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
There's something about Christmas that makes us nostalgic, weepy even, about Christmases past. My father, a world-class weeper, was certainly not immune from that. I came across this Christmas memory in a 1981 letter he wrote to me while he was listening to Italian Christmas songs, more than 40 years after leaving Gaeta. (An article … Continue reading 58. Zampognari
Is it better to live in an apartment with light, heat and a toilet? Or to live in a cave with your extended family, your chickens and a donkey? This was the question that the government of Italy asked itself in the 1950s when faced with the "shame of Italy": people living in these primitive … Continue reading 57. Matera Immaginata
I love my Christmas tree. Every ornament has great sentimental value to me. Some date back to 1952, when my mother, celebrating her first Christmas (with me!) in Somerset, Massachusetts, ordered them from the Sears Roebuck catalogue. Others signify political leanings, or depict my children at various ages, or identify me as a dog lover. … Continue reading 56. Ornamenti
It was puzzling enough when my cousin posted a Facebook photo of her granddaughter dressed as a "vampiretta" for Halloween. As far as I knew, Italians made a big deal of All Souls Day, November 2, getting together with family and visiting the cemeteries where their loved ones are buried. Italian cemeteries, by the way, … Continue reading 55. Black Friday?
For my 66th birthday yesterday, I chose to go to Sorbillo for lunch, the Manhattan outpost of my daughter Maria's favorite pizzeria in Naples. And authentic it was, with Italian-speaking staff and customers, and a pizzaiolo whose only words to us were "No speak English." It is hard to imagine a time when pizza was … Continue reading 54. Mr. Pizza
I was stunned to read in the New York Times that in the town of Lodi, Italy, children who are no longer eligible for lunch subsidies because of new draconian rules, and therefore had to bring a lunch from home, have been barred from eating in the lunchroom with their classmates. The new regulations and … Continue reading 53. Lunchtime
Every ten years, we have a fight about the census. Who and what should be counted, and how should it be done? For most of us, it is of passing interest: clearly important in theory, but not so much on a personal level. Yet the census can provide us with all sorts of very granular … Continue reading 52. The Melting Pot
For my daughter Maria's birthday dinner, we went to Bamonte, an old-school restaurant in the former Italian neighborhood of Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Open since 1900, it is the primo of Italian-American cuisine, what would be called a "gravy restaurant" in Philadelphia. On offer was every item one might expect at an American Italian restaurant, ranging from … Continue reading 51. Comfort Food
Gigi's Italia 