Friday, November 9, 2012

It's Tombola Time!


Family playing tombola
 Every year Laura invites us over to her house to celebrate New Year's Eve. A typical Italian, she is happiest when her kitchen is over-flowing with friends and family.  It doesn't matter that she runs a big research lab at University Hospital while raising two teenaged children, always worried about grants, zipping all over the world for conferences. She doesn't flip out if the wine glasses don't match.  Paper plates work fine.  Everybody brings something. She's the kind of hostess I've always wanted to be, one who enjoys her own parties and can't wait to coordinate the next get-together.

The key to Laura's success is her strict adherence to tradition, which is probably the single biggest contributing factor to Italian survival over centuries of foreign invasion, that innate, stubborn refusal to even consider the possibility that the show will not go on exactly the same way it has always has, no matter what.

Guests arrive between 9 and 10pm.
The same group of international misfits is invited every year. Joanna from Finland, Jens from Germany.  A couple of Americans like me thrown in to be polite. Everybody with kids in tow.
Laura bakes two trays of homemade focaccia, one with onions, a second with olives.
And she always cooks a big pot of lentil soup, because if you eat lentils on New Years Eve you will be lucky with money in the coming year.
A couple from Tennessee stops for a big order of carry-out barbeque on the way back from their parent's.
After dinner we all write our New Year's wishes on a piece of paper, fold it over so no one can see, and burn them in the fireplace.
And then we play tombola.

Tombola main board

Everything is fun.  But it's the tombola we look forward to more than anything else from year to year.

Which is funny, because it's just the Italian version of Bingo.  Nothing fancy or electronic.  But it's when the kids come in from the family room and the parents get up from the dining room table and we all take a seat together in the living room that the party really begins.  The teenagers always clump together around the couch, perched on the arms and the coffee table.  Michele calls the numbers, first in Italian, then English.  Laura's son, Alexandros, helps.  We use beans and bottle caps as covers.  There's the normal complaining.  "This card is terrible."  "I haven't got a thing."  But pretty soon somebody covers two in a row and yells, "Ambo."  After Michele checks their numbers, the winner walks to the front of the room , kind of embarrassed by the attention, but pleased to be a winner, while everybody whistles and makes noise.    Laura's husband, George (he's Greek) usually shops for all the prizes at the Dollar Store that morning and hands out one of the "Ambo" bags from the hearth.  We watch as the person returns to their seat, opens the bag, and holds up a pencil sharpener or little stuffed bear. "Terno" is three numbers, "Quaterna," four, and "Cinquina" is five.  "Tombola," the grand prize winner, is when the most lucky person of all covers all the numbers on their card.  It takes over an hour to play one game.

This is the way they do it in Italy every year, every generation since the game was invented in Napoli in 1734. When we are in Italy for the holidays and go next door to call Don Peppino and Signora Anna, the couple who moved in the same year as Michele's parents, forty years ago, inevitably three generations are all huddled around the dining room table playing Tombola.

This year School Amici wants to share Tombola with our first-grade Adopt-A-Class at the Academy of World Languages.  The school is home to students from more than 40 different countries, speaking 38 different languages.  What better way to bring people of so many different cultures together than through a rousing game of Tombola?

We're looking for volunteers to make this a special party for these six-year-olds, many of whom are new to our country.  It's on November 20 at 12:45p.m., Academy of World Languages and we need prizes, presents and Italian pastries to make it a day that we'll all remember.

Please contact Kathy@schoolamici.com or call 513 681-0224 if you can play a part in a great new tradition.




Wednesday, August 1, 2012

The American Tourist in Italy

by Gabriella Mileti  (Italian version follows)

Summer is here, which usually means one thing: a family trip to Italy….at least that’s how it was in my household growing up.  If you are indeed off to “il Bel Paese” this summer to get a taste of “la dolce vita,” let me provide you with some tips.  Not only because I’ve been to Italy countless times as a “tourist,” but having lived in Italy for five years, I can spot a tourist from about 5 meters away, yes I said meters.  My friends and I would even have bets on spotting “the American” out of all the tourists around the city.  I would always win.    

Cuisine
First and foremost, when traveling to Italy, you almost have to forget what you know about Italian food or at least think is “Italian.”  Italian-American dishes are rather different than Italian dishes.  In fact, it may come to a surprise to some, but the Italian cuisine is very simple and is not loaded with spices and garlic, like it is in America.  In Italy, food is so fresh and full of flavor in itself, sometimes all you need is to add a touch of olive oil. 


Classic spaghetti with tomato sauce

If you order a salad as an appetizer at the beginning of the meal, the waiter will probably look at you strange.  Especially, if you ask for it with “Italian dressing”…which of course does not exist.  Italians stick to simple extra virgin olive oil and vinegar, usually Balsamic from Modena and salt to dress their salad.  Salads in their simplicity are eaten at the end of the meal to cleanse the palette.  Oh, and, despite its name, a Cesaer salad is an Italian-American invention.  Also on the appetizers menu, you will not find fried calamari with marinara sauce.  For one thing, fried calamari is served as a second dish with a squirt of lemon.  Furthermore, the term “marinara sauce” is the Italian-American word for a tomato sauce.  If you ask for “marinara sauce” in Italy, they will give you a seafood based sauce…as the word “marinara” means “sailor style.”  By the way, don’t dare asking for butter with the bread basket on the table, you will simply not get it. 
Moving on to the first course, believe it or not, Italians do not eat pasta at every meal or every day.  Pasta is often replaced by a risotto, minestrone or soup, or and even skipped completely.  When eating long pasta, Italians never roll it with a spoon; it is considered ill-mannered and rude.  The same rule applies to cutting long pasta with a knife.  Italians also do not mix first courses with second courses.  That’s not to say you won’t find meat in your pasta, as there are countless meat sauce recipes in Italy.  You simply won’t ever get steak with a side of pasta or risotto and certainly not a dish of spaghetti and meatballs…another celebrated Italian-American invention. 
Lastly, if you want to avoid an Italian looking at you abnormally, ‘ixnay’ on ordering a cappuccino after lunch or dinner—espresso or espresso macchiato, yes, cappuccino, no.  Italians take their food very seriously.  By now, you’re probably rolling your eyes and think they’re overdoing it a bit, call them crazy or weird, but let’s not forget, for centuries, Italians have taught the world how to eat and the Italian cuisine is the most imitated in the world, period.   

Fashion

Made in Italy fashion shop

            Speaking of teaching the world, we can’t talk about visiting Italy without mentioning tourist fashion faux pas; a topic that hits home for me.  I get it, it’s hot, you’re walking around all day, you’re sweaty and feet are swollen…looking chic is the last of your worries.  Wrong.  You’re in Italy!  It should be the first of your worries.  Fashion in Italy goes back centuries.  From the Romans to the Renaissance, looking good is in our blood, there’s simply no way around it.  I’m not saying you have to look like Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck in “Roman Holiday,” although that would be so incredibly chic, but how about a little bit more attention to what you’re putting on especially in respect to your surroundings. 
Europe in general is a “dress up” society.  Women put on stilettos to go to the supermarket and men always wear a suit or jacket to go to work.  As a tourist, that way of dressing is not practical, but in Italy there is an expression that I, still to this day, have difficulty in translating and it is “la bella figura.”  This means basically making a good impression and looking good, no matter what.  So just think twice before you put on mesh shorts or denim cut offs if you plan on walking on Via Montenapoleone in Milan or visiting the Vatican in Rome.  Additionally, you will notice, no matter how hot it is in the city and trust me it gets HOT, Italian women do not expose a lot of skin.  In Italy there are two ways of dressing: city dressing and beach dressing.  Skimpy tank tops, Daisy Dukes and flip flops are for the beach and beach towns.  Besides, with the strict dress codes found in churches and museums, you will be denied entry and the “beach outfits” will get you nothing but a lot of dirty looks.  It all goes back to the fact that it is a “dress up” society and looking good, always, is just who we are.  Great alternatives to shorts are flowy sundresses and skirts, which will even keep you cooler in that Mediterranean heat.    

Dos & Don’ts
            So after covering food and fashion, there are just some basic etiquette dos and don’ts you definitely want to look out for while traveling to Italy, especially if it’s your first time.  The first one, and one of my favorite to tell tourists is, don’t eat at a restaurant that has the menu translated in 14 different languages.  While you may think “oh, how sweet of them,” chances are the restaurant is a tourist trap—unfortunately taking advantage of people who don’t know better i.e. the typical tourist.  These types of restaurants are found in super-touristy areas of an extremely popular city.  They are usually way over priced and the quality of the food is rather questionable.  This is obviously not necessarily true for all restaurants that offer the menu in English, however when you see one in many languages, run the other way.  You don’t need to speak Italian to eat amazing food in Italy.  Do a little research before traveling.  Find out what are the traditional dishes of that particular city or what the region is famous for.  Walk into a restaurant with a sense of adventure to explore and try new dishes that you probably will never find back home. 

I’m sure you know many Italian words.  Just walking into a Starbucks or opening a menu at any restaurant, you are immediately bombarded with Italian words.  From ciao bella, buon giorno, arrivederci, to venti, grande, latte, espresso, macchiato, spaghetti, antipasto, gnocchi, the incredibly harmonious, romance language, that is just beautiful to listen to has made its way into the American culture.  Although English is spoken in the large tourist cities, don’t be surprised if it isn’t spoken in the smaller cities and towns.  However, with the help of a little phrase book, you will be appreciated for trying, unlike the French.  Yet, remember, with the Italian language there is a formal and informal way of addressing people.  So if you greet people you don’t know with “ciao,” they may look at you strange and consider it impolite.  A good tip is to simply acknowledge them with “buon giorno” or “buona sera.” 

Roman Holidays

Yet if there is one piece of advice I can give you, it would be to relax, enjoy yourself and don’t rush and try to cram 10 cities in 10 days.  This is the country that is known for “dolce far niente,” “sweet doing nothing.”  Not so sure how that mentality is working out for them now with the global financial crisis; but who cares.  You’re on vacation—get lost in Venice, don’t buy counterfeit handbags in Florence and remember when in Rome, do as the Romans do!  Buon Viaggio!   


Il Turista Americano in Italia

L'estate è arrivata, quindi vuol dire solo una cosa: una vacanza con la famiglia in Italia…almeno era così nella mia famiglia durante la mia infanzia.  Se veramente andate a visitare il Bel Paese quest’estate per assaggiare la dolce vita, permettetemi di darvi dei consigli.  Non solo perchè sono stata in Italia tante volte come “turista,” ma dato  che sono vissuta in Italia per 5 anni, riesco ad identificare un turista da 5 metri, si, ho detto metri.  Io ed i miei amici facevamo delle scommesse per individuare “gli americani” in gruppi di turisti.  Io, ovviamente, vincevo sempre. 

La Cucina
            Innanzitutto, quando viaggiate in Italia, dovreste praticamente dimenticare ciò che conoscete del cibo italiano o almeno cosa pensate che sia “italiano.”  I piatti italo americani sono molto diversi dai piatti italiani.  Infatti, magari vi stupirà sapere che la cucina italiana è molto semplice e non è carica con spezie e aglio, come in America.  In Italia, il cibo è così fresco e buono per sè che a volte ci vuole solo un filo d’olio. 
            Se ordinate un’insalata come antipasto all’inizio del pasto, il cameriere probabilmente vi guarderà strano.  Soppratutto se la chiedete con “Italian dressing”…che non esiste.  Gli italiani usano semplicemente olio extra vergine e aceto, di solito balsamico di Modena e un po’ di sale per condire l’insalata.  L’insalata è semplice e viene mangiata alla fine del pasto, per pulire il palato.  Un’altra cosa, nonostante il suo nome, l’insalata Cesare è un’invenzione italo americana.  Anche nel menù degli antipasti, non troverete mai calamari fritti con sugo alla marinara.  A prescindere, i calamari fritti sono considerati un secondo piatto e vengono serviti con una spruzzatina di limone.  Inoltre, il sugo marinara è la parola italo americana per dire sugo al pomodoro.  Se chiedete il sugo alla marinara in Italia, vi daranno un sugo a base di pesce, perchè la parola “marinara” referisce a qualcosa che viene dal mare.  A proposito, non vi azzardate di chiedere il burro con il pane a tavola, semplicemente non ve lo danno. 
            Parlando del primo piatto, credetelo o no, ma gli italiani non mangiano pasta ad ogni pasto e neanche ogni giorno.  La pasta è spesso sostituita con un risotto, un minestrone o una zuppa, o anche saltato completemente.  Mentre mangiano la pasta lunga, gli italiani non la rotolano mai con il cucchiaio; non è considerato educato.  La stessa regola è applicata anche quando tagliate la pasta lunga con il coltello.  In più gli italiani non mescolano i primi piatti con i secondi piatti.  Non è che non troverete mai la carne nella pasta—esistono in Italia tante ricette di sughi a base di carne.  Ma semplicemente nei ristoranti, non vi daranno mai una bistecca con un contorno di pasta o risotto e certemente non un piatto di spaghetti con le polpette…un’altra tanto celebrata invenzione italo americana. 
              Infine, se volete veramente evitare di essere guardati stranamente da un italiano, non ordinate un cappuccino dopo pranzo o cena—espresso o espresso macchiato, si; cappuccino, no.  Gli italiani prendono sul serio il cibo.  A questo punto, sicuramente state pensando che gli italiani stiano un po’ esaggerando, chiamateli pazzi o strani, ma non dimentichiamo che per secoli, gli italiani hanno insegnato al mondo come mangiare e la cucina italiana è quella più copiata nel mondo, punto.

La Moda                
            Parlando di insegnare al mondo, non possiamo parlare di visitare l’Italia, senza accennare i faux pas compiuti dai turisti; un soggetto che mi colpisce da vicino.  Capisco, fa caldo, state camminando ovunque per tutto il giorno, state sudando e i vostri piedi sono gonfi…essere chic è l’ultimo dei vostri pensieri.  Sbagliato!  Siete in Italia!  Dovrebbe essere il primo dei vostri pensieri.  La moda in Italia ha fatto molta strada.  Dai Romani al Rinascimento, apparire belli è nel nostro sangue, non c’è un modo per evitarlo.  Non sto dicendo che dovreste vestirvi come Audrey Hepburn e Gregory Peck nel film “Roman Holiday,” anche se sarebbe molto chic fare una cosa del genere, ma perchè non fare più attenzione su ciò che s’indossa.  L’Europa in generale è una società piuttosto elegante.  Le donne si mettono i tacchi a spillo per andare al supermercato e gli uomini indossano sempre un abito o giacca per andare al lavoro.  Come turista, capisco che quel modo di vestirsi non è pratico, ma in Italia, esiste l’espressione “la bella figura.”  Cioè fare una bell’ impressione anche se comporta sacrificio.  Quindi pensateci bene prima di mettere i pantaloncini a rete o pantaloncini strappati se avete intenzione di passeggiare su Via Montenapoleone a Milano o fare visita al Vaticano a Roma.  In più, noterete che nonostante il caldo nella città, e credetemi, fa CALDO, le donne italiane non espongono tanta pelle.  In Italia, ci sono due modi di vestirsi, per la città e per la spiaggia.  Le canottiere sottili, i pantaloncini corti e l’infradito, sono per la spiaggia e le città di mare.  Oltretutto, con le rigide regole dell’abbigliamento nei musei e le chiese, verrete negate l’ingresso e riceverete degli sguardi con i vostri outfit per la spiaggia.  Ritorno sempre al fatto che questa è una società più elegante e avere una bella presenza, apparire belli è sempre molto importante.  Perfette alternative ai pantalonici sono vestiti e gonne, che vi terrebbero ancora più freschi nel caldo del Mediterraneo.

Fate così e non così          
            Quindi dopo aver coperto il cibo e la moda, ci sono delle cose basilari da fare e da non fare che dovreste sapere se andate in Italia, soprattuto sè per la prima volta.  La prima cosa, e una delle mie preferite a dire ai turisiti, di non mangiare nei ristoranti che hanno il menù tradotto in 14 lingue diverse.  Magari pensate “che carini,” probabilmente il ristorante è una trappola per i turisti—purtroppo prendono vantaggio della gente che non conosce di meglio, cioè il turista tipico.  Questi tipi di ristoranti si trovano nelle zone super turistiche nella città molto famose.  Sono di solito cari per la quantità e la qualità è discutibile.  Ovviamente non è necessariamente vero per tutti i ristoranti che offrono il menù in inglese, però quando vedete tante lingue, scappate in un’altra direzione.  Non dovete parlare l’italiano per mangiare cibo straordinario in Italia.  Basta un po’ di ricerca prima di viaggiare.  Scoprite quali sono i piatti tipici di quella città e di quella regione.  Entrate in un ristorante con un senso di avventura per scoprire e provare piatti nuovi che probabilmente non troverete a casa. 
            Sono certa che conoscete già tante parole italiane.  Soltanto entrando in un Starbucks o aprendo un menu in qualsiasi ristorante, siete immediatamente bombardati con parole italiane.  Da ciao bella, buon giorno, arrivederci, to venti, grande, latte, espresso, macchiato, spaghetti, antipasto, gnocchi, la nostra lingua incredibilmente armoniosa e romantica, è veramente bella ad ascoltarla.  Ha fatto già strada nella cultura americana.  Anche se l’inglese è parlato nelle città turistiche, non vi stupirete se nelle piccole città e nei piccoli centri non parlano l’inglese.  Però, con l’aiuto di un frasario, verrai apprezzato per lo sforzo, non come i francesi.  Comunque, ricordate, la lingua italiana, ha un modo formale e informale per rivolgersi alle persone.  Quindi se salutate le persone che non conoscete con “ciao,” è possibile che vi guarderanno in un modo strano e lo considerano maleducato.  Un buon consiglio è di semplicemente salutare tutti con “buon giorno” o “buona sera.”
            Comunque se vi posso dare solo un suggerimento, vi direi di non avere fretta a provare di girare 10 città in 10 giorni, ma rilassatevi e godete tutto.  Questo è il paese che è conosciuto per il “dolce far niente.”  Non so come questa mentalità stia funzionando in un momento di crisi finanziaria—ma non importa.  Siete in vacanza—perdetevi a Venezia, non comprate le borse false a Firenze e ricordate, quando siete a Roma, fate come fanno i romani!  Buon Viaggio!            

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Patrimoni Italiani Nascosti

di Michele Alonzo

Sapevate che l’Italia è al primo posto al mondo per i siti considerati Patrimonio dell’Umanità dall’Unesco? Ce ne sono ben 47 in tutta la nostra penisola. L’Italia e’ un paese artisticamente ricco perche’ ogni regione ed ogni piccolo paese ha una sua personale tradizione artistica o artigianale, che risale spesso a molti secoli fa ed è stata tramandata di generazione in generazione.
          Questa volta non parlo delle classiche città d’arte visitate da milioni di turisti ogni anno: Roma, Firenze, Venezia, Siena, etc… Piuttosto vorrei che i lettori scoprissero dei piccoli luoghi, non noti alla stragrande maggioranza delle persone; insomma dei tesori nascosti che varrebbe la pena di visitare durante il prossimo viaggio in Italia. Ne ho scelti cinque, in ordine da nord a sud. Partiamo per il nostro viaggio immaginario.

Bussana Vecchia
          Il nostro itinerario comincia in Liguria. Nella provincia di Imperia, a pochi chilometri dal confine francese, c’è’ Bussana Vecchia, un piccolo paese fantasma che risale ad oltre mille anni fa, costruito in cima ad una collina, probabilmente per difendersi meglio dagli attacchi dei Saraceni. La parte originaria del paese fu distrutta da un violento terremoto 125 anni fa, tanto che fu dichiarata pericolante ed inabitabile, perciò una nuova città (Bussana Nuova) fu costruita a valle. Negli anni sessanta un gruppo di artisti decise di ritraslocare nella città vecchia e ricreare una piccola comunità basata su una vita frugale ed autonoma. Oggi Bussana Vecchia conta ancora poche decine di abitanti che vivono vendendo artefatti ed oggetti artigianali ai pochi turisti che la visitano di tanto in tanto.
Palmanova
          Dalla Liguria andiamo in Friuli, al confine nord-orientale con la Croazia. Entriamo a Palmanova, un antica città costruita dai Veneziani nel XVI secolo, è caratterizzata dalla configurazione planimetrica a stella con nove punte, che costituisce la parte fortificata del paese. Infatti Palmanova viene anche chiamata città stellata. La piazza centrale del paese è perfettamente esagonale ed al centro vi è una grande bandiera italiana. Alcuni secoli fa i Veneziani costruirono la fortezza per difendersi dalle incursioni degli Ottomani. Questa caratteristica roccaforte possiede tre cerchie di muri rinforzati e passaggi sotterranei per una lunghezza totale di ben cinque chilometri.
Faenza
          Muoviamoci lungo la penisola verso sud, ed entriamo  in Emilia-Romagna, dove a pochi chilometri ad ovest di Ravenna troviamo Faenza, nota per la manifattura di maiolica, ceramica e terracotta. Infatti il nome in inglese “faience” è proprio diventato sinonimo di ceramiche artistiche. Non a caso, a Faenza c’è il Museo Internazionale della Ceramica, che include pezzi di varie epoche ed origini geografiche. Nei mesi di settembre ed ottobre sono concentrati i maggiori eventi d’arte di ceramisti che attraggono numerosi amatori, collezionisti ed artisti da tutto il mondo. Faenza si trova sulla famosa Via Emilia, che e’ stata testimone di tante mitiche corse automobilistiche del leggendario Tazio Nuvolari. Circa venti chilometri a nord, su questa stessa via, si trova l’autodromo internazionale Enzo Ferrari.
Civita di Bagnoregio
          Percorrendo l’Italia verso sud, arriviamo al confine tra Umbria e Lazio, dove possiamo visitare un caratteristico paesino chiamato Civita di Bagnoregio, che sembra essere rimasto topograficamente isolato ed indietro nel tempo. Qui c’e’ una sola piazza principale dove la gente si riunisce dopo una passeggiata tra le piccole vie acciottolate di origine etrusca. Non ci sono automobili e i pochi abitanti locali (meno di cinquanta) godono di un tranquillo paesaggio rurale che si affaccia sulla valle del Tevere e che si trova a soli 100 chilometri dal frenetico ritmo della capitale Roma. L’antica città è tutta costruita in cima ad una collina, sopra un terreno di roccia vulcanica friabile, che ha subito vari processi erosivi nel tempo; per questa ragione Civita di Bagnoregio è stata inclusa tra i cento siti geografici a maggior rischio di estinzione al mondo.
Matera
          Dal centro Italia, andiamo verso la fine dello stivale e ci fermiamo nella regione Basilicata, dove c’è un’altra cittadina che si trova in un canalone che ha subito un processo di erosione del terreno da parte di un vicino torrente: è la città di Matera, che è per lo più conosciuta per i suoi famosi Sassi, considerati come luogo di uno dei primi insediamenti umani in Italia. Matera è l’unico luogo al mondo dove la gente può vantarsi di vivere nelle stesse costruzioni dei loro antenati di circa diecimila anni fa.  Le case qui sono in pratica caverne ed alcune strade a volte sono situate sopra i tetti di altre case. A causa del suo paesaggio primitivo ed antico, l’area di Matera è stata usata in alcuni film per creare scene raffiguranti la terra santa, come l’antica Gerusalemme. Proprio tra i Sassi di Matera sono state girate molte riprese del film La Passione di Cristo di Mel Gibson. Nel 1993 l’Unesco ha incluso i Sassi di Matera tra i luoghi patrimonio dell’umanità. Dovunque si vada e comunque si esplori l’Italia, si trovano tesori nascosti, luoghi affascinanti che ci riportano al passato, a storia e tradizioni millenarie. È forse proprio questa la vera Italia, quella che ci da emozioni, quella che ci fa sognare e capire quanto sia unico il nostro bel paese.
           

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Giovanni Falcone: a Modern Hero

by Michele Alonzo

             May 23, 1992 is one of those days when Italians still remember, after exactly 20 years, what they were doing in the moment the media announced the assassination of Giovanni Falcone. On that day judge Falcone, his wife and three bodyguards were killed a few miles from Palermo, his hometown, in one of the most brutal massacres carried over by Sicilian Mafia.
The site right after the explosion

            The cold execution of one of the most prominent judges of that time shocked Italian public opinion. Giovanni Falcone had dedicated his whole life to the investigation of illicit activities operated by the most powerful Sicilian Mafia families, so uncovering the complex hierarchical structure of Cosa Nostra. Together with another judge and friend, Paolo Borsellino, who would also be killed by Mafia only two months after him, Falcone had discovered money laundering among bank accounts held by the criminal organization, that had made huge profits from drug sales between Sicily and United States since the 70s. For this reason, he had been appointed head of the Anti-Mafia Pool, a group of prosecutors having the only purpose to enquire and to report Mafia’s criminal activities to the Italian government. In 1987 Giovanni Falcone was the head of the famous "Maxi-Trial of Palermo" that resulted in sending to jail 360 Mafia members for a total of 2,665 years and forced them to pay 12 billion Italian lire in fines. In 1984 actually Giovanni Falcone had convinced the so-called “repentant” Tommaso Buscetta to testify against his former affiliates, so bringing to justice the most important bosses of the families that controlled large territories in Sicily. Maybe it was just this brilliant victory against Mafia that cost him his own life a few years later. They never forgot and never forgave this offense and decided the assassination of their primary prosecutor.
 
Giovanni Falcone (1939-1992)
The personal life of Judge Falcone was greatly influenced by his role of primary investigating head of the Anti-Mafia Pool; his transfers from one place to another, together with his family, always occurred in absolute secrecy and were never planned in advance. Falcone had been threatened many times and had escaped attempted murders in the past. In June 1989 a bomb was found on the beach where he was spending a brief vacation with his wife. For security reasons his family was immediately transferred in a remote safe location on the island of Sardinia.
            Judge Falcone was aware to live on the edge and that his life was at risk every day, but never backed off from the duties he had been assigned. Notwithstanding of this, Falcone continued to engage on his battle, until May 23, 1992. On that doomed day a thousand pound of TNT was remotely ignited, making a whole stretch of the highway to Palermo airport blow up right when Falcone, his wife and the bodyguards of his escort were driving by. The explosion was so powerful that it was recorded by local seismographs as an earthquake.

Memorial stone where he was killed
            Falcone’s funeral was attended by the whole city of Palermo and by people coming from everywhere, national and foreign politicians, collegues, family, friends and simple people who want to pay him the last homage. It was broadcasted live on national television and watched by millions of Italians. In May 2004, a memorial stone, listing the name of all victims of that tragic day, was placed on that ramp of the Palermo-Capaci highway. The International airport of Palermo was re-named in honor of Falcone and Borsellino, who sacrificed their lives in the name of justice. After his death, Falcone was awarded the Civil Gold Medal of Honor and in 1992 was named by Time Magazine one of the top heroes of the last 60 years. One day, during an interview to a newspaper, Falcone had stated “Mafia is by no means invincible. Mafia is a human act operated by men and, as all human acts, it has a beginning, an evolution and will have an end”. And we have to believe him.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

La Cucina: How low can you go?

The last time I posted about kitchens, La Piazza friends thought I had already hit the bottom of the "cucina barrel" when I contrasted my kitchen in Cincinnati with the one I borrowed from a friend on the Italian Riviera.

In case you missed that post, here's my kitchen at home::
Where I have more than everything I need and I am more than happy.    

This is the kitchen at my friend's apartment:
Simple, but temporary, and I was happy.

Michele and I have bought an apartment in Savona recently and when you buy a home in Italy you buy the walls, the floors, and almost nothing else.  I'm still waiting for IKEA to install the kitchen at the end of the month and for the last several weeks I have used a small table and a microonde (microwave), washing my dishes in the bathroom sink (thank-goodness they got that installed before Michele left for the United States).
OMG, what am I going to do with this?
I am happy to report that it can be done.  You can buy Chinese take-out and there's at least half a dozen wood-fired Neapolitan pizzerias within walking distance where I can grab a Margherita to go for 4 Euros - and it's ready in 5 minutes. 

But I prefer the taste of food I make.  And, believe it or not, 4 or 5 Euros is an expensive meal compared to the way Michele and I eat at home.  So the other day I made an investment in a box of recipes, "Microonde, Le Migliori Ricette" for 5 Euros and after a week it has already paid for itself three times over.

And I am happy.
The Italian version of the microwave is very different from its American cousin.  It comes equipped with a special grill feature, a grill pan and rack that makes all the difference.  Yesterday I made a Risotto con salsiccia e peperoni.  Today I did a Parmigiana di zucchine that should have been enough for three meals, but will only last two because it was so good.  Of course, like all things Italian, cooking with the microwave takes a little longer than it does in the States.  It took me almost an hour to batter and grill the zucchini, make the sauce, and meld the flavors.  But it was worth it.

Ladies, the most important thing I've learned from this moving between cultures is that it's the lowly refrigerator that's the most under-appreciated of all the kitchen appliances.  It doesn't have to be a Sub-Zero.  It doesn't have to have a water dispenser in the door. But cheese gets moldy really fast without one and mine cannot arrive too soon, no matter how many grocery stores are on my block.


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Monday, April 16, 2012

A Love Affair with Pane



Martina

by guest writer Martina Mullen

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie…that’s a PANE! Bells'll ring Ting-a-ling-a-ling, Ting-a-ling-a-ling…that’s a PANEEEEE! I sing this song as I dance, twirling, through my kitchen. No, I have not fallen in love with a boy named “Pane.” I am singing this song because I sing it every time I make fresh bread – I become super excited while the bread is still in the oven but almost ready, and I sing. Sounds crazy, but you do crazy things when you’re in love. And I’m in love with delicious, crusty bread.
                  I haven't always been this way. I didn't even know about fresh, crusty Italian bread until I was 20 years old. I began on my bread path when I was a child and fell in love with the typical Southern breads such as cornbread and biscuits. By the way, to this day there is little I wouldn't do for a fresh, homemade biscuit, served next to a veggie omelet or with some strawberry jam or honey. (If you all could please excuse me, I have to take a moment to recompose myself after thinking about the deliciousness of the homemade Georgia biscuit). Anyway, this post is not a post about biscuits, so let's leave that to its own deserving post another day.
                  The cuisine of the southeastern US doesn't reflect a great amount of Italian influence; thus, it can be difficult to eat authentic Italian food, whether it be from the supermarket or at restaurants. In addition, when I was little, my Italian-American mom didn't make homemade bread because she was working full-time kicking butt and taking names as a lawyer. Because of these two factors, the tradition of crusty Italian bread was not present in my childhood world at home or in restaurants. Any "crusty" bread that I had the opportunity to eat was usually previously frozen, soft after being reheated, covered in butter and garlic powder, served during spaghetti night at our house or with Olive Garden's spaghetti and meatballs (fun fact: this dish doesn't actually exist in Italian cuisine - it doesn't make sense to match a chunky sauce with delicate, small noodles - the size of the noodles always goes with the size of the sauce). I didn't know that this bread would not be considered "delicious" in Italy. I ate it voluntarily - there aren't many things that I don't eat voluntarily - but the bread was never anything special. Then, when I was 20, I visited Italy for the first time and everything changed.

Crusty home-made bread
                  The year was 2006, and I was a student studying abroad at John Cabot University in Trastevere, Rome. Before the fall of that year, I had never been outside of the United States. Stepping out of the airplane for me was entering into another world. I walked around the city for my first few days unable to shut my jaw... I couldn't believe that these people lived there lives in another language, walking around, living within 2000-year-old ruins e nun se ne po’ frega de meno! (FYI: Roman dialect for they don't give a damn! - it's a super useful phrase in Italy, as Italians usually don't...give a damn that is.) The first day in Rome was a blur of hunger and exhaustion. I hadn't slept well on the airplane because I was so excited and when we arrived in Italy, I didn't have time to grab a bite at the airport. My first opportunity to go in search of food was mid-afternoon when we arrived at our apartments. I remember vividly descending the spiral stairs of my new home, and blindly turning right out of my building. What luck!, I thought, A bread shop right next to my building! (At that point I was unaware of the fact that it impossible to go 100 feet in Rome without finding some place to eat or drink something.) I entered the building - scared to death of speaking the language, but my hunger won over my fear and I asked for some bread. Quale tipo? (What kind?), the woman answered me. There are kinds? I thought to myself, and murmured, Ummm non lo so. Ho fame. Non ho ancora mangiato pranzo (Ummm, I don't know. I haven't eaten lunch).  The woman smiled, and without asking me, prepared my lunch. Spero che Le piaccia (I hope you like it), she said, passing me something wrapped in white paper.  Mille grazie, I thanked her, leaving the store. Once on the street, I hastily opened the paper hiding a crusty roll with some sort of spread. I took my first bite of bread and Nutella and died of happiness there on the street. Luckily it was not a crowded street, and after having resurrected from this death of joy, I gathered myself and reentered the bread shop to thank the woman. Buono! Grazie - buono! Grazie – mille grazie – che buono! I exclaimed, almost bursting from joy. In this moment, my love story with bread had begun: it had me. 
Nutella, an all time favorite!

                  I returned to the United States in January of 2007. There are bread stores here that make very good bread, but not very many in Georgia or at Notre Dame, where I was a student. And even if there were amazing bread places close to me, a good loaf of bread here is costly, and as a poor student, I was desperate. I began looking for a recipe that could resemble the bread I had eaten in Italy. After three years of trial and error, I was finally able to find a recipe that doesn't take much manual labor, but does need preparation a day in advance. I hope to share it with any of you that might miss good crusty bread or any of you that might want to try good crusty bread. Although it might not be made in a forno a legna in Italy, my family and I think it does the trick… and it goes great with Nutella.
                  I will leave you all with my new motto, taken from my Piemontese origins: Ol pà l’istofa mai!! (One never gets tired of [good] bread!!)

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Easter Around the Italian Table

by Michele Alonzo
Italy is not only known in the world for its history, art, music and wonderful landscapes, but also for its delicious dishes and special sweets. For example, whoever is lucky to visit the Italian peninsula during the Easter period, realizes that every region has a variety of homemade artisanal products derived from traditional recipes. During Easter week one has the chance to enjoy typical sweets and cakes in any parts of Italy. I have chosen three, which are among the most popular: pastiera, colomba and casatiello.

Neapolitan Pastiera
Pastiera is a sweet symbol of spring. Made with a base of ricotta cheese, eggs and sugar, includes two ingredients that make it unique: orange flower water and soaked grain. All these ingredients are mixed together, along with milk, vanilla extract, candid, and then poured in a traditional handmade pie crust. Then they are covered by thin strips of pasta frolla crossed to form diamond shapes, before being baked.
Very often reality is mixed with legend and this is a unique characteristic that make Italy magic. The story of pastiera is bond to the myth of Mermaid Partenope. The legend tells that Mermaid Partenope used to delight with her singing the people living in the gulf of Naples. In order to thank the Mermaid, the local inhabitants decided to offer the fruit of their fertile land: flower, richness and power of farmers; ricotta cheese, gift from shepherds; eggs, symbol of renovating life; tender grain boiled in milk as symbol of abundance; orange flower water as fragrance of the earth; the aromatic spices from the Oriental lands and sugar, as symbol of sweetness of her supreme voice. Partenope, moved by so many gifts, went back to her kingdom, in the depth of the sea, and laid down these gifts at the feet of gods. They, fascinated by her singing, mixed all the ingredients together: the result was a sweet that was superior to the goodness of Partenope herself: la pastiera.

Colomba Pasquale
The second typical cake for Easter is colomba, so called because made in the shape of a dove, symbol of peace. The dough of this sweet is similar to the traditional panettone for Christmas, but instead of raisins, it is filled with candid fruits. The dough is worked by hand in the shape of a dove and then covered with pearled sugar and almonds, before being baked, after a long rising. The origins of colomba go back to the VI century, but in recent history it is a cake that Milan based company Motta has made famous all over the world. The challenge of the preparation is in the long preparation of the dough, therefore it is important not to hurry in order to allow the dough to rise.

Casatiello
Finally casatiello is a kind of rustic bread of Italian southern cuisine, prepared from a mix of flour, water, yeast, lard and a pinch of salt and pepper. Once the mixed is blended, little pieces of cheese, salame, ham and congealed pig fat are added. The whole mix is worked in a shape of big donut, which symbolizes the crown of thorns on the head of crucified Jesus. Four eggs are placed on top of the donut and covered by narrow stripes of dough in a cross before being baked. The casatiello should be baked in a wood burning oven (but also the regular home gas oven is fine) until it becomes of amber color.
This rustic bread is eaten at home during the Easter meal or as a snack during the traditional holiday trip on Pasquetta, the Monday after Easter, when Italians travel to other towns to spend this Catholic religious holiday with their families.
BUONA PASQUA to all our readers!

Melinda
Recipe for Pastiera (courtesy of our student Melinda Harris)
 
Dough:
Kneed the following ingredients. Wrap in plastic wrap. Chill for half an hour as you make the filling.
2 ½ cups flour (13 ounces)
1 ½ sticks unsalted butter
¼ cup sugar
1 tsp. vanilla
zest of one large lemon
2 eggs & 1 yolk

Filling:
Over medium high heat, cook the following 10 minutes. Stirring until creamy. Remove from heat and proceed to the next step.

1 can of Italian Grano
3 ½ ounces of whole milk
Zest of one large lemon
2 TBSP of butter

In a food processor combine:
(Preheat oven at this point to 370 degrees. Place a cookie sheet into the oven as it preheats.)

24 ounces ricotta (try “fresco” brand from Kroger. Found in gourmet cheese section)
1 ½ pounds of sugar
5 eggs
2 yolks
1 bustina of vanilla sugar (or 1 TBSP of vanilla extract)
1 TBSP of orange blossom water
Zest of one large lemon

In a very large bowl combine:
Ricotta mixture
Grain mixture
80 grams of candied orange peel (diced)
80 grams of candied fruit (diced)

Put it all together:
Roll dough to less than 1/8 of an inch thick. Place dough in a 10-inch diameter spring form pan. Save enough dough to cut 6 strips (1 inch wide). Pour in mixture into pan. Place strips over pastiera in a lattice pattern (creating diamond shapes).
Place pastiera on the heated cookie sheet. Bake at 370 degree for 1-1 ½ hours. Turn off oven and let oven cool with cake inside. Store in fridge until day of event.

Presentation:
On the day of serving, preheat oven to 400 degrees. Put pastiera into oven for 2 minutes. This will loosen the cake and allow you to remove it from the pan. Cut cardboard strips and place over the lattice dough strips. Sprinkle powdered sugar over cake. Carefully remove cardboard.  Serve and enjoy!

Happy Easter!

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Hosting, Being a Guest... and Brownies!


Martina Mirandola Mullen
 by guest writer Martina Mullen

After having lived in Europe during the fall of 2011, I moved to Cincinnati in January, hoping to establish a more permanent residence. This move came with the usual discovering of a new city and its people, but also included a bit of reverse culture shock as I re-acclimated to aspects of an American lifestyle.  I missed not having the time and option to go to fresh, local markets, but was easily able to make do with Cinci’s Jungle Jims and Findlay Market. Good crusty bread is harder to find, but does exist and tastes delicious when make the effort to locate it.  And although I walked everywhere in Rome, I quickly readjusted to the lifestyle of automobiles in America, and even took it one step further by adding an hour-long commute to and from my new job. However, I am still adjusting to on specific aspect of my fellow Americans, and finding it hard to do so.
            When did the rules of being a guest or a host change? Call me old-fashioned in my great age of 26, but it seems to me that the feeling of entitlement of my generation to have what you want, when you want it, how you want it, has superseded the need to be a good guest or host.  Let me explain. After moving to a new city, I feel the need to meet people. I’m a social person and not having friends does not sit well with me. So, I met a few people from my apartments and invited them to dinner. I soon found out that this experience was not going to be as easy as I had imagined.

            First, I had to take inventory of allergies and intolerances: How many lactose intolerant people? Anyone allergic to nuts? Do we have any celiacs in the crowd? Other strange allergies I don’t know about?  I can’t blame any of my guests for these. You can’t help your gluten intolerance and I can’t help the fact that cheese and my stomach are unfortunately not friends…and I’d like all of my guests to leave my house alive. However, Round 2 of planning gets a little more complicated: Is anyone a vegetarian? How about vegans? Are there any food taboos associated with the religions of my guests? Any other social or cultural restrictions I should know about?  Again, my American respect of individualism prohibits me from becoming too annoyed. Vegetarians should have the freedom to make a statement of principle and, being Catholic with its No Meat Fridays, I not only respect but empathize with those who cannot eat certain foods due to religious prohibitions.
            So I’m driving back to my apartment two days before my dinner, trying to configure a menu to accommodate the gluten-free guest, my cheese intolerance, the vegetarian, and the Muslim guest when I run into one of the invitees in the parking lot of our building. After exchanging small talk, I run my potential menu by him: bread, risotto with sun-dried tomatoes, vegetarian eggplant and zucchini moussaka with no meat and cheese only half of the dish (can be eaten as a side or entrée), and a roasted chicken. He cringes. My heart sinks. “Does that sound okay?” I ask.  “Well….I don’t really like eggplant,” he explains. Okay. So now we’re going to Level 3 of planning of a dinner: accommodating all of the specific food preferences of your guests? “No problem,” I say, “I’ll figure something else out.” I think of another dish all the way up the stairs – I need one filling enough for a vegetarian to eat, but that could also serve as a veggie side dish for the meat eaters of the group. I draw a blank and ultimately decide to tack a salad on the growing menu  so as to accommodate my new eggplant-hating friend.
            The next day I realize I should make a dessert. I have a great recipe for olive-oil lemon cake in one of my cookbooks; it’s different and still really good. I run this by a new apartment friend over drinks. She cringes. My heart sinks…again. “Ooooo, I don’t really like lemon,” she says. “No problem,” I respond, “ How about peanut butter fudge?” It’s fast, easy, and tasty, I think to myself. Take a guess at what happened next…her boyfriend is allergic to nuts. At this point my brain is exhausted and I don’t even feel like cooking anything, and then I throw out my last attempt, “What about brownies?” Her eyes light up, “We love brownies!!” BINGO. I should have gone there first... American can resist the brownie.

            What ever happened to eating what the hosts cooks? When did inviting people to dinner turn into the host being a personal chef for multiple guest, commissioned to appease the tastes and restrictions of each individual? I can’t say that I’m not guilty of imposing my no-cheese or cream restriction on my host, but I am a little surprised at the detailed explanations of “can’t do” foods that I am given by guests.
            In the end, the dinner turned out well – we had a nice showing of 5 people plus us with - this is not a joke - a vegetarian, a no-pork eater, caeliac, and a no-cheese eater. I cooked all day and presented a buffet of food for the guests to choose from. Some guests ate a little of this or that, and the three non-restricted ate a little of all of the plates. The only food that no one passed up was the brownies. I said goodbye to the last guest, mentally exhausted.
          As I sat on the couch after everyone had left, I reflected on the night. All of my efforts rendered me with two vital conclusions: 1)These days, it’s better to go out to eat with new friends, and 2) You can’t wrong with the food that no American can resist…the brownie.