We Gather Together…
A Call for Comments
November 18th, 2007
A lot of you will be traveling this week. As you sit in airline terminals and wait in bumper-to-bumper traffic, whatever you do to get to Nonna’s house, please jot down a few questions for your family. I’m asking you to do this in the hope that I can fill in some gaps in my own family’s culinary history.
My Sicilian grandfather was only fourteen years old, his brothers and sister not yet teenagers, when they arrived at Ellis Island in 1904. They all became fluent English speakers while continuing to speak, read, and write in Sicilian dialect, even though they were mere children when they left the society in which Sicilian had been their only language.
One question I have is how their acquisition of Sicilian continued to the sophisticated level required for their professional careers.
My maternal great-grandparents had had little formal schooling, but their boys were lucky enough to go to good schools and continue their educations—but only in English. One graduated from West Point, another became a physician, another had his own insurance agency.
How they kept and polished their Sicilian is a mystery to me. And they did indeed keep their Sicilian. Well into their careers, they served a largely immigrant population in Middletown, Connecticut. It’s a particular mystery to me how my great uncle explained—in polished Sicilian diaect—appendicitis or gall bladder disease to semi-literate Sicilian patients during the Depression, let alone discuss their treatment options.
And it’s just as much a puzzle as to how my grandfather, the son of a cobbler, came to learn his repertoire of Sicilian recipes. Cultural codes back in Sicily certainly would have kept a young boy out of the kitchen in 1904, and once in America, he went away to a church-run boarding school. Yet somewhere, somehow, he did learn to cook the traditional dishes, to the extent that he taught them to his own wife, my grandmother. I just don’t know when he learned them or from whom. But surely, my family’s case is not unique.
I’d love to hear stories and speculation on this from other Italian-Americans. Alas, I’ve no one left in my own family to interview.
It’s easy enough to ascertain how certain traditional Italian recipes morphed into Italian-American dishes; that’s what the Almost Italian project is about. But how did the original recipes arrive intact? We need to ask how they made the trip from Italy to America in the first place, especially since we already know that many of the immigrants were so poor in Italy they couldn’t have afforded to cook them back home.
So start making YOUR lists. The questions you pose could prove to be lifesavers during those awkward Thanksgiving moments when talk turns to Hillary Clinton, ethanol, or immigration reform. When your aunt starts asking about your little nose-ring or latest tattoo, or someone has just spilled an especially dark Zinfandel on the lace tablecloth, you’ll be glad you can divert everyone’s attention with:
So, do you think Zio Beppo’s sausages, the ones he cured in the trunk of his ’68 Impala, were more Calabrese or Abruzzese?
When did Dad start making “‘Mom’s’ Sunday Gravy?” Whose mom was it anyway?
Is it true that cousin Tony sold his sister’s collection of Mass cards on Ebay?
When it comes to family history, there are many truths…share some of yours, right here, on Almost Italian.
My editor Holly, and I wish you a very happy Giorno di Ringraziamento, Happy Thanksgiving.
Tag: Almost Italian, Italian food, Italian immigrants
November 18th, 2007 at 5:17 pm
The fact that your grandparents are no longer available for comment shouldn’t stop you from finding answers to your questions! There are still many first- and second-generation Italian immigrants who could help you find answers to these questions.
Here are some of my thoughts:
As someone who was bilingual as a child, I honestly barely noticed the second language I was speaking. My parents moved easily back and forth between languages in the home and I learned to do likewise without even thinking about it. Not only do children have an amazing capacity for languages, but languages learned at a young age are more easily retained; the language I learned as a child (Spanish) is one I haven’t spoken for decades, but when a Spanish-only situation is thrust upon me, it all comes back after a few minutes. What say ye, fellow bi- and tri-linguals?? Was this the case for you? (added bonus: because I was bilingual as a child, the next languages I learned were a piece of cake because I was so accustomed to speaking in a tongue other than my own)
As for your question about Italian cuisine, I wonder at your statement “Cultural codes back in Sicily certainly would have kept a young boy out of the kitchen in 1904.” Was this really the case? In my time in southern Italy I saw young children at their mother’s feet most of the day; small boys setting the table or helping Mamma grind the tomatoes. I don’t think I saw any overly-masculine “Kitchen work isn’t for men” attitudes until adolescence. Even then, when Mamma needs help, a good young man helps, period. But was this the case in 1900′s Sicily? Ci dite voi, Siciliani!
In any event, I would like to know if, like you said, “many of the immigrants were so poor in Italy they couldn’t have afforded to cook [these recipes] back home.” My understanding of southern Italian history is that they lived off the land, growing their own tomatoes, basil, garlic, and olives for oil. If it wasn’t in their garden, they bartered with those who had it. I learned that there were an abundance of grains, capers, peppers, sardines, oils, and fruits in 19th Century Sicily. This is why Sicily was constantly attacked by outside forces in earlier centuries, and why the resulting Mafia was formed to protect locals from those who would rob Sicilians of the profits from their abundant and Eden-like produce (have you evern been their and tasted those gigantic, candy-sweet oranges? Mamma mia!). The Sicilian bounties only failed to earn a good living when industrial-era factory competition, a bad economy, or corrupt politicians hurt Sicilians’ chances for profit and encouraged them to seek their fortunes elsewhere. If I am wrong, someone please tell me–but my understanding is that they DID cook these meals, and often!
Still, I’d love to hear what others have to say . . . .
December 22nd, 2007 at 3:00 am
I’m second generation, and was taught to favor all things American except for the food.
Most morphed Italian American food is confusing and not familiar to me. And doesn’t taste so great.
The small repertoire of my family’s recipes was based on seasonal foods, made for holidays and for everyday. The lifestyle and the recipes were twinned according to the calendar and the seasons, and cooked and taught by memory from adult immigrants.
The men had a strong tradition of cooking, especially because they usually were the gardeners. I remember a lot of families had second stoves in their basements where the men hung out and cooked peasant dishes like eggs in a pan dropped over hot leftover plain pasta. Some of these recipes came over directly from those dishes they had made together as a group of workers for their lunch table.
We did not eat much meat except for occasional salami, homemade sausage and cold cuts. Pasta was bread. Cheese was used sparingly. Polenta, soups, and fruit, and fresh vegetables were plenty. Egg dishes were considered treats too, like a frittata. Cookies and cakes were usually anise or almond flavored. Bread was focaccia, or pizza, or egg dough for special. Pizzagaina broke Lent. Pannetone and Torrone were Christmas Treats. Christmas Eve dinner was the Feast of the Seven Fishes. Manicotti was made from crepes, factory style in an all woman kitchen party for a celebration event.
My relatives often exchanged choice hard-to-find ingredients by mail from cities like San Francisco and New York.
Alot of the specialty foods died out with the older folk who made them, and who often jealously guarded the recipe and the task.
I now eat along the traditional lines, in what in America might be called a lacto-ovo-vegetarian.
Two of the most important things I learned is to eat seasonally, and to make something to eat out of every little last scrap of the food. (And my hand is a reliable measuring spoon that passes the test every time.)
December 22nd, 2007 at 5:08 pm
Thanks, Grace, for your comments. You’ve really touched a chord with your last sentence.
Before we moved to Sarasota, I knew a group of ladies “of a certain age” in Westerly, RI, who got together on a weekend during December every year to make a traditional Calabrese sopressatta they called “soupy.”
But occasionally, they needed to reschedule because one of the ladies couldn’t make it on a particular day. She was the one in the group the rest of the ladies relied on to use her hands as a measure for the salt and seasonings.
Buon Natale,
Skip
February 27th, 2009 at 9:54 pm
Hello,I think we as Italian Americans should carry on any traditions we have learned from our families.I have a great recipe for Sopressatta from Calabria, We make it every year.If anyone is interested email me at franise87 AT aol DOT com
Frank Balestri