SONGS AND CUCCIDATI AND SOCCER
Yesterday was a lovely day and we spent time reading on the terrace and taking walks. I heard singing in the distance, and then what sounded like a screaming contest, and then noticed some young girls up on the ridge. I figured it was a birthday party, so ignored the sounds and enjoyed the bright sunshine.
Later we noticed smoke coming from below, an indication that Emilio, the neighbor below us on the tennis court end, was in for the weekend, starting his outdoor forno for cooking something delicious. So after pranzo, Steve dropped down to say hello. But Emilio said others were coming later for dolci (sweets, or dessert) so to come over after three when they arrived. I assumed we would finally meet his sister-in-law from England, whose parents we had met and spoken with on the beach, and who was anxious to talk English with us.
I asked Steve to take a walk with me above the lighthouse on this fine day, so we set off to look at views. Suddenly, we heard the singing again, only much louder this time. And sure enough, a small band of Italian girl scouts came around the bend and happily posed for my camera. They asked us where we were from and I told them, mentioning that I had heard them all day from our house. They laughed sheepishly, but you could tell they were pleased at the attention.
We went down to Emilio and Mariarosas house and found to our delight that it was a cuccidati making party! I have had cuciddati just about every year of my life at Christmas because my mother and aunts make it. So not only did I know what it is, but I had helped make it, and in Sicily, I had helped at Ignatzias several times too. The women joked and gossiped and if they thought I did not understand explained things to me as best they could. Meanwhile, Steve got roped into going to watch the Inter-Juvenitus soccer game on cable at Angelos house down the street. He always cracks up at these games, as the ladies hen parties are more animated then the guys watching soccer. There is no beer or alcohol, and certainly no snacks after eating a meal. Maybe there is a hint at how Italians manage to stay so trim. At any rate, we came home with the start of our Christmas cookies, and I hid them to try to make them last.
Later we noticed smoke coming from below, an indication that Emilio, the neighbor below us on the tennis court end, was in for the weekend, starting his outdoor forno for cooking something delicious. So after pranzo, Steve dropped down to say hello. But Emilio said others were coming later for dolci (sweets, or dessert) so to come over after three when they arrived. I assumed we would finally meet his sister-in-law from England, whose parents we had met and spoken with on the beach, and who was anxious to talk English with us.
I asked Steve to take a walk with me above the lighthouse on this fine day, so we set off to look at views. Suddenly, we heard the singing again, only much louder this time. And sure enough, a small band of Italian girl scouts came around the bend and happily posed for my camera. They asked us where we were from and I told them, mentioning that I had heard them all day from our house. They laughed sheepishly, but you could tell they were pleased at the attention.
We went down to Emilio and Mariarosas house and found to our delight that it was a cuccidati making party! I have had cuciddati just about every year of my life at Christmas because my mother and aunts make it. So not only did I know what it is, but I had helped make it, and in Sicily, I had helped at Ignatzias several times too. The women joked and gossiped and if they thought I did not understand explained things to me as best they could. Meanwhile, Steve got roped into going to watch the Inter-Juvenitus soccer game on cable at Angelos house down the street. He always cracks up at these games, as the ladies hen parties are more animated then the guys watching soccer. There is no beer or alcohol, and certainly no snacks after eating a meal. Maybe there is a hint at how Italians manage to stay so trim. At any rate, we came home with the start of our Christmas cookies, and I hid them to try to make them last.
posted by Sicilian Mama at 5:36 PM
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