When in Rome ... on Easter, the obvious thing to do is head to the Mother Ship. It's almost too obvious. But there I was today, with 80,000 other tourists and locals, for the Easter Mass in St. Peter's Square. I am a world-class stander. The instructions "Get there early" don't scare me a bit. … Continue reading 68. The Mother Ship
I'm a hard-core runner. Not in terms of distance or speed, but every-day-ness. And my need to do it every day is a special gift when I'm traveling. There's no better way to get the lay of the land, and have the joy of watching a place come to life and start its day.This morning, … Continue reading 67. Easter Morning Run
Here are the three things my father told me about Easter in Gaeta, Italy: 1. At 11 a.m. on Easter Saturday, the worms come out of the cream puffs. I can only surmise that this was a little fib told to keep children from swiping the special Easter pastry too soon. Not to generalize about … Continue reading 66. Pasqua
I saw a sign a few weeks ago in a South Philly bakery for an upcoming Red Gravy Cook-Off to benefit the East Passyunk Community Organization. "We're in," I said to Ben, my good sport husband. And sure enough, two weeks later, we were there, with our friends Nanette and Rick. The event was held … Continue reading 65. Pastabilities
Really, New York Times? Two full pages? The occasion of the assassination of Mafia boss John Calli was irresistible to the New York Times, which printed a two-page detailed listing of mob killings going back to Albert Anatastia in 1957, with all of the particulars of each of the "whacks." In the general culture, and … Continue reading 64. The Mob
Anyone who has ever known me would assume I was lying if I said I went to a nightclub for Valentine's Day. I don't know which they would find more unbelievable: the "night" or the "club." But Maria Rossi, the nice young woman who periodically joins our Italian conversation group to try to nudge us … Continue reading 63. Cantare (to sing)
Super Bowl Sunday is so close to being a national holiday that I actually wondered for a minute if the supermarkets would be open. But if not an actual holiday, at the every least, it's a national festival, with its own special foods, traditions with family and friends, and shopping opportunities to buy big-screen TVs … Continue reading 62. La Festa di Super Bowl
I feel awash in stereotypes of my people. Not actual Italians, but Italian-Americans. On Sunday, I saw Green Book, a movie based on the true story of an Italian-American man from the Bronx who drives an African-American pianist through the Deep South for a concert tour in the early 1960s. I loved the movie, but … Continue reading 61. Stereotypes
Tombola is a Southern Italian game, played especially around Christmas. Invented in Naples in the 18th century, it looks like Bingo to American eyes, the object being to fill the squares on one's card as numbers are called out. But here's what's special about it. Each of the numbers is associated with a person or … Continue reading 60. Tombola
People are surprised to hear that I didn't grow up with the custom of the "Seven Fishes" on Christmas Eve. In the old days, when being Catholic meant no meat on Christmas Eve, Italians, especially in the South, made their meal of "sacrifice" into a feast. No surprise there. The traditional dinner includes fried smelts, … Continue reading 59. The Feast of the Seven Fishes
Gigi's Italia 