - the original church ravioli fund-raiser. (Sacred Heart also hosts a ravioli dinner every October.)

Jim Santangelo (left) and Bernie Roma work the ravioli machine at Sacred Heart Church for its 2000 Palm Sunday meal. Enquirer file

While Santangelo's seven or eight ravioli makers, who began working at 6:30 a.m. today, are critical to the meal, there are many more who donate time and effort. On Saturday, a group of parishioners hand-shaped 25,000 meatballs, and then another shift came in over night to brown them for spaghetti. As many as 60 others will come in today to serve and clear tables.

Family tradition

Like most Sacred Heart parishioners, Santangelo grew up eating the Palm Sunday ravioli. Before the church moved from its downtown location in 1970, his mother volunteered for the fund-raiser. By the time he was in high school, he was busing tables. The tradition is indelibly set in his and others' body clocks.

"Everyone knows when the dinners are, and they just show up," says Santangelo, a 69-year-old semi-retired aeronautical engineer. "And everyone knows their job."

IF YOU GO

What: Sacred Heart Church Ravioli Dinner, with ravioli, spaghetti and meatballs, bread, salad and dessert. When: Noon today until food runs out (takeout meals offered beginning at 10:30 a.m.). Where: 1050 Heywood St., Camp Washington Cost: $8 adults; $3 children Information: 541-4654

And it's not just a one- or two-day job. Two weeks ago, volunteers stuffed 100,000 ravioli to be frozen and sold for takeout today - that's another Sacred Heart tradition. People will begin lining up to buy ravioli by 10 a.m. - two hours before the dining room opens to serve 3,000 or more. Late this afternoon, when the last morsel is eaten, volunteers will go home weary, food stained, smelling of tomato sauce and oregano.

'Thing of love'

"This has to be a thing of love, I guess," says Ron Panioto, ravioli dinner chairman, who has been organizing the event for 35 years. "Doing this is like a month out of my life."

But the church will never let him quit as chairman, he says. Of course, he'll never want to.

Little has changed since Sacred Heart began hosting the dinners in 1911. They've tweaked the ravioli recipe, but not much. Last year, they retired the rumbling, gear-grinding pasta machine, which they'd used since 1946. The new machine doesn't make pasta faster, but at least it doesn't break down as often.

Like many churches and organizations, Sacred Heart worries that not enough young people are involved.

"I looked around one day while they were working and the average age must have been 75," says Panioto.

Despite their arthritic hands and fingers, women in their 80s and 90s come in to make meatballs and fold boxes to hold the frozen ravioli.

"It brings back some of the enthusiasm," says the Rev. Mario Rauzi, Sacred Heart's pastor. "People who live in different parts of the city will see each other again."

Like a homecoming

This massive, but simple meal is a homecoming for the church and the community. All of us who appreciate good food and fellowship hope this grand tradition doesn't die with the faithful toiling in the basement of Sacred Heart.

That said, if you hurry, there might be a plate or two of ravioli left on the buffet line. But that depends on how much hungry Santangelo & Co. eat at lunch.

E-mail cmartin@enquirer.com