I'm not sure it was a dream, but a few weeks ago, I woke up with that mental ping I get when something occurs to me that just seems right. I woke up with the idea to bike my way through Sicily. On New Year's, costumed men distribute oranges from traditional Sicilian carts I know … Continue reading 120. Dreams of Sicilia
It appears to be unknowable. If you Google "How many types of pasta are there in Italy?" you will get answers ranging from 67 to thousands. I would be inclined to put my money on the thousands, as every town seems to have its own specialties -- by size, shape, ingredients, and preparation -- not … Continue reading 119. Pasta Gigi
She watched the sun rise over the Tuscan landscape and she wept. It was the last day of her first journey to Italy, and she simply did not want to leave. She and her husband had traveled widely, but somehow, the spirit of this place grabbed hold of her. Several years and many journeys later, … Continue reading 118. Solo in Salento
I come from a very Catholic corner of Massachusetts. There were not many Italians, but there was a good representation of people of Portuguese, Irish and French Canadian descent. My very small town had a separate Catholic church for each of these ethnic groups, plus another one besides. In the small neighboring city of Fall … Continue reading 117. San Francesco d’Assisi
I have always felt I had the best father in the world. I know, of course, that many people are lucky enough to feel the same way about their own fathers. But no one has ever said that about my grandfather. My grandfather, the only grandparent I've ever known, had a bit of a reputation … Continue reading 116. Grandpa
A Blue Book means something very particular to me. No, not the Kelley Blue Book that tells you the value of the used car you are planning to buy. Or the Blue Book that listed the socially-prominent American blue bloods. Not even the all-purpose exam book of my college days. No, a blue book my … Continue reading 115. Blue Book
I am embarrassed to say that I don't really properly appreciate art. I breeze through museums at my normal walking speed, wondering what those people are seeing who sit on those benches in the middle of the gallery, staring at one picture endlessly. I've even audited several art history courses in the hopes of deepening … Continue reading 114. Christo, 1935-2020
Late May is always an especially evocative time for me. It was the time, thirty-three years ago, that we had our honeymoon in Italy. I had not been back since 1965, when I spent the summer in my father's hometown of Gaeta. We had a few set things that we wanted to do -- return … Continue reading 113. Honeymoon Memories
One of the great joys of spring for me is thinking about and planning my upcoming trip to Italy.It's not that I have a strict policy of going every year, but it just seems to miraculously work out that way. I have gone often enough that I have already been to all of the must-sees, … Continue reading 112. In the meantime
I never knew any of my maternal forebears before my mother. But I am lucky to have photographs of five generations of women in my family tree. Here's one of my great-grandmother, a few years after immigrating to Chicago from Trivigno, a hilltop village in Basilicata. My grandmother is on the left; she went on … Continue reading 111. Mother’s Day
Gigi's Italia 