This made me smile. Thank you! I am from an Italian family in northern NJ. My father and his family immigrated to the US when he was in his late teens. When I went to college - University of Richmond - my mom would send me with frozen gravy. My southern friends from Tennessee and Louisiana laughed when I called it "gravy." We went to my grandparents' house every Sunday - all of the aunts, uncles, and cousins. I was always too thin...mangia, mangia! My grandmother would say...
This warmed my heart! I could hear the love for your family in your writing—and the sense of being "home." It also made me remember the precious age of 13 and learning about death when my grandpa died. I'm sure you share many stories with your kids, but things get forgotten. It's good to put them in writing to make sure they're not lost. I think sharing family stories is good too. People enjoy reading them and remembering their own experiences. And it may even inspire them to write their own stories. That's how I became interested in writing, by reading stories like this.
Looking forward to reading more! Thank you, Kathleen for sharing <3
I love this! Though I'm not Italian, it reminded me of my own childhood as well. Also - yay for those fabulous aunts and those tropical vacations!! :) I hope you write and share more. You are a great writer!
You've inspired me to write about my family (Polish). In our family, people only dared to marry Irish until a cousin married an Italian. It was the talk of the family when he came for Thanksgiving and told us he had to save room for his Nonny's homemade gnocchi. Gnocchi on Thanksgiving? We were shocked. Of course we have pierogi at every holiday and kielbasi and halupki at most!
Brava, Kathleen! So much of this made me think of my own Italian family! We went to Italy for my bisnonna's 100th bithday when I was about twelve, and I remember she kept saying things to me in Italian and I just kept nodding and saying 'grazie' because I couldn't understand!
This is a great piece of writing, but as a first generation Italian (I moved abroad at 27) I must say this is not at all my experience of family dynamics in Italy.
2 caveats here: Italy is not really a homogeneous country. It's a mixture of oddly different cultures that don't really make sense one next to the other. I'm from Umbria, close to Rome, and Sicilians are as foreign to me as Norwegians.
Second caveat: being an immigrant myself, I can see how Italian dynamics can evolve in what you described in this beautiful essay after a couple of generations. Many Italians miss Italy deep in their bones, and it's easy to see how this feeling can be transmitted to younger generations.
I have a daughter now, her passport is British, but I'm glad I could read this report of what being Italian can mean.
How could anyone be nasty to you with such a delightful story? What an insight into the way other people live, and consequently, "do death". Best of all, the accidental laughing at the funeral!
Well, as the author of the historical novel The Italian Prisoner, set in New Orleans' Sicilian community during WW2 (pardon the shameless self-promotion), I applaud this illuminating essay! Auguri!
Schmidt, I miss you and my book world friends. But, yes, you nailed it. Especially the yes and no at the beginning. Many times I had to explain to my non Italian wife that I wasn't enamored by the Godfather and the Sopranos because I liked, or that my family was involved, with organized crime. It was because of the wedding scene in the Godfather. Or that the very first episode of the Sopranos Carmella offers Meadow a sfogliatella for breakfast. And yes, as the only boy with 2 sisters, I was the chosen one. But that changed when my sister provided the real chosen ones, Grandchildren. And I didn't.
I will share a very loose recipe that I use—it’s from memory: 2 cans Italian whole tomatoes (canned). 1 can tomato paste. Salt & sugar to taste. Chopped garlic to taste. Splash of olive oil in a pot, then add garlic. Sautée for a minute or two. Add tomatoes and tomato paste, use a wooden spoon to manually crush the tomatoes. Heat should be medium as you do this. Add tomato paste. Stir everything together, add sugar and salt to balance acidity. Add a splash of red wine if you want. Once it’s hot, turn heat on the lowest setting. I add meatballs, but you don’t have to. Let it simmer an hour or so before serving with pasta.
Love this detail: “no television unless competitive figure skating was on” 😂 My Nana (dad’s mother) was Italian and I recognize soooooo much of our family dynamic in here. Fun read!
This made me smile. Thank you! I am from an Italian family in northern NJ. My father and his family immigrated to the US when he was in his late teens. When I went to college - University of Richmond - my mom would send me with frozen gravy. My southern friends from Tennessee and Louisiana laughed when I called it "gravy." We went to my grandparents' house every Sunday - all of the aunts, uncles, and cousins. I was always too thin...mangia, mangia! My grandmother would say...
After reading this, all I can say is: more!
And one more: brava. :)
This warmed my heart! I could hear the love for your family in your writing—and the sense of being "home." It also made me remember the precious age of 13 and learning about death when my grandpa died. I'm sure you share many stories with your kids, but things get forgotten. It's good to put them in writing to make sure they're not lost. I think sharing family stories is good too. People enjoy reading them and remembering their own experiences. And it may even inspire them to write their own stories. That's how I became interested in writing, by reading stories like this.
Looking forward to reading more! Thank you, Kathleen for sharing <3
I love this! Though I'm not Italian, it reminded me of my own childhood as well. Also - yay for those fabulous aunts and those tropical vacations!! :) I hope you write and share more. You are a great writer!
You've inspired me to write about my family (Polish). In our family, people only dared to marry Irish until a cousin married an Italian. It was the talk of the family when he came for Thanksgiving and told us he had to save room for his Nonny's homemade gnocchi. Gnocchi on Thanksgiving? We were shocked. Of course we have pierogi at every holiday and kielbasi and halupki at most!
Brava, Kathleen! So much of this made me think of my own Italian family! We went to Italy for my bisnonna's 100th bithday when I was about twelve, and I remember she kept saying things to me in Italian and I just kept nodding and saying 'grazie' because I couldn't understand!
Enlightening. Gives me a new perspective on the Italian side of our family.
This is a great piece of writing, but as a first generation Italian (I moved abroad at 27) I must say this is not at all my experience of family dynamics in Italy.
2 caveats here: Italy is not really a homogeneous country. It's a mixture of oddly different cultures that don't really make sense one next to the other. I'm from Umbria, close to Rome, and Sicilians are as foreign to me as Norwegians.
Second caveat: being an immigrant myself, I can see how Italian dynamics can evolve in what you described in this beautiful essay after a couple of generations. Many Italians miss Italy deep in their bones, and it's easy to see how this feeling can be transmitted to younger generations.
I have a daughter now, her passport is British, but I'm glad I could read this report of what being Italian can mean.
How could anyone be nasty to you with such a delightful story? What an insight into the way other people live, and consequently, "do death". Best of all, the accidental laughing at the funeral!
I loved reading this! 😊
Oh and Pavarotti! He was up there with the Pope.
I married a boy from NJ whose parents were both born in Sicily and raised in NY. The food was AH-mazing! All the time.
Well, as the author of the historical novel The Italian Prisoner, set in New Orleans' Sicilian community during WW2 (pardon the shameless self-promotion), I applaud this illuminating essay! Auguri!
Schmidt, I miss you and my book world friends. But, yes, you nailed it. Especially the yes and no at the beginning. Many times I had to explain to my non Italian wife that I wasn't enamored by the Godfather and the Sopranos because I liked, or that my family was involved, with organized crime. It was because of the wedding scene in the Godfather. Or that the very first episode of the Sopranos Carmella offers Meadow a sfogliatella for breakfast. And yes, as the only boy with 2 sisters, I was the chosen one. But that changed when my sister provided the real chosen ones, Grandchildren. And I didn't.
sfogliatella is MY FAVE.
Great family story … thank you, Kathleen! Do you have your family’s gravy recipe? If so, would you be willing to share it? 😋
I will share a very loose recipe that I use—it’s from memory: 2 cans Italian whole tomatoes (canned). 1 can tomato paste. Salt & sugar to taste. Chopped garlic to taste. Splash of olive oil in a pot, then add garlic. Sautée for a minute or two. Add tomatoes and tomato paste, use a wooden spoon to manually crush the tomatoes. Heat should be medium as you do this. Add tomato paste. Stir everything together, add sugar and salt to balance acidity. Add a splash of red wine if you want. Once it’s hot, turn heat on the lowest setting. I add meatballs, but you don’t have to. Let it simmer an hour or so before serving with pasta.
Thanks, Kathleen! ❤️
NOT SUGAR!! LOL
Love this detail: “no television unless competitive figure skating was on” 😂 My Nana (dad’s mother) was Italian and I recognize soooooo much of our family dynamic in here. Fun read!