As an American, I naturally think of Italians emigrating to the great cities like New York, Philadelphia, Boston and Chicago, to the smaller ones like Providence and New Haven, and to a certain extent to Latin America, the family of Pope Francis (ne Bergoglio) being a prime example. But it turns out that nearly 400,000 … Continue reading 103. Italian-Australians
Christmas in Italy is famously a low-key affair, at least in comparison to America. Actually, Christmas everywhere is a low-key affair compared to here, where consumerism rules the roost. In Italy, it's traditionally been limited to the Feast of the Seven Fishes Christmas Eve, Mass, and a few gifts for the children on the Feast … Continue reading 102. Natale
The New York Times, which seems to share my obsession with all things Italian, published an article this week about the city of Bari cracking down on its handmade orecchiette makers, older ladies who set up shop outside on the narrow streets in front of their houses, and make orecchiete by hand on large tray … Continue reading 101. Little Ears
My daughter Lizy tells me that the average number of posts that people who start blogs do is -- zero. I get that. Aspirations often outstrip reality. It's not so easy to see something, recognize its significance, and then write about it. But for me and Italy, the ideas just keep coming -- far beyond … Continue reading 100. Scenes of Italy
I have always felt that the expression "Everything happens for a reason" is ridiculous. Sure, things sometimes work out, but everything? For a reason? What about cancer? Child abuse? War? Trump? But now I'm not so sure. Back in 2014, my dear friend Lisa got engaged to Jesse. They had met in a grief group … Continue reading 99. The Gift
Sure, one travels to see the biggies for oneself - the Coliseum, the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben. There's no shame in that. But it's those little unexpected moments that stayed tucked in our memories forever, long after the selfie at the Trevi Fountain has been forgotten. It happened for us when Tonio invited us to … Continue reading 98. Magic Moments
I always celebrate my birthday with a nice Italian meal. It used to be Babbo in New York before Mario Batali's disgrace, or Brigantessa in Philadelphia. So when I realized when the two-week-long olive harvest took place, I couldn't resist scheduling our trip to include my birthday, November 18. We spent the afternoon on the … Continue reading 97. Birthday in Roma
It takes a lot of moxie to call yourself the Bread City in Italy.Italian bread is uniform in its excellence, but like all regional specialties, not in its shape, taste or texture. Genoa is known for its focaccia. Sicilian bread is made with semolina flour and often has sesame seeds sprinkled on top. The Tuscan … Continue reading 96. Bread City
Of course, going to Italy, you know you're always in for a treat, food-wise. But one's wildest imaginings don't come close to the home cooking we were treated to in Grazia and Rosanna Creanza's kitchens. Grazia, Tonio's 85-year-old mother, and his sister-in-law, Rosanna, who lives upstairs, provided three meals every day to our band of … Continue reading 95. Oh, the Food
Rube Goldberg comes to mind. Or that old board game Mousetrap. But what will linger in my memory most is the smell: the beautiful, rich smell of crushed olives. After our first day in the groves, we went along with Tonio as he brought our half-ton haul to the press. (We picked a full ton … Continue reading 94. At the Press
Gigi's Italia 