LIFE; Puglia Memories

CHIAVARI, Italy – Before I moved back to Liguria, Tatiana brought me a catalog from an exhibit of photographs her father, Uliano Lucas, had in Bari a couple of years ago. Uliano Lucus is a well known Italian photojournalist who made his name working as a free lance photographer back in the years the Italians call, the years of lead, gli anni di piombo. The collection of black and white photos in the exhibit were part of his collection of photos taken in Puglia over the past 30 years. 

We have that connection, Tatiana and I. She knows I love photographs, especially black and white photographs, and the first time she came to my apartment she was both delighted and surprised to see black and white photos hanging on my walls.

“Oh, it’s just like in all the American films,” she said. It should be noted I am the first American she and her husband Andrea ever met, and she wasn’t quite sure what she was going to find in the apartment of the ‘Americana’. Italians watch so many American movies their brains are full of American images they have never seen in person, so it’s always a surprise when they come face to face with the real deal and have that flash of recognition. 

Italians don’t hang photographs on their walls, not unless they are photographs of their parents or their wedding or their children and grandchildren. Even then those photographs are usually confined to the bedrooms, hallways or entryways. In their living rooms they prefer paintings. Landscapes are good but big portraits of relatives are better. And the more the merrier. Of everything. 

The first time I saw my apartment in Milan, the previous tenants were still living there. There was so much big heavy furniture and so many paintings and portraits of men with beards hanging on the walls I was visually overwhelmed. It wasn’t until I moved in that I realized the woodwork and doors had all been painted lavender, and there were in fact, two bathrooms.  

I understand that my decorating style is a bit too sparse for the Italians. Too minimalistic. And horrors of horrors, I don’t have heavy drapes and curtains on my living room or dining room windows, or on any of my windows or balcony doors for that matter. I don’t even pull the tapperelle down at night – the tapperelle being those heavy, shutters that pull down over windows and doors much like a garage door does. They block out every smidgeon of light and air and it’s obvious they were originally designed for a torture chamber. The Italians are very polite about my lack of caution, but I can tell they think I’m a bit daft. Is it possible I don’t know the gypsies are watching - and waiting - for just the right moment to scale the building and rob me blind? Apparently not. 

After Italian journalist Beppe Severgnini spent a few years in Washington, DC he wrote about his experiences in a book called ‘An Italian in America’. He talks about not being able to relax in the living room of his rented house in Georgetown because there were no tapperelle on the windows to pull down. Actually there were no blinds or shutters even worthy of the name, and the curtains, all sheer and gossamer, served no purpose other than decoration. He was completely horrified at the thought of people walking by, being able to look in the windows and see him sitting on his sofa watching TV. 

Roba da matti, as they say. It was just crazy. Not that he ever saw anyone actually looking in his windows but, well you know, it’s the idea of the thing. And as for being able to sleep without the total black out and prison-like atmosphere those horizontal slats of the tapperelle on the windows provide, well he never did adjust to that. Apparently he didn’t get a good night’s sleep until he got back to Italy.

There are always adjustments to be made when you live in a foreign country, but truth be known after twenty plus years of living in Italy my list is shrinking. Nonetheless Tatiana made me promise that her father’s photographs would not end up on my walls, torn from the catalog and hung in some springtime redecorating frenzy. It’s proving to be a lot harder a promise to keep than it was to make. But I am trying.

The Puglia photographs are particularly interesting to me. I’ve only been to Puglia once, to Bari and Lecce, and I loved everything about it. Maybe because what I found and what I thought I was going to find, were so completely different - much like Tatiana's first reaction to an encounter with a real, in the flesh American.

My ideas of Puglia, much like Tatiana's ideas of America, were formed long before I ever saw it, back when I still lived in Philadelphia. They came from my first Italian teacher, a nice woman from Bari who always talked about her city as if it was a mile and half from hell. For years I carried around the idea that Bari was dirty and dangerous, and a place to avoid at all costs. And then, much to my chagrin, I was sent there to work on a project for the Italian Ministry of Culture and Tourism.

As it turned out, Bari was nothing at all like the city she had described. In fact it was exactly the opposite. When I mentioned how nice the city was to a taxi driver, she just smiled and said, “yes it is, isn’t it.”  And as for Lecce, what I found was a city of such extraordinary architecture and beauty that I was completely blown away.

Even though the photos of Puglia in Uliano Lucas’ catalog are gritty and raw, and taken long before I moved to Italy, they still bring back memories of my experience there. And that’s exactly what photographs should do: grab a moment and hold it still so we can go back and experience it time and time again. So while it is difficult not to frame those Puglia pictures and look at them every day, a promise is a promise. And I promised.

Photos: Uliano Lucas

AUNTIE PASTA: Scrippelles

CHIAVARI, Italy – Scrippelles are a typical food of Teramo, a small town in Abruzzo.  If you have never heard of them, you are not alone. I had never heard of them either until a week or so ago when Debra Cardelli Cellucci of Philadelphia Pa. talked about them on an Italian-American facebook page I follow.

Teramo, Abruzzo Italy

Scrippelle are very thin pancakes made from flour, eggs and water. If you are thinking that’s the same recipe for crepes, you are right. They are one and the same. In fact, there is a real French connection to this dish according to an article published in a local Abruzzese magazine called The Abruzzo Enogastronomica, but more about that later.

The real difference between them, is the way they are served. In Abruzzo scrippelles are served m’busse, which means in chicken broth. The basic idea is to first prepare a thin batter . . . but wait a minute, I think it’s better if Debra tells you herself. Here is her recipe from the Facebook page:

 Scrippelle M'busso

Debra’s Scrippelle M’Busso Recipe

12 eggs, 3 cups of water, 1 cup of flour in a large mixing bowl. Beat eggs, add water, slowly add flour while constantly mixing. Use a good crepe pan. Depending on the size of the pan you may want to cut them in half after rolling. Heat pan to medium to high heat, then lightly grease the pan with either fat back or olive oil.

I use a 10” crepe pan and add about half a soup ladle of batter and roll it around quickly so it spreads evenly.  It should be very thin. Lift the edges of the crepe and when the edges start to curl pick it up quickly and turn it over. It only takes about a minute or less on each side. Let each one cool for a minute or two before stacking them on top of each other.  1 dozen eggs makes about 40 10” crepes. They can be cut in half to double that to 80.

After they are cooked mix grated pecorino cheese with black pepper to your taste. Take each crepe and sprinkle with a good amount of the cheese/pepper mix, and tightly roll the crepe. Cut them in half and stack them close to each other in a casserole dish or plastic container if you are going to freeze them. When you are ready to serve, let them come to room temperature. Place them in individual soup bowls and pour your favorite chicken soup over them.

 Timballo di Teramo

And that, according to Debra, is all there is to it. In researching this dish, I found that some cooks like to roll the scrippelle tightly and then slice them into ribbons, like fettucine and then serve them with soup. They are also used to make another delicious local dish called Timballo di Teramana.

This timballo is made in layers, like lasagna, but instead of pasta locals use scrippelle. And there is one other small difference, this timballo is made in a casserole dish rather than a lasagna pan. Using an oven proof casserole dish, first put in a few spoons of sauce.  The sauce can be a while béchamel sauce with fried artichokes (spinach or peas works well too), and scamorza cheese. Or, you can use your favorite red tomato sauce. Alternate a layer of scrippelle with a layer of sauce. The top layer should be sauce sprinkled with a good grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese.

It all starts like this

In the Italian recipe it says to preheat your oven to 320 degrees F/160 degrees C and bake for about an hour until the flavors blend together and a slight crust forms on the top. You can probably get the same results with a 350 degree F/ 175 degree C oven and a cooking time of 25-30 minutes. What’s important is that the ingredients heat through and the sauce and the cheese are bubbling.

As for the French connection, the story goes back to the 16^th century when the French ruled Abruzzo.  It seems the French chef in charge of the officers' mess in the town of Teramo, used to serve his officers crepes instead of bread. He though they were more ‘attractive’ than the dark coarse breads that were common at that time. As it happened, one day when Messer Enrico Castorani, the chef’s helper, was moving a heaping plate of crepes, they fell into the soup pot that was filled with hot chicken soup. 

The chef didn’t know what to do. He decided to serve the crepes and the soup, and when he tasted the crepes in the soup, he found that it was a most delicious combination, and that is how scrippelle in broth was created. 

I liked to give a special thanks to Debra Cardelli Cellucci for sharing her recipe with me, and allowing me to share it with all of you. Thanks Debra.

LIFE: This Country Called America

CHIAVARI, Italy - "God Bless America", my grandmother used to say. My grandfather used to say something else about America. She was thrilled to be there, and he, well that's another story. My grandparents were just two of the two million Italians who immigrated to the United States at the beginning of the 1900’s. 

 Taken when America was still a dream

My grandmother was fiercely proud of her heritage. She loved Italy; she loved everything about it, the food, the traditions, the closeness of her family. She just didn't want to live there, and mostly she did not want to raise her children there. She was not alone.

Between 1870 and 1920, close to 5 million Italians boarded steamships for America. Only Germany matched that exodus - one of the largest immigrations in modern history. Whole towns in Southern Italy, and some of the poorest areas of the Veneto and Tuscany, were emptied as people jumped at the opportunity for a better life. And yes, maybe even riches. In all fairness my Grandmother and her family were not starving, it was just that she saw America's open immigration policy as a once in a lifetime opportunity not only for her children, but for herself and my Grandfather as well.

The town they left behind, Piansano (VT)

My Grandfather was a furniture maker, but in the impoverished province of Lazio, there was little money for furniture. To supplement the family income he had turned to making wine barrels and was managing to make ends meet, but barely.

And then one day a stranger came to town with an offer my Grandmother couldn’t refuse. The stranger was an agent. His job was to travel throughout Italy spreading the golden image of America, rich and generous, democratic and open, a country with endless possibilities for success. And best of all the company the agent worked for would take care of the paperwork. It was an irresistible combination: yes, the agents were salesmen for the steam ship companies but the product they were selling was good. 

The cars may be newer, but little else has changed

So my Grandmother made a plan. My Grandfather, and her brother, Joe Bronzetti, would go to America first. They would get jobs – which according to the agent there were plenty of -  earn money, buy a house and then send second class steamer tickets for her, my father and my Aunt Louise, who was just a baby. My Grandmother really wanted to go to America but not in steerage. I don’t know how much resistance there was to her idea, all I know is that on Feb 18. 1913 my Grandfather, and his brother-in-law Joe   were walking around in that land called America.  

As soon as they stepped off the boat in New York the two men were offered work. The Pennsylvania Railroad was being built and the railroad company needed men to lay railroad tracks. So my Grandfather and Uncle Joe signed on. The company offered to provide food and inexpensive shelter along the way, the cost of which would be deducted from their pay. When the project was completed they would get the money they had earned, less their expenses.  

 So near and yet so far

You probably already know the end of the story. When the project was completed, there was no money. The paymaster had skipped town and taken the payroll with him. They were destitute. My Grandfather and Uncle Joe had heard from other Italians they had met while working on the railroad that some families from the province of Lazio had settled in upstate New York, in a town called Siracusa. Their only hope was to try to get to Syracuse and meet up with their piasani.

Stranded in a foreign country, and unable to speak English, the two men left Reading, Pennsylvania and began walking north. To survive the 233 mile journey they were forced to beg for food and shelter along the way. Anti-Italian newspaper articles published at the time claimed that Italian immigrants, especially those from Southern Italy, seemed to beg for the pure pleasure of begging. Obviously they never met my Grandfather and Joe.

Finally, free to go

When the two men got to Syracuse they found work, got settled and bought a house. A year later, on April 14, 1915, my Grandmother, my father and my Aunt Louise boarded a ship bound for America. Uncle Joe went on to own a string of bars, and I doubt there is an old timer in Syracuse who doesn’t recall with nostalgia hanging out in Joe’s Bar and Grill on Lodi Street, including yours truly.  

In few other countries in the world have the Italians had as much success as those who went to America. The children, grandchildren and great grandchildren  of the factory workers, masons, laborers, and waiters who landed on Ellis Island in the early 1900’s have gone on to become senators and governors, lawyers, doctors, engineers and managers, and yes even journalists. With their sweat and tears they built America. They are the embodiment of the American dream. 

 Many Italians settled in New York's Lower East side

It was not easy being Italian in those days and our forefathers had to jump through a lot of hoops in order to survive. Many changed their name to make their lives easier. When I was growing up we lived next to the Bond family. Their name wasn't really Bond, it was Bonacci. And I always loved my cousin Jimmy’s favorite story about his friend Mario who changed the name of his auto mechanic shop to sound more American. Instead of  Mario Bianco's, he renamed it Mario White's. 

What brought on this wave of nostalgia is the Columbus Day celebrations that will take place across America tomorrow. On October 14 thousands of us, the descendants of those who sacrificed and suffered to get to America, will celebrate Columbus' discovery. It's an important day for Italian-American because with this celebration, we can show our pride in being Italian, and we have a lot to be proud of.

As I remember them

There are now between 25-50 million Italians in America. Three million just in the metropolitan New York area, 5 million in the Tri-State area of New York, New Jersey and Connecticut. According to a study by the Angelli Foundation, the average income of Italians in America is now 25% higher than that of the average American. Imagine that. The population that was once looked down on, laughed at and called gangsters and beggars has become 25% richer than the average American. Who’s laughing now? 

On a trip back to the United States a few years ago, I spoke with a number of Italian-Americans. Many of them had never visited Italy and they were interested in hearing about life in Italy today. In talking to them I heard a curiosity about the land their families left more than a hundred years ago. It was nice. It was also a major factor in my decision to start this blog. What’s also nice are all the Italian-American Facebook pages where people just like me can celebrate their Italianness every day, and keep alive the customs and traditions their grandparents and parents brought with them in their search for a better life in this country called America. Happy Columbus Day.

 photos: Ellis Island web site.

AUNTIE PASTA: Amerigo is Beautiful

CHIAVARI, Italy – This is a story about food, but it’s not your normal kind of food story. It’s about the food service on one of Italy’s most famous ships; the Italian Navy’s training ship, the Amerigo Vespucci. The ship, which is named after the famous explorer who gave his name to America, has been in service with the Italian Navy since 1931 and often takes part in sailing parades and Tall Ships’ races.

 The Amerigo Vespucci

The ship’s Captain, Curzio Pacifici and his crew of 17 officers, 70 non-commissioned officers and 200 sailors and cadets of the Italian Naval Academy have sailed into ports all around the world. And good sailor that he is, Captain Pacifici throws a party at every port he sails into.

Some of the on-board parties are as elegant as dining at the Ritz, while others are as informal as a Texas barbeque. If you are lucky enough to be invited to sit at Captain Pacifici’s table, you’ll be served by a sailor in a starched white jacket and white gloves. You’ll be offered your choice of two starters, two first plates and three main courses, one of which will be a fish dish, plus vegetables, fruit and desert. And who can refuse a drink up on deck with the Captain after dinner. Throw in a full moon, a handful of sparkling stars and you'll think you have landed in a scene from the James Bond classic, Diamonds are Forever.

 Party Time on the Amerigo Vespucci

But life on board ship is not all gold trimmed dishes, damask tablecloths and strolls along the deck in the moonlight, especially for the young sailors who keep the bread cupboard filled and the stew pots bubbling. Life aboard ship goes on 24 hours a day which means sailors work in shifts and the kitchen has to put out food, even at midnight.

The chefs are all graduates of prestigious Italian hotel schools. After their culinary training period they can stay onboard, working in the ship’s kitchen for five years. It is probably one of the most difficult jobs on board. Not only is the kitchen small and cramped, but when the ship is in port and the rest of the crew gets time off, the kitchen crew works double time. With visiting dignitaries to entertain, cocktail parties and dinner parties to host, there’s no time to play.

 

 At Your Service

For seven months of the year about 500 people eat, sleep and live on this three mast full rigged sailing ship. Their day is organized around meal times: when the ship is in port breakfast is served from 7 to 8, lunch at 1 and dinner at 7:30. When the ship is at sea and operating 24 hours a day, meals are served twice in a 24 hour period.  Life on-board is kept as normal as possible and even at midnight, when one crew goes off duty and the night crew is about to start its shift, the cooks are in front of the ovens pulling out pizzas for those who might want a little something to eat. Just like mama.

Like the other parts of the ship the kitchen routine must be carefully controlled, especially when the ship is out on the sea. It would create serious problems to run out of flour, water, meat and pasta when the ship is far from shore sailing the ocean blue. But it isn’t enough to just stock up on these staples; the chefs must  offer balanced and varied meals. These sailors wouldn't dream of eating hard, wormy biscuits, or whatever rats they might catch like the sailors did who traveled on ships much like this one during the 1500’s.

 Capitano Pacifici

As the Amerigo Vespucci prepares to leave for a long journey, tons of non-perishable foods and high quality foods like Parmigiano Reggiano and San Daniele prosciutto are brought on board. Then at each stop, hundreds of kilos fresh fruit, vegetables, eggs and milk, are restocked. The shopping list usually includes 300 kilos/660 pounds gnocchi and 150 kilos /330 pounds of tortellini. Non-perishables, like wine, cans of tomatoes, pasta and frozen foods are restocked every month.

It takes a lot of food to run the ship. 500 meals are served each day, plus breakfast. This number swells to 900 during the summer months when there are more people onboard. To prepare buffets for up to 250-300 guests, five types of antipasti, four types of first dishes, four main dishes plus salads, vegetables and of course, spectacular deserts must be made. Sit down dinners honoring guests like the Commander in Chief of the Italian Fleet, Vice Admiral De Giorgi and the the Chief of the Italian Navy, Admiral Mantelli, are even more complicated as guests order from menus.   

The Commander in Chief of the Italian Fleet, Vice Admiral Giuseppe De Giorgi and the Chief of the Italian Navy, Admiral Luigi Binelli Mantelli  

Even though the ship is large there is limited storage space. Food and drinks are stored in out-of-the-way areas under the stairs and deep in the bowels of the ship. There are two storage sections for dry food and two groups of refrigerator/freezers for fresh and frozen foods. All the food to be prepared for parties big and small must be brought up the steep and narrow stairs. When the sea is choppy and the ship is bobbing and dipping on the waves you can well imagine the challenge of carrying trays of jiggly panna cotta while trying to keep your balance as you squeeze up the narrow stairwells.

To give you an idea of the kind of food served on the Amerigo Vespucci, here’s their recipe for Penne alla Nostromo, named after Joseph Conrad’s 1904 novel  ‘Nostromo’.

 

 Penne alla Nostromo

" Penne alla Nostromo " (for 4 people)

Ingredients: ½ cup olive oil,  2 cloves garlic, a handful of chopped parsley, a handful of black olives, a handful of capers,  5 sardine filets, 100 grams (1/4 lb.) fillet of swordfish, oregano, 5 fresh large cherry tomatoes (like Picadilly), 1 glass of dry white wine

Preparation: Pour olive oil into a pan, add two cloves of minced garlic. Sauté the garlic and then add the swordfish fillet which has been cut into matchstick. Sauté well and deglaze with white wine. Allow the wine to evaporate, then add the black olives and capers . Then put in the diced the fresh tomatoes.

Finally, add the oregano and the sardine filets, or you can substitute 1 can of Italian tuna fish packed in olive oil well drained for the swordfish fillets and sardines.  Cook the pasta al dente, drain and add to sauce and allow to cook together for a few minutes then sprinkle with parsley and serve. Please resist the urge to add Parmigiano or any type of cheese, grated or otherwise.