Author: gigisimeone

I knew my daughter Maria had just moved into an Italian neighborhood in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, when I saw the giant Virgin Mary shrine on her neighbor's porch. But any lingering doubts, if I had them, would have been expelled by the multiple expressions of ethnic pride one sees just walking down the street. From the … Continue reading 47. Ethnic Pride

Naples is filled with iconic sights. There's Mount Vesuvio overlooking the Bay of Naples. There's the treasures in the National Archeological Museum. There's the food, ranging from pizza to sfogliatelle. But I think ranking in the top ten would be the characteristic sight of narrow streets festooned with laundry hanging from the balconies. In Italy, … Continue reading 46. Laundry Day

Italians love babies. Not like the Americans who give phony lip service to family values and protecting the innocent, but then don't want to spend a nickel on their actual well-being, or even necessarily want to be around them. I mean really love them. Babies seem to always be out and about with their families, … Continue reading 45. Baby Love

Oh, no! Say it ain't so! I opened the New York Times on Wednesday, to see a full-page announcement from Starbucks that they were opening a shop in Milan. This first is a special "Roastery" shop, to be followed by four regular, Frappuccino-serving stores in the near future. As the ad suggests, Howard Schultz, Starbucks' … Continue reading 44. More coffee talk

In 1987, Ben and I decided to honeymoon in Italy. And what a wonderful trip that was, three weeks driving aimlessly, stopping in any town that caught our fancy. Of course, many of our highlights were food-related: not surprisingly, a wonderful dinner In Parma, known worldwide for its prosciutto, but also a great restaurant in … Continue reading 43. Looking Back

One stereotype of Southern Italy is that it is a dangerous place. Whether from the higher rates of poverty and unemployment than the North's, or because of its famous crime syndicates -- the Mafia in Sicily, the Camorra in Napoli, the 'Ndrangheta in Calabria -- one feels maybe one is taking a bit of a … Continue reading 42. Criminals

My mother's family story is the classic story of Italian immigration. According to my cousin Joan O'Reilly, our grandparents both came as children from the mountain village of Trivigno, Basilicata, searching for economic opportunity and a better life. My grandfather Anthony Casella, an orphan, came with his older sister when he was ten, and was … Continue reading 41. My mother’s side

What does it mean to be related? Why do we feel a bond to family with whom we share little but DNA? I wonder, and yet I feel very emotional when I have the chance to spend time with my Italian cousins. My cousin Angela and I share the name of our paternal grandmother - … Continue reading 40. Cousins

My sentimental choice for Best Beach in the World is Spiaggia di Serapo in Gaeta, Italy, my father's hometown. Characteristically, it is divided up into private beach clubs with perfectly even rows and rows of matching umbrellas and chairs. Uncharacteristically, the sand is white and fine, not rocky, and the swimming is just perfect.My father … Continue reading 39. Swimming Along

"In 1948 after a long war and almost 10 years of absence, I went back to Gaeta, arrived at my home at 10 in the morning, changed into my shorts and just like the good old days, I went to the beach. I continued doing that until 1951 when I got married. It was only … Continue reading 38. Roots