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Conference turris::cooks

Title:How to Make them Goodies
Notice:Please Don't Start New Notes for Old Topics! Check 5.*
Moderator:FUTURE::DDESMAISONSec.com::winalski
Created:Tue Feb 18 1986
Last Modified:Thu Jun 05 1997
Last Successful Update:Fri Jun 06 1997
Number of topics:4127
Total number of notes:31160

4060.0. "The Joy of Growing Up Italian" by NAC::WALTER () Fri Oct 13 1995 14:49

        
The Joy of Growing Up Italian 

I was well into adulthood before I realized that I was an �American."  Of 
course, I had been born in America and had lived here all of my life, but 
somehow it never occurred to me that just being a citizen of the United States 
meant I was an American.  Americans were people who ate peanut butter and 
jelly on mushy white bread that came out of plastic packages.  Me?  I was 
Italian.

For me, as I am sure for most second generation Italian American children who 
grew up in the 40's or 50's, there was a definite distinction drawn between 
US and THEM.  We were Italians.  Everybody else -- they were the "MED-E-GANES."
There was no animosity involved in that distinction, no prejudice, nor hard 
feelings, just -- well -- we were sure ours was the better way.  For instance, 
we had a bread man, a coal and ice man, a fruit and vegetable man, a 
watermelon man, and a fish man.  We even had a man who sharpened knives and 
scissors who came right to our homes, or at least right outside our 
homes.  They were the many peddlers who plied the Italian neighborhoods.  We 
would wait for their call, their yell, their individual distinctive sound.  
We knew them all and they knew us.  Americans went to the stores for most 
their food -- what a waste.

Truly, I pitied their loss.  They never knew the pleasure of waking up every 
morning to find a hot, crisp loaf of Italian bread waiting behind the screen 
door.  And instead of being able to climb up on the back of a peddler's truck 
a couple off times a week just to hitch a ride, most of my "MED-E-GANE" 
friends had to be satisfied going to the supermarkets.  When it came to food, 
it always amazed me that my American friends or classmates only ate turkey 
on Thanksgiving or Christmas.  Or rather, that they ONLY ate turkey, stuffing, 
mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce.  Now we Italians, we also had turkey, 
stuffing, mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce, but only after we had finished 
the antipasto, soup, lasagna, meatballs, salad and whatever else mamma thought
might be appropriate for that particular holiday.  This turkey was usually 
accompanied by a roast of some kind (Just in case somebody walked in who 
didn't like turkey) and was followed by an assortment of fruits, nuts, 
pastries, cakes and of course, homemade cookies.  No holiday was complete 
without some home baking, none of the store bought stuff for us.  This is 
where you learned to eat a seven course meal between Noon and 4:00 p.m., how 
to handle hot chestnuts and put tangerine wedges in red wine.  I truly believe
Italians live a romance with food.

Speaking of food -- Sunday was truly the big day of the week!  That as the 
day you'd wake up to the smell of garlic and onions frying in olive oil.  As 
you were laying bed, you could hear the hiss as tomatoes were dropped into 
a pan.  Sunday we always had gravy (The MED-E-GANES'S call it sauce) and 
macaroni (they call it pasta).  Sunday would not be Sunday without going to 
mass.  Of course, you couldn't eat before mass because you had to fast before 
receiving communion, but the best part was knowing when we got home we'd 
find hot meatballs frying and nothing tastes better than newly fried meatballs 
and crisp bread dipped into a pot of gravy.

There is another difference between US and THEM.  We had gardens, not just 
flower gardens, but huge gardens where we grew tomatoes, tomatoes and more 
tomatoes.  We ate them, cooked them, jarred them.  Of course, we also grew 
peppers, basil, lettuce and squash.  Everybody had a grape vine and a fig 
tree and in the fall everybody made homemade wine, lots of it.  Of course, 
those gardens thrived so because we also had something else it seems our 
American friends didn�t have.  We had a grandfather!  It's not that 
they didn't have grandfathers, it's just that they didn't live in the same 
house, or on the same block.  They visited their grandfathers.  We ate with 
ours and God forbid we didn't see him at least once a day.  I can still 
remember my grandfather telling me about how he came to America as a young 
man "on the boat".  How the family lived in a rented 
tenement and took in boarders in order to help make ends meet, how he decided 
he didn't want his children, five sons and two daughters, to grow up in that 
environment.  All of this, of course, in his own version of Italian/English, 
which I soon learned to understand quite well.

So, when he saved enough, and I could never figure out how, he bought a 
house.  That house served as the family headquarters for the next 40 years.  I
remember how he hated to leave, would rather sit on the back porch and watch 
his garden grow and when he did leave for some special occasion, had to return
as quickly as possible.  After all, "nobody's watching the house."  I also 
remember the holidays when all the relatives would gather at my grandfather's 
house and there�d be tables full of food, and homemade wine and music, 
women in the kitchen, men in the living room and kids, kids everywhere.  I 
must have a half million cousins, first and second, and some who aren't even 
related, and grandfather, with his fine mustache trimmed, would sit in the 
middle of it all grinning his mischievous smile, his dark eyes twinkling, 
surveying his domain, proud of his family and how well his children had done.  
One was a cop, one a fireman, one had his trade and of course there 
was the rogue.  And the girls, they had all married well and had fine 
healthy children and everyone knew respect.

He had achieved his goal in coming to America to Massachusetts and now his 
children and their children were achieving the same goals that were available 
to them in this great country because they were Americans.  When my 
grandfather died years ago at the age of 76, things began to change.  Slowly 
at first, but then uncles and aunts eventually began to cut down on their 
visits.  Family gatherings were fewer and something seemed to be missing, 
although when we did get together, usually at my mother's house now, I always 
had the feeling he was there somehow.  It was understandable of course.  
Everyone now had families of their own and grandchildren of their own.  Today 
they visit once or twice a year.  Today we meet at weddings and wakes.

Lots of other things have changed too.  The old house my grandfather bought 
is now covered with aluminum siding, although my uncle still lives there, and 
of course, my grandfather's garden is gone.  The last of the homemade wine 
has long since been drunk and nobody covers the fig tree in the fall anymore.  
For a while we would make the rounds on the holidays, visiting the family.  
Now, we occasionally visit the cemetery.  A lot of them are there, 
grandparents, uncles, aunts and even my own father.

The holiday has changed too.  The great quantity of food we once consumed 
without any ill effects is no good for us anymore.  Too much starch, too much 
cholesterol and too many calories.  And nobody bothers to bake anymore -- too 
busy -- and it's easier to buy it now and too much is no good for you.  We 
meet at my house now, at least my family does, but it's not the same.

The differences between US and THEM aren't so easily defined anymore and I 
guess that's good.  My grandparents were Italian Italians, my parents were 
Italian Americans.  I'm an American Italian and my children are American 
Americans.  Oh, I'm an American all right and proud of it, just as my 
grandfather would want me to be.  We are all Americans now, the Irish, 
Germans, Polish and Jewish.  U.S. citizens all, but somehow I still feel 
a little bit Italian.  Call it culture, call it tradition, call it roots, 
I'm really not sure what is.  All I do know is that my children have been 
cheated out of wonderful piece of heritage.  They never knew my grandfather.
    
NOTE:  Although my father gave me this to type for him, I am unaware of
       the true author (I'd like to think it was my Dad, but alas, in my
       heart know better.)
    
       I also know that some will debate whether or not its a true cooks
       topic .. FWIW.. it might not be, then again, it all depends on who
       reads it.
                          
    cj
    
    
T.RTitleUserPersonal
Name
DateLines
4060.1SUBSYS::ARMSTRONGsort of cast in concreteFri Oct 13 1995 16:193
    CJ, thank you for posting that, it was lovely!
    
    ~beth
4060.2memories....BRAT::MINICHINOFri Oct 13 1995 16:568
    .0
    Ahhhh, the memories you brought back. I can't believe how close it was 
    to my growing up. I just re-read your note again, it's good to see that 
    some of us still retain a bit of our heritage through memories. I share
    mostly everything in that note. I got a great flashback. Holidays have
    changed a bit since, but I can still remember...........
    
    
4060.3MOLAR::DELBALSOI (spade) my (dogface)Fri Oct 13 1995 22:4540
Re: .0

What a great note!

Additions -

My Dad is a first generation Italian American, born in Solvay (Syracuse), NY
in 1914, his parents having come over "on a boat" about five years before
his birth, along with his father's parents, brothers, and sisters, all
of whom settled in Solvay to work for Allied Chemical, Syracuse China, and
Pass & Seymour. By the time my Dad was born, his Dad had opened a grocery
store, and, later, moved his own family to Eastwood, on the other side of
Syracuse.

By the time I was born, both my Great-grandfather and my Grandfather had passed
on. But Dad still had his Mom and lots of Aunts and Uncles with whom I grew up.

Visiting the family was a total sensory thrill. There was always a Victrola
playing Caruso. There was always a round-screen Black-and-white TV playing
Ed Sullivan or This is Your Life. There was always an infant of Prague
statue with votive candles. There was always an Uncle smoking a Parodi
cigar, or smoking some Red Man, or some Yara, in his pipe. There was the smell
of fresh gravy, and fresh egg noodles, and fried ribbons doused in powdered
sugar, and usually some sausage or some meatballs. And at Easter, there was
a braided bread with eggs embedded in the braid.

And when the adults sat down together, they drank Utica Club beer or home
made red wine. And we got cold 7-up - with potato chips, and ceci&fava.

The antipastos! Oh, the antipastos. To this day, I try to recreate the ones
I grew up to love. Roasted peppers, stuffed eggplant, olives of every variety,
pepperoni, salami, provolone, provolone, provolone, capers, pickled green
tomatoes, pickled beans!

Most of Dad's generation is now reaching end-of-life. Only one or two of
his folks' generation are still with us. I ended up being only half Italian.
American. My kids are only 1/4.

But nobody can take away that great food or those great memories.

4060.4Sounds so familiarPOWDML::VISCONTIMon Oct 16 1995 08:447
    Great note, brings back lots of memories, since th head of our family,
    my mother-in-law, lives with us, we still have most of the holiday
    meals which can relate to alot of .0, usually between 25 and 30 people
    for a sit-down meal, multi-courses, of course...
    
    Regards,
    
4060.5Close Italian friendsGENRAL::KILGOREThe UT Desert Rat living in COMon Oct 16 1995 11:419
I don't think I have any Italian blood in heritage but I do have the memories
of growing up with an Italian family.  My dad drove an ambulance while in the
military and his partner was the father of this family.  We stayed connected
throughout the years when I was a kid.

The lovely meals we would enjoy when we visited them.  Your note .0 and others
have brought so many memories.  Thanks!

Judy K.
4060.6ADISSW::HAECKMea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa!Mon Oct 16 1995 12:3117
    
    I may not be Italian, but I remember that kind of sense of family.  My
    dad's family used to congregate at a campground here in New Hampshire. 
    It was like a summer long family reunion.  There were nine siblings, 3
    of which had summer long rentals (one room cottages with no running
    water), and 2 others eventually got cottages too.  The rest would take
    cottages for a few weeks, or just show up and someone would put them
    up.  Our one room cottage slept six, and that was before we took out
    the cots.  If things were too crowded the kids slept in the station
    wagon, a great treat.  The cooking was more "Newfie" (my grandparents
    were from Newfoundland) but it was good fare.  Kidney stew and pea soup
    being some of my favorites.  And of course the biscuits.  

    My dad used to tell the story of my grandfather sitting at the cottage
    window watching a madhouse of grandchildren in the water and on the
    docks and skiing and sunning and he shook his head and said, "Would you
    look at what I started?"
4060.7How true, now for the receipes.MAL009::RAGUCCIMon Oct 16 1995 20:399
    Oh boy that notes is so true! Especially waking-up sunday mornings
    to the smell of that food, the tomatoes, garlic, yum!
    I felt like I was reading about my own family. I remember running
    to the corner store, alway for American & Italian bread.
    it was as you said, The Americanos'.  We always had American food
    with the Italian. Holidays always gravy with everything.
    Thanks for that beautiful memeory! I try real hard to keep that
    heritage in my life today. 
    BR
4060.8An Italian-in-law :^)SNOFS1::TUNBRIDGEAGhost in the Machine :-) Mon Oct 16 1995 21:5424
    Loved it too - 
    I'm marrying into that sort of a family. In Australia we have a whole
    generation of Italian migrants - my nearly-husband's parents' age - who
    still live almost exactly as they did in Italy. They're like a little
    time-capsule from 40 years ago. 
    
    My mother-in-law makes all her own pickled vegetables, which have been
    grown in the back garden - at the moment we have a big patch of broad
    beans just coming to ripeness; tomatoes and eggplants and capsicums
    going in real soon now. Stuffed melanzane are just the best. (I must
    post that recipe).
    
    I'm learning to make most of the dishes - my pasta sauce is about as
    good as hers now, even if I don't call it gravy :). Stuffed eggplants
    really work BEST if you remember to put the eggs in the mixture :-)
    She also butchers two pigs once a year or so and makes al the salamis
    and salted meat for the coming year. It's a culture which is going to
    die with that generation, their kids all say. None of their own wives
    are interested or have the time to do that. It will be a great pity. 
    
    The base note is an incredible piece of writing. Thanks for sharing it.
    
    ~Sheridan~
    
4060.9Sauce vs. Gravy ???POWDML::VISCONTITue Oct 17 1995 08:4220
RE: .7

    "... We always had American food with the Italian. 
     Holidays always gravy with everything."
                     ^^^^^

RE: .8

    "I'm learning to make most of the dishes - my pasta sauce is about as
     good as hers now, even if I don't call it gravy :)."
                                               ^^^^^

Even within my direct family we have passionate discussions around the
term SAUCE or GRAVY is correct.  My personal bias is Gravy is brown and
Sauce is RED, but my wife will say Red Gravy/Brown Gravy with Sauce being
reserved for French type sauces.

Regards,
Jim    

4060.10Thanks for the trip down memory lane!STAR::DIPIRROTue Oct 17 1995 11:4418
    	I finally got around to reading the base note, and it brought back
    a lot of memories for me too. I'm actually a first-generation American,
    my father having been born in Italy and "off the boat" himself. My
    grandmother, his mother, was the focal point in my Italian family. I
    never knew my grandfather. My grandmother died 11 years ago, and the
    same sort of disintegration has happened in my family too.
    	But I remember the Sunday mornings and waking up to the smells you
    mentioned. My mother still finds the time to make homemade sauce (and
    we always called it sauce). My father owned and ran the neighborhood
    Italian deli, and I worked there after school and during vacations from
    age 12 through college. I credit that experience for shaping me into
    the bizarre individual I am today!
    	Lots of pleasant memories from growing up Italian in an Italian
    neighborhood...a little piece of Italy surrounded by the real world.
    The real world has since encroached on that neighborhood. The old deli
    is gone, replaced by a modern building. My parents, who still live in
    the same house, were recently robbed. I can still see glimpses of the
    old neighborhood and history there, but things have changed a lot.
4060.11Sauce Vs. gravySNOFS1::TUNBRIDGEAGhost in the Machine :-) Wed Oct 18 1995 00:516
    re: .9
    
    All the local Italians call it sauce too, never gravy.
    
    ~S~
    
4060.12DFSAXP::JPTelling tales of Parrotheads and PartiesWed Oct 18 1995 08:541
I think gravy may be a southern Italianism, and sauce, northern.
4060.13POWDML::COULOURASWed Oct 18 1995 13:0614
    This is so unbelievably true!
    
    I am actually still living this life. My dad has Alzheimer's Disease
    and last year my parents sold their house and my daughters and I built
    a house and my parents live with me.
    
    This is the story my children will be telling some day. Everything you
    wrote is the exact way we spend our holidays, Sunday mornings etc.
    
    This was a beautiful story. I have forwarded it to my mail account and
    am going to print it off and give it to my children so that one day
    they can pass it on to their children.
    
    It is great to be Italian!
4060.14SNOFS1::TUNBRIDGEAGhost in the Machine :-) Wed Oct 18 1995 18:558
    re: -2
    My lot are as southern as you can get - Calabria is the toe of the
    boot.
    
    Next theory? :-)
    
    ~S~
    
4060.15sauce vs. gravy and my grandmotherKOOLIT::FARINAWed Oct 18 1995 20:5057
    When I went away to college, the girl across the hall from me was also
    an Italian American.  She said "gravy" and I said "sauce."  We had many
    mock battles over it!  When I went home to see my Nana (who came over
    on "the boat" at 18, leaving her parents behind forever), I asked her
    what kind of self-respecting Italian would call sauce gravy.  She said,
    "An Italian would NEVER call sauce gravy; a SICILIAN would call sauce
    gravy!"  To her credit, she was immediately very embarrassed that I had
    seen her only real prejudice, and apologized for sounding mean!
    
    Janine, whose family WAS from Sicily, and I got a big chuckle out of
    it!
    
    My grandmother, on the other hand, considered herself an American.  She
    worked very hard in this country.  She married young, had three sons,
    and was widowed and penniless at 35.  Her husband hadn't allowed her to
    learn English ("There will be time for that when the boys are grown,"
    he'd say), so she had to work in sweatshops in Lynn, then rush home to
    prepare meals for her boys.  My father says that he would have to ask
    his older brother what she was saying, because he could only speak
    English!  When she finally got her citizenship, she was extremely
    proud!  My mother once said, "I wish I had enough money to send you
    home for a visit, Ma."  Nana was extremely indignant and said, "THIS is
    my home!  I am an American!!"
    
    Nana's cooking was by texture and smell - not even by taste!  And she
    had recipes that everyone was crazy over, but she would never
    completely share them.  My aunt and cousin got most of them, but Lisa
    (my cousin) always said that she believes Nana purposely left something
    out, so that we would always miss her.  No one can duplicate her Pizza
    Ricotta, to this day.  And no one can duplicate her meatballs!  But
    every so often, I walk into my parents' house and memories of Nana come
    to me in a flood, because Dad is coming close to her incredible
    cooking!
    
    And some Easters, our most special Holiday with Nana, my aunt comes
    close, too.  And that flood of memories is very strong, because we
    spent so much time with Nana in that house.  We were in that house for
    Easter just before she died.  She had congestive heart failure, and in
    the final weeks started forgetting English words, reverting back to
    Italian.  She was very embarrassed by that, and kept apologizing to the
    nurses!  And when she could only remember slang English, she was
    especially embarrassed.  But she refused to die on Easter, because it
    was our biggest holiday together.  The doctors told us she wouldn't
    last the weekend, but I knew she wouldn't allow herself to go and leave
    us with that sad memory.  She lasted until just after midnight on
    Monday, and waited until after her children and their wives had been
    forced to leave the hospital.  Concetta DiScipio Farina was an amazing
    woman!  So many of our memories of her involve food, that I don't feel
    too bad about posting this in COOKS!
    
    The line about Italians having a romance with food is the truest thing
    I've ever read!  My mother's family is primarily Irish, and I would
    explain the differences to friends: "The Irish eat to live, but the
    Italians live to eat!"
    
    
    Susan                               
4060.16muffinsADISSW::HAECKMea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa!Thu Oct 19 1995 11:589
    My mother once tried to learn Nana's muffin recipe.  But Nana didn't
    use measures.  The flour as scooped out of the bin with which ever tea
    cup happened to be closest.  The salt was poured into the hand and just
    dumped into the bowl.  You get the idea.  My mom collected the cups and
    determined how many ounces it was.  She collected the salt and measure
    it before it was dumped into the bowl.  Do you think my mother's
    muffins were as good?
    
    Nope.
4060.17I say gravySEND::SEELEYThu Oct 19 1995 14:3043
    I've always called it 'gravy', and in college, too, had many
    interesting debates on what was "correct".  It's definitely localized
    to only parts of Italy (and not just Sicily), since I know many
    Italian Americans that call it one way, and many the other.  My mother
    called it gravy, and her parents were from a small town near Naples.
    
    Another big difference growing up was - we always eat salad with every
    dinner, and it's always the last course.  It isn't even put on the
    table until everybody is done with the main course.  A funny story my
    husband loves to tell everyone about my family is from the time when
    we were dating.  
    
    He came over for dinner one night.  As we started clearing dishes from
    the table, he saw my mother bring out some bowls.  His first thought to
    himself was, "Oh great, we're going to have ice cream!"  But to his 
    surprise, a salad was pulled from the refridgerator and everyone
    continued eating.  
    
    I can relate to .0 almost 100%, except that my grandfather and
    grandmother died when I was very young, so I really didn't know them
    from meeting them.  But I know them from stories, and my older brother
    and sister knew them.  If they were alive today, I'm sure that I'd know
    Italian.
    
    I do love to cook and bake our family's traditional recipes.  Homemade
    manicotti, cannolis (shells, too), eclairs and cream puffs, biscotti of 
    all type,...Cooking all of these things helps me to keep our family's 
    history in mind!  
    
    about the romance with food -- it's so true!!  Dinners on special
    occasions (not just holidays but even birthdays, and other times when
    we're all together) are typically several hours long.  
    
    I try to achieve this same atmosphere when I have my husbands family
    over, but it just doesn't happen.  Noone wants the salad, and everyone
    ajourns to other rooms fairly quickly.  My side of the family would still 
    have been eating for hours more!  The good thing, though, is my husband
    loves it all! 
    
    Lauren (Sacco) Seeley
    
    
    
4060.18NUBOAT::HEBERTCaptain BlighThu Oct 19 1995 16:2912
My good friend Genaro Ceccarini, whose family comes from someplace just
north of Naples, calls it gravy. Because of him I have boxes of gravy in
jars in my cellar - that is made from tomatoes and basil that I grew, and
Nancy and I canned.

Genaro's family is one of those being studied because they don't (right,
simply don't) have any history of heart disease. He has been part of this
study for almost twenty years.

Maybe that's the secret. If you eat gravy you don't get heart attacks.

Art
4060.19No two recipes are alikePOWDML::VISCONTIFri Oct 20 1995 09:3015
    re: .15
    
    "Nana's cooking was by texture and smell - not even by taste!  And she
    had recipes that everyone was crazy over, but she would never completely 
    share them.  My aunt and cousin got most of them, but Lisa (my cousin) 
    always said that she believes Nana purposely left something out, so that 
    we would always miss her..."
    
    > My father used to make the sauce in our family, although he taught
      my sister, my brother, and myself, each of our sauce's come out a
      little differently... and yes, I don't think we ever got the true
      recipe also
    
    Regard,
    Jim
4060.20TP011::KENAHDo we have any peanut butter?Fri Oct 20 1995 13:349
    Most cooks who cook by "feel" -- that is, without *seeming* to measure
    ingredients -- actually DO measure.  Based on years of experience, and
    hundreds of repetitions, they instinctively know that "Three and a half
    glugs of olive oil" is the correct amount.  If you could stop such a
    cook at each step of the cooking process, and carefully measure the
    amount of each ingredient, you'd probably find that they were amazingly
    consistent each time they made that recipe.
    
    I know -- that's the way I cook. (I've been cooking for forty years).
4060.21WAHOO::LEVESQUEshifting paradigms without a clutchFri Oct 20 1995 15:334
    And there are a lot of recipes that merely require a certain
    consistency to the finished product, like meatballs or bread. So
    absolute quantities are not necessary, so long as you have the
    proportions right.
4060.22another memory....FABSIX::A_POSTIZZISat Oct 21 1995 16:3447
I just got through reading the base not and all the replies. What a wonderful
experience. I'm Sicilian and my story carbons the original. I'd like to add
that what I remember most growing up in the West End of Boston (Scolloy Sq.)
is Easter Sunday morning.
Grandpa (Nannu), would be testing the spring wine with all his ol'e gumbardies.
on Holy Saturday night. Us kids having gone to confession at 4 o'clock that
afternoon, wouldn't dare think about doing anything sinful let alone getting in
any kind of mischief.

We all gave up something for lent, mostly candy except Chucky....he never gave 
up anything. Anyway, after making it through "stations" on Good Friday and
no radio that night, Saturday ushered in a very busy day.

Mama started the "Gravy"(Yes..we called it Gravy). After the gravy was on 
the stove simmering, she would then start the pizzelle, canolli and finally
the first of three cassata (ricotta pie). Our brownstone would take on a 
fusion of aromas that would keep us all full of anticipation. Folks it wasn't
just our brownstone that was blessed with this aroma, but the entire West End
an North End smelled of every province of Italy. And you couldn't touch a thing.
Saturday was still a day of fast (except for Chucky).

After the Saturday night bath it was  fried potatoes and eggs, not very festive
but Mamas pretty busy. There was no talk of the Easter Bunny or what the
bunny might bring us. We fell asleep to the busyness in the kitchen and the 
toxic aromas of hundreds of years of tradition. I could hear Grandpa out on
the street with his buddies deciding who's wine was ready and who's wasn't.
Finally to sleep.

Mama was up at 5:00am, she started the dough, then went to Mass at dawn.
Dad had hit the "number" this particular year, and we all had new shoes,
which I polished brightly the night before. Mama was back from Mass
and had made the expresso and biscotti for the Men. A little anisette,
and they were all set. We were sparkling and off to Mass. The way home was
a journey that will stay with me till the day I die. You have to understand
that the West End was occupied by both Sicilian and Jewish immigrants. The 
breads were all baking, the foods were cooking and all the windows are open
to cool of the kitchens. You were full just walking home from Church.

Allot has happened since then, somethings change and some stay the same.
As a chef and a caterer, I try to maintain these family traditions with 
my kids.........they just don't come around as much anymore.
Grandpa is gone, so is Mom and Dad, but every now and then my kids will say
"hey Dad, can you make that thing that you made last Christmas, you know
the one that smelled so good................" 

Well I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I had writing it.
						Anthony
4060.23N. ENDMAL009::RAGUCCISat Oct 21 1995 17:229
    
    .22 I sure did, I still love the fried eggs & potatoes, espcially
    with pork-chops and Italian bread. You guys are making me so happy
    and sad for my youth,  I try to visit the N. End as much as possible
    and eat as much as I can.
    All the feast, St. Anthony, etc... nice traditions!
    
    
    BR
4060.24More memoriesNAC::WALTERMon Oct 23 1995 12:5143
    Wow, I am really happy to hear all the replies to this topic.  
    
    I am too young to remember all the things that my father wrote about
    (if he indeed was the true author to this) but my parents moved into my
    grandmother's house when her husband died before I was born.  I can
    remember the gravy (we too called it that.  My maiden name is Aquilia.)
    The gravy with bread and meatballs being my personal favorite.  Grammy
    is in a nursing home now because she can't remember anything and could 
    hurt herself but she always asks "who is watching the house" when I go 
    to visit her.
    
    They all grew up in Waltham, MA and she helped run a bar/restaurant
    next to her mom's tenement house.  Her father died when she was 10 and
    that was when they came over "on the boat" with a family from her home
    town.  She had to quit school in the 8th grade to help her mom and also
    worked in the clock factory until she married one of the sons of the 
    family that came over when she did when she turned 16.  They were happily 
    married until he passed at 56.  She never remarried or dated.  He was 
    her one and only and she is proud of it.  
    
    We used to eat eggs for dinner all the time too.  We used to put
    eggplant in scrambled eggs with alittle gravy and sometimes just fry a
    dozen up with some spinach and garlic.  That was dinner Saturday night.  
    
    I also remember the shades being drawn in the afternoon Good Friday and
    my sister, brother and I staying in the house because that was "the way
    it was".   No meat on Friday's during Lent.  I wonder if the Catholic
    religon just got lazy because that is no longer the case and I probably
    wouldn't like seafood as much as I do today if that weren't the case 20
    years ago. :) There were NO exceptions when I was growing up but now it
    seems there is always an exception to every rule.
    
    My parents recently visited Sicily and were able to track the house
    that my grandfather was born in.  They even got his and my
    grandmother's birth certificate.  It was a memorable trip for them. 
    I hope to join them next year when they go again.  Afterall, we all
    have dual citizenship.  Must use it sometime.
    
    Again, I'm really happy to have brought back the memories for everyone.
    
                 
    
    cj
4060.25It's not _time_ for salad, yet!MOLAR::DELBALSOI (spade) my (dogface)Mon Oct 23 1995 13:3510
re: .17, Lauren

>    Another big difference growing up was - we always eat salad with every
>    dinner, and it's always the last course.  It isn't even put on the
>    table until everybody is done with the main course.

Absolutely! That's the way it always was, and the way it still is when I'm
serving dinner. My kids grew up like I did - thinking it was pretty strange
to get salad first in a restaurant!

4060.26CSC32::M_EVANSnothing's going to bring him backMon Oct 23 1995 22:399
    Isn't that the way it is always done?
    
    salad was always the "dessert" at home, and we aren't Italian from any
    of the geneology mom has tracked down.  
    
    Really surprised me the first time I was at a friends and salad came
    first
    
    meg
4060.27NEWVAX::LAURENTHal Laurent @ COPTue Oct 24 1995 09:1611
re: .26

>    Isn't that the way it is always done?
>    
>    salad was always the "dessert" at home, and we aren't Italian from any
>    of the geneology mom has tracked down.  

The French do it that way also.  I wouldn't be surprised if it's the custom
in lots of European countries.

-Hal
4060.28salad last and bacala?KOOLIT::FARINATue Oct 24 1995 18:1420
    My dad always claimed that eating the salad last was better for the 
    digestion!  He has finally given up keeping the salad at a restaurant 
    until last - only the older waitresses at the Modern Restaurant in 
    Nashua ever accommodated him, as far as I can remember.
    
    Does anyone else know about "bacala" - I have absolutely no idea what
    the correct spelling might be!  It was "traditional" on Fridays during
    lent - salt cod, potatoes and tomatoes.  Yuck!!  I'd probably love it
    if it was made right, but my dad was always "winging it" and it was not
    too good!  The thing with dad was (is!), no matter how awful it turns
    out, you have to eat it.  Wasting food is a sin!  One time he made the
    "bacala" when his brother was visiting and Mom was away.  He SALTED the
    potatoes and tomatoes and then added the salt cod!  It was disgusting!! 
    And he was going to make us eat it, but I'll never forget my uncle
    looking across the table at him and saying, "Bulls***, Bobby!!  I'm
    ordering pizzas!"  That was the one time we wasted food (oh, yes, and
    when he made the brownies with pureed prunes instead of butter!).
    
    
    Susan
4060.29SNOFS1::TUNBRIDGEAGhost in the Machine :-) Tue Oct 24 1995 18:313
    I heard, or read, somewhere that eating salad at the end of the meal is
    good to settle your tum after all the greasy/spicy food you've just
    eaten. It makes the digestion work better, or something. Bit hazy ..
4060.30BacalaSNOFS1::TUNBRIDGEAGhost in the Machine :-) Tue Oct 24 1995 18:3917
    Bacala (also not sure of the spelling) is something that my
    mother-in-law makes quite a bit. I can't eat it - one of the VERY few
    dishes she makes that I actually don't like. Sam loves it, though! It's
    his favourite.
    
    you ge salted cod, soak it in water for about three days, changing the
    water every so often... this rehydrated the fish and removes some of
    the salt. As far as I know, she just pan-fries it, with potatoes and
    tomatoes and perhaps capsicums too. Seems quite simple to me. Pity I
    don't like strong fish ...
    
    If this explanation isn't sufficient, ask me, and I'll go over and ask
    her to explain exactly how it's done. Mail me at [email protected].
    
    Cheers,
    ~Sheridan~
    
4060.31Growing up a squid-eating Italian!STAR::DIPIRROWed Oct 25 1995 11:1730
    	This now seems like as good a place as any to ask something I've
    wondered for a while. There's a particular dish that my Italian
    grandmother made and which my mother now makes, and I've never run into
    anyone else who has heard of it...and that includes everyone in the
    Italian neighborhood where I grew up and who came into the Italian deli
    where I worked as a kid. It seems unique to a very small region of
    Italy (Gaeta). I don't know how to spell it, but it sounds like "tiel
    de calamari" which loosely translates to "squid pie." This is not a
    dessert pie but more of a stuffed pizza pie. There's a thin pizza-type
    crust on the bottom and one on top. The filling has chopped squid,
    pinnolis (sp?), raisins, tons of garlic, oregano and other herbs, and
    I'm not sure what else. I have my mother's recipe but have never tried
    to make it myself. As a kid, this was my absolute favorite dish, and it
    still ranks up there even though I don't have it very often.
    	It was funny as a kid. NO ONE ate squid...except us. When we were
    on Cape Cod, my grandmother and her sisters and brothers would go to
    Woods Hole, and they would give them buckets of squid which had been
    trapped in their nets (for free). We would sit out in the backyard and
    clean all the squid assembly-line style. Then nanny would go to work
    making squid pie, stuffed squid, red squid sauce for pasta, squid stew,
    and, of course, fried calamari. I ate tons of squid as a kid, and all
    my friends thought it was disgusting. Now look what you pay for the
    stuff! It's still one of my favorites. In fact, I just ate a big pile
    of fried calamari Saturday night!
    	I'm curious with the Italians now reading this note if anyone else
    is familiar with this dish...or if anyone is interested enough in the
    "recipe" that I should dig it up and post it. I say "recipe" as you
    know because the measurements are not very precise, and some
    experimentation will be necessary. Even my mother's never tastes
    exactly the same from one time to the next...but it's always delicious.
4060.32PENUTS::DDESMAISONSperson BWed Oct 25 1995 11:489
>>    	I'm curious with the Italians now reading this note if anyone else
>>    is familiar with this dish...or if anyone is interested enough in the
>>    "recipe" that I should dig it up and post it.

	i'm not italian, but i'd _love_ it if you'd post the recipe, thanks.

	diane

4060.33EMOTIONS ARE RUNNINGMKOTS3::EARLYWed Oct 25 1995 11:5217
    I haven't logged into this account for a while, and I just finished
    reading the base note.  I cannot believe how everything you mentioned
    and the way you described it was exactly the way I grew up.  I was very
    fortunate enough to enjoy my grandparents into my early twenties.  My
    mother and father have continued the tradition, but it also has
    somewhat changed, due to my mother's illness.  My sister's and I have
    attempted to continue the tradition, but life is very different today
    than in the 50's, but we do our best.  I am also sending this to my mail
    account so that I can print this and pass it out to my sisters and
    hopefully it will inspire them as it did me to persue the Italian
    traditions so that our children will have fond memories also.
    
     Thanks again for the memories and inspiration!
    
     Camille
    
     
4060.34Please post the recipeDONVAN::FARINAWed Oct 25 1995 17:299
    RE: .31 - I've never heard of it, either, but would love to have the
    recipe!  Sounds delicious.  My Irish mother wouldn't allow my father to
    have squid in the house (thought it was disgusting) and I never tried
    it until this year.  Love it!  My 3-year-old niece loves to put the
    fried calamari rings on her fingers and eat them off!  I know I could
    invite my brother's family over and try out your mom's recipe.
    
    
    Susan
4060.35Bakala - the Official WordSNOFS1::TUNBRIDGEAGhost in the Machine :-) Thu Oct 26 1995 08:1732
    Spke with my Suocera this morning, and got the low-down on the Bakala.
    
    
    Take your dried salted cod (the official bakala fish) and soak in fresh
    water for 2-3 days, changing the water twice a day.
    
    In a large fry-pan, cook onions in oil until transparent. Add either
    fresh tomatoes, chopped, or tinned peeled tomatoes, chopped. Cook
    gently until most of the liquid has evaporated and the sauce is thick
    ... then add some water. 
    
    Add the fish, in pieces, to the sauce, and poach until cooked, turning
    carefully with a fish slice to prevent it breaking up. This shouldn't
    take long.
    
    At this point you have the option of adding potatoes to the dish - if
    you want to do this, carefully remove the fish to a plate. Add slices
    of potatoes to the red sauce, again adding water if necessary. Cook
    gently until the potatoes are done, then add the fish back in to warm.
    
    Seasonings - should not need more salt, but depends on your taste.
    Nancy (mother-in-law) says that quite a lot of the salt is removed by
    the soaking, so taste-test is imperative. No other seasonings were
    mentioned, so I guess you do it to your own taste.
    
    Sounds dead easy, and I'm going to try it with a not quite so strong
    fish sometime. Can't cope with the cod.
    
    Enjoy,
    ~Sheridan~
    :^)
    
4060.36Christmas EveFABSIX::A_POSTIZZIThu Oct 26 1995 09:089
RE: .31

Love Calamari. Would be very interested in the recipe. I'm catering a 
Christmas Eve diner and buffet,might use the Pie as one of the appertizers.
I also have some Baccala recipes, if anyone is interested. For those
Italians who wish to hold on to some tradition, the Christmas Eve Seafood
Buffet is a good one. It would very interesting, however, to hear of other 
ethnic Christmas Eve Supper traditions.
Anthony
4060.37Calamari & Linguine:MAL009::RAGUCCIThu Oct 26 1995 22:1312
    
    We also ate the fried calamari, my mother let us help her clean
    them (we actually played with the squid) clean all the ink out
    soak them good, then the stuffing, close the ends with toothpicks,
    and in the frying pan. We had that with linguine, and sauce.
    She was the only one who ate the tentacles.
    you have to pay good money for that dish today. Oh I miss that food.
    keep the stories coming.
    
    
    
    BR
4060.38SCAS01::SODERSTROMBring on the CompetitionFri Oct 27 1995 16:273
    YOu can tell by my name I'm not Italian, but I sure do envy your
    stories.
    Please keep your traditions coming..I am envious.
4060.39Family HappinessCSLALL::DKYMALAINENWed Nov 01 1995 15:0528
    This note brought up so many happy memories.  The base note sounds just
    like my mother's family and all the holidays that have been celebrated
    together.  My grandfather died when I was about 9 so all I remember is
    my grandmother being head of the family and sitting at that place at
    the table.  Nonna even mentions - "look at what I started"  My mother
    is one of six children, and there are 19 grandchildren and
    approximately 13 great-grandchildren.  
    
    Every year at Thanksgiving, we spend the day at my uncle's with
    anywhere from 20-50 other people present.  We all help prepare the
    feast with some type of contribution, and each family brings along a
    dessert for after dinner.  The day starts at 11:00 a.m. and usually
    ends around 9 p.m.  This is a sit down meal, and there is so much
    tradition that goes with this day.
    
    This will be the last one as the babies of the 19 grandchildren will be
    graduating from high school this coming year and will be off on their
    way and the family keeps expanding.  I have been doing this since I was
    a child, and now my children look forward to this day of celebration.  
    
    As mentioned in previous notes, as these traditions stop the memories
    will still be there but the closeness will start to fade and we will
    only see each other for weddings or funerals.
    
    Thank you for starting this note.
    
    Donna
    
4060.40SCAS01::SODERSTROMBring on the CompetitionThu Nov 02 1995 17:133
    I am not Italian but have enjoyed the stories so far.
    
    If only I had been brought up in the North End...........dream on....
4060.41Cross-reference - BacalaSNOFS1::TUNBRIDGEAGhost in the Machine :-) Wed Nov 08 1995 04:098
    I was taking a trip down memory lane in the file of COOKS printouts
    that I had collected over the years and found a Portuguese recipe that
    looks and sounds veyr much like Bakala, for those who were enquiring
    earlier in this note ... see 2055.31.
    
    Cheers,
    ~Sheridan~
    
4060.42BucalaNCMAIL::RECUPARORWed Dec 13 1995 14:187
    I am looking for some old Italian recipies for preparing bucala (sp)
    which is basicly dried cod.  I would be interested in cold salads,
    baked dish's ect.  I look but could not find anything in the file.  
    
    Thanks
    Rick
    
4060.43DFSAXP::JPTelling tales of Parrotheads and PartiesWed Dec 13 1995 14:366
    I think there is something in one of the Italian food notes.  Also, I
    believe the spelling is Bacala, or Baccala or something like that
    (definitely bac... not buc...).
    
    -jp
    
4060.44PENUTS::DDESMAISONSperson BWed Dec 13 1995 15:452
   .42 please see replies .35 and .41 within this note.
4060.45Ma's Squid Pie recipe, at long last!STAR::DIPIRROThu Dec 14 1995 11:3248
	As promised, I finally managed to dig up my mother's recipe
for squid pie. This is more like a stuffed pizza, with crust on top
and the bottom with a squid-based filling. Looking at the recipe,
it doesn't look too difficult. If anyone makes it, I'm curious what
you think. I'm attempting to covert my mother's longhand description
of how to make this into something which resembles a recipe.

			Squid "Pie"

Ingredients:

2 pkg pizza dough (fresh better than frozen; home-made best of all)
3 lbs. squid, cleaned and chopped into small pieces (tentacles too)
1/4 cup fresh parsley (Italian - chopped)
1/4 cup fresh basil (chopped)
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1/3 cup raisins
1/4 cup pignolies (pine nuts)
12 black olives, cut into quarters
3 fresh tomatoes, skin removed and cut into eighths
1/4 cup olive oil (for filling, plus a little more)
salt and pepper to taste

Preparation:

	To make the filling, add the squid to salted, boiling water
and simmer for 20-25 minutes. Then drain. In a large bowl, mix the
squid with the rest of the above ingredients except the pizza dough.
Now, lightly oil a cookie sheet and roll one piece of pizza dough
out and onto the sheet. Put all the filling on top and spread it
around. Roll out the second piece of pizza dough and place over the
top. Make a couple of small slits in the top piece to let steam
escape. Seal the edges well. Brush the top with olive oil. Now bake
on the bottom shelf of a preheated 400 degree oven for about 30
minutes, until the dough is golden.


	That's about it. This makes 1 squid pie, probably about 6-8
servings or like 2 Italians! I know that I eat an enormous amount of
this whenever I have it.
	Experiment with the dough a little. Some people prefer a very
thin crust and others like it thicker, so you can actually pick up
pieces to eat. It's all a matter of taste. I've been known to throw
a little crushed red pepper into the filling to spice it up a little.
It depends on what you like. It's usually easier to cut rectangular
pieces to eat rather than pizza slice shapes since they hold in the
filling better. Like I said, let me know what you think or if you
try any alterations that come out good.
4060.46I know this isn't ::GARDEN, but...LYCEUM::CURTISDick "Aristotle" CurtisTue Jan 09 1996 22:0121
    .0:
    
    I'd like to know how your folks got a fig tree to make it through these
    <censored> New England winters!  The descriptions I've read say that
    the varieties touted as unusually hardy for the species are actually
    good to the mid-20's (that's +20's, and most of the state gets annual
    winter lows between -5 and -20�F)
    
    
    .17 & ff:
    
    I believe that salads at the end of a meal was common to most of Europe
    (at least western and central parts) for most of the past several
    centuries.  Moving it to the beginning is an innovation of
    restauranteurs attempting to keep their clientele satisfied (and
    preventing the disappearance of entire loaves of bread and trays of
    rolls while the family of four awaits their meal with exponentially-
    increasing irritation).
    
    Dick
    
4060.47Keeping it out of the wind is keyMOLAR::DELBALSOI (spade) my (dogface)Wed Jan 10 1996 08:2010
>    I'd like to know how your folks got a fig tree to make it through these
>    <censored> New England winters!

Hi Dick,
   I know it sounds odd, but my father's family was always able to keep a
   fig tree flourishing in Syracuse, where it typically gets a lot colder
   that southern NH or eastern MA (2 week spells of -double_digits not
   uncommon.)
-Jack

4060.48Great note!!HANNAH::MILANESEMon Jan 15 1996 15:0948
    Had a friend over for dinner Sat. night
    and she said she loved the smell of the
    tomato sauce I was cooking.
    
    I told her...it's gravy!!  We call it gravy,
    not sauce.  The distinction in my family is..
    if it's made with meat, it's gravy, if not,
    sauce.
    
    She then told me about this note in this notes
    file.  I have loved reading it. It reminds
    me of my youth growing up in the 40's and 50's
    in Revere and Malden Mass.
    
    I so miss the Italian food at the holidays.  
    I always figure that people really don't know
    how to eat; turkey is OK, but only turkey?
    No antipasto, no soup, no macaroni.  My favorite 
    was the Christmas Eve fish feast...yum...lobster fra 
    diavolo, stuffed calamari in a tomato sauce, 
    shrimp salad..sigh..
    
    And, yes, salad with every meal..after the meal.
    
    The first time I ate at somebody's house who
    was not Italian I was shocked at the little amount
    of food they served.  My friend's mother put a
    pot pie on the table for supper....nothing else..
    no other vegetables, no salad..nothing.  I remember
    being perplexed wondering where the rest of the
    food was.  Luckily, my parents brought up a polite child
    who didn't blurt out, "This is ALL there is!!"
    
    The homemade wine, bread, the large meals on Sunday,
    and "eggs and"...eggs and potatoes, asparagus and
    eggs, peppers and eggs, with loaves of Italian bread.
    My partner thinks that potatoes and eggs is just
    about the best thing she ever ate.
    
    Peasant food, the food we ate as kids because we were
    poor, is now the rage at restaurants....My parents used
    to make a tuna fish and black olive with linguini, which
    I still make to this day.  Saw it in a restaurant a
    few months ago for about $15.95.
    
    Thanks for posting this note; it was a great trip 
    down memory lane...now, if I could just get my
    biscotti to taste like my mother's!!
4060.49Oh yes :DMAL009::RAGUCCIMon Jan 15 1996 21:289
    
    peppers, potatos & eggs, delicious! I felt the same as you and thank
    god some of us can remember those "Depression Dishes" as my mother
    called them. Your right! I've seen some of the meals we grew up
    with in posh Italian Restaraunts costing $15.00 and up. It was
    nice to hear from you. Happy memories and eating.
    
    Bob R.
    
4060.50recipes if you have them pleaseNAC::WALTERTue Jan 16 1996 07:5315


    .48 would you mind posting your lobster and stuffed calamari recipes if
    you have them?

    My grandmother used to make peppers and eggs all the time.  It was not
    uncommon for her to whip up a dozen eggs with spinach either for a 
    late night "snack".  My favorite eggs are still the hard boiled ones
    that sit in the gravy as it cookes all day.  I also loved the pork
    chops that my mother used to put in the gravy too.

    
    Thanks..
    cj
4060.51A recipe for marinara sauce for Fra DiavoloHANNAH::MILANESETue Jan 16 1996 10:4957
    Yes, pork chops in gravy...I just made
    a batch of gravy with pork chops and
    bracciole...yum!
    
    I don't do calamari myself, but my mother
    used to stuff it with a bread stuffing
    similar to what you'd put in a chicken or
    turkey.
    
    For shrimp or lobster fra diavolo, I make
    a marinara sauce and make it hot (spicy).
    
    Many variations of marinara exist, but
    this is the one I use and like better than
    most others I have eaten:
    
    1/3 c each chopped carrot, onion, celery
    2 large garlic cloves
    1 t each of basil and mint
    1/4 t oregano
    1 T parsley
    
    One large can of whole plum tomatoes
    or about 12 fresh plum tomatoes..I actually
    find the canned tomatoes less acidy.
    
    Crush the canned tomatoes with your hands,
    taking out the hard core.  Use the juices
    that are in the can, too.  With fresh 
    tomatoes, I skin them and remove the core, 
    too.  Use only plum tomatoes--very important.
    
    Hot pepper to taste
    
    Olive Oil-enough to saute the vegetables-
    maybe 2-3 T
    
    Saute the onions, garlic, carrots, celery
    and spices (not the parsley) in the oil.  
    When the veggies are the consistency you 
    like, turn up the heat to high, let the pan 
    get very hot, and add the tomatoes.  
    
    Turn down the heat, add the parsley, and 
    simmer for about 15 minutes...no more.
    
    Voila..it's ready.  Put over pasta and the
    shrimp or lobster. I prefer not to cook the
    fish in the sauce, because of the taste the
    fish may give to the marinara....my preference.
    
    If you try it, let me know how you like it.
    I often just make the marinara and serve it
    with a rigatoni or some other hearty type
    macaroni.
    
    Sylvia
4060.52SUPER::GOODMANWed Jan 17 1996 10:148
    If gravy is tomato "sauce" with meat
    and tomato sauce is without meat...
    
    What do you call the "sauce" that contains
    fat or butter with flour and liquid otherwise 
    known as gravy in this country?
    
    Inquiring minds want to know!
4060.53Gravy, of course!!HANNAH::MILANESEWed Jan 17 1996 10:3714
    >What do you call the "sauce" that contains
    >fat or butter with flour and liquid otherwise
    >known as gravy in this country?
    
    Why, gravy, of course, silly!!  8^)
    
    Robin,"gravy" is an Italian thing..it
    just is.  No logical reason.  It just
    is.  Stop trying to figure it out and
    just enjoy good meatballs, sausages, 
    bracciole etc. with pasta and gravy.  8^)
    YUM!!
    
    That is, if you eat meat.   
4060.54Bracciole with eggs...STAR::DIPIRROWed Jan 17 1996 14:205
    	Speaking of eggs and things, when my grandmother and now my mother
    makes bracciole, she would wrap the meat (and filling) around a
    hard-boiled egg in the center, use string to hold it together, and
    after frying it in olive oil, toss it into the sauce. She'd throw pork
    chops, small steaks, meatballs, and God-knows-what-else in there too.
4060.55Thank YouSWAM1::KAWA_MISun Feb 18 1996 21:139
    
    
       I have not looked into cooks for quite some time. Normally I am a
    reader only, but I have to respond to the the original note. It is 
    probably one of the most beautiful pieces of prose I have read in a
    long time. Thank you very much.
    
                                               Mike Kawa