In my household, the word tucci means male genitalia. It's not a cute word that one of our kids used as babies or anything like that. It's actually named for the actor Stanley Tucci, who made a big impression on us when we saw him in 2003 in Frankie and Johnny in the Claire de … Continue reading 123. Tucci
I just finished Jane Christmas' book Incontinent on the Continent: My Mother, Her Walker, and Our Grand Tour of Italy. Ms. Christmas, a Canadian writer of physical and spiritual "journey memoirs," decided to take a six-week jaunt through Italy with her elderly mother, with the not-so-hidden agenda of settling long-held scores and growing closer. Both … Continue reading 122. Travels with Mama
I always have angels from Naples at the top of the tree On December 14, 1984, my father, a nearly daily correspondent, tells me that he had spent the morning writing a letter to his nephew Giacomo in Rome. Even though he spent his first nineteen years in Italy, he writes, "It is so hard … Continue reading 121. Christmas in the pandemia
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
Gigi's Italia 