MAY DAY MAY DAY
That is not just a call for help. It is also Labor Day for most of the world, including Sicily. I found out that May 1st celebrations are much like Pasqualoni (Little Easter, or the Day After Easter) and Carneveloni (The Day after the last day of Carnival, or Ash Wednesday) and Liberation Day (April 25, the day the Italians celebrate the liberation of Italy by the Bristish and American forces in World War II, indeed, liberating Italy from . . . Italy) celebrations. That is to say, everyone heads to the country to have a picnic.
This year, my new friend Vinny, or Vincenzo, invited me to join his family at his niece's house in Raganella. Raganella is a small town outside of Sciacca, right near Caltabubu and Scungipanni, which are two names I like even more. Actually, small town may be a bit of an exaggeration. There is not even a wide spot in the road where the two dirt lanes go off the so called main road that somehow make up this hamlet.
I got to know Vinny because he had lived in the US for many years, and was recieving Social Security benefits. Both he and his wife had gotten letters from the IRS about the economic stimulus package, and while heretofore they had not had to file income tax forms, they would get part of the stimulus package money if they filed this year. I explained this to them, and helped them send out the forms. I am sure that when they get the money it will really help the US economy, and the dollar will become stronger. I hope so.
Anyway, we went out to Raganella to where his niece Maria lives. I had already had my usual breakfast of three cups of coffee, juice, and toast, along with espresso and a cookie at Vinny's house. Maria insisted we should have some coffee, and we were able to hold her off for about half an hour, when she finally brough out some iced coffee (and yes, it was indeed warm enough for iced coffee, or iced espresso. It was good. She took us on a tour of her house, and the apartment her son Marco is fixing up to move into when he gets married in August. We hung out at a smaller house, which contained Maria's kitchen, a second bathroom, and her other son, Angelo's, bedroom.
As soon as the tour was over, Maria's mother Giovanna arrived with a crate of fava beans, a crate of artichoke, water, tomatos, and other goodies. Vinny had brought sausage, sardines, panchetta, and wine. I had brought wine. We were off to a good start.
We sat around the table talking as we all took the fava beans out of their shells. The ladies started working on a tomato sauce, dredging two kilos of swordfish fillets in a mollica and egg coating, and beginning to make the pasta sauce.
Maria, who is a widow, waited until her two sons, Angelo and Marco got home, before beginning to seriously cook. While both boys worked on the fire, Vinny, Giovanna and I walked into the orchard to pick fresh nespoli (medlars) and blood oranges (the first I had seen growing outside the Catania province) for the fruit course. When the fire was ready, Angelo took charge of grilling the four kilos of sausage that Vinny had brought.
While the sausage was cooking, Maria started the pasta, and had me try the sauce, made from tomatos, swordfish, anchovies, onions, and peas. She also started frying up the swordfish fillets in the kitchen. As soon as the sausage was all grilled, Marco started grilling the panchetta, which is basically a raw (uncured) bacon, very thickly cut. There were about three kilos of this. When it was done, it was time to grill the kilo of 'back up sausage', which was simply extra sausage someone brought if the original amount was not enough for the ten people who would be eating this pranzo. When the sausage was all grilled, it was time to put the fresh sardines on the grill. About two kilos.
Finally, it was time to sit down and eat. Of course we started with a huge bowl of pasta with Maria's fresh made sauce, followed fresh anchovies soaked in vinegar, and then on to the sausage and panchetta and swordfish.
If you have been doing the mental math as you have been reading, then you know that in addition to the pasta and sauce, the tomato salad, and the anchovies, there was about a kilo of meat of fish for everyone. And it all was good. And there were leftovers. Oh my, we tried hard, but there were leftovers, so everyone will be able to eat well over the weekend.
Of course we could not stop there. We had to have fruit - the nespole and oranges we had picked. Then, the boys used some scrap lumber to put together a little dog house for their two dogs. That created a good bit of noise, and helped drown out the endless repetition of the Village People singing 'YMCA' at top volume in the neighbor's yard. Meanwhile, the ladies did their usual post pranzo thing, which was cleaning up the kitchen. They also started boiling the fava beans. Over dinner, we had talked about many things, including about the Priest in Brazil who tried to set a world record of balloon aided flight in a lawn chair. Having talked about his, Vinny decided to do his best to
make sure that Maria would not lose any of her lawn chairs, by weighing one down in the shade, near where the boys were banging away on the soon to be dog house, and quickly entered that near trance state common to Sicilian men after a good and full meal. (I took my nap in Maria's main house, on a much more comfortable sofa!!)
When Vinny and I had woken up (and when the women had finished cleaning up the kitchen, and Angelo and Marco got tired of trying to build the dog house), we sat down at the table to devour fava beans. After all, we had had nothing to eat for almost an hour and a half.
As soon as we made a good sized dent in the fava beans, the ladies went back in the kitchen to start getting things ready for making pizza. Of course this included making the dough and letting it rise a bit, cutting up the anchovies into little pieces, peeling and cutting up the onions, cubing the mozzerella, and making sure that the ham, the hot sausage, and all the rest was ready to go on the top of the pizzas. Angelo's findanzatta arrived, with her family and some friends, and the pitched right in. The dog house was torn apart and reborn as a sort of child's gate to keep the dogs out of the kitchen and the outdoor eating area. Marco helped get the fire going in the outside pizza oven, but the cooking of the pizza was clearly to be Angelo' job, just as the grilling of the meat was Marco's.
At about 8:30, when the fire was going well, and the brick oven floor had heated up almost enough, Angelo's fidanzatta and her sister started making the first of the pizza's, or should I say started putting them together. Vinny was there to make sure that they did it right. About fifteen people were there for dinner. Poor Maria, after working so hard all day, took to her bed with a head ache and stomach ache. That did not stop the group from consuming about ten or twelve (or more?) family size pizzas.
Finally, it seemed, there was a lull in the eating. As the ladies argued about whether there should be sfingi or ricotta filled ravioli next, I snuck off into the night, to my house, to sleep on an incredibly full stomach. I can understand why these holidays come only once a year, but it is amazing to me how many of these picnic holidays they have, and how much is consumed in these little picnics. Oh my.
Did I leave out the wine, and the water, and the coffee, and the iced coffee, and the artichokes, and whatever else there was (and there was) that I can not remember. Sorry.
Vinny, thanks for the invitation, and Maria, thanks for your generous hospitality.
This year, my new friend Vinny, or Vincenzo, invited me to join his family at his niece's house in Raganella. Raganella is a small town outside of Sciacca, right near Caltabubu and Scungipanni, which are two names I like even more. Actually, small town may be a bit of an exaggeration. There is not even a wide spot in the road where the two dirt lanes go off the so called main road that somehow make up this hamlet.
I got to know Vinny because he had lived in the US for many years, and was recieving Social Security benefits. Both he and his wife had gotten letters from the IRS about the economic stimulus package, and while heretofore they had not had to file income tax forms, they would get part of the stimulus package money if they filed this year. I explained this to them, and helped them send out the forms. I am sure that when they get the money it will really help the US economy, and the dollar will become stronger. I hope so.
Anyway, we went out to Raganella to where his niece Maria lives. I had already had my usual breakfast of three cups of coffee, juice, and toast, along with espresso and a cookie at Vinny's house. Maria insisted we should have some coffee, and we were able to hold her off for about half an hour, when she finally brough out some iced coffee (and yes, it was indeed warm enough for iced coffee, or iced espresso. It was good. She took us on a tour of her house, and the apartment her son Marco is fixing up to move into when he gets married in August. We hung out at a smaller house, which contained Maria's kitchen, a second bathroom, and her other son, Angelo's, bedroom.
As soon as the tour was over, Maria's mother Giovanna arrived with a crate of fava beans, a crate of artichoke, water, tomatos, and other goodies. Vinny had brought sausage, sardines, panchetta, and wine. I had brought wine. We were off to a good start.
We sat around the table talking as we all took the fava beans out of their shells. The ladies started working on a tomato sauce, dredging two kilos of swordfish fillets in a mollica and egg coating, and beginning to make the pasta sauce.
Maria, who is a widow, waited until her two sons, Angelo and Marco got home, before beginning to seriously cook. While both boys worked on the fire, Vinny, Giovanna and I walked into the orchard to pick fresh nespoli (medlars) and blood oranges (the first I had seen growing outside the Catania province) for the fruit course. When the fire was ready, Angelo took charge of grilling the four kilos of sausage that Vinny had brought.
While the sausage was cooking, Maria started the pasta, and had me try the sauce, made from tomatos, swordfish, anchovies, onions, and peas. She also started frying up the swordfish fillets in the kitchen. As soon as the sausage was all grilled, Marco started grilling the panchetta, which is basically a raw (uncured) bacon, very thickly cut. There were about three kilos of this. When it was done, it was time to grill the kilo of 'back up sausage', which was simply extra sausage someone brought if the original amount was not enough for the ten people who would be eating this pranzo. When the sausage was all grilled, it was time to put the fresh sardines on the grill. About two kilos.
Finally, it was time to sit down and eat. Of course we started with a huge bowl of pasta with Maria's fresh made sauce, followed fresh anchovies soaked in vinegar, and then on to the sausage and panchetta and swordfish.
If you have been doing the mental math as you have been reading, then you know that in addition to the pasta and sauce, the tomato salad, and the anchovies, there was about a kilo of meat of fish for everyone. And it all was good. And there were leftovers. Oh my, we tried hard, but there were leftovers, so everyone will be able to eat well over the weekend.
Of course we could not stop there. We had to have fruit - the nespole and oranges we had picked. Then, the boys used some scrap lumber to put together a little dog house for their two dogs. That created a good bit of noise, and helped drown out the endless repetition of the Village People singing 'YMCA' at top volume in the neighbor's yard. Meanwhile, the ladies did their usual post pranzo thing, which was cleaning up the kitchen. They also started boiling the fava beans. Over dinner, we had talked about many things, including about the Priest in Brazil who tried to set a world record of balloon aided flight in a lawn chair. Having talked about his, Vinny decided to do his best to
make sure that Maria would not lose any of her lawn chairs, by weighing one down in the shade, near where the boys were banging away on the soon to be dog house, and quickly entered that near trance state common to Sicilian men after a good and full meal. (I took my nap in Maria's main house, on a much more comfortable sofa!!)When Vinny and I had woken up (and when the women had finished cleaning up the kitchen, and Angelo and Marco got tired of trying to build the dog house), we sat down at the table to devour fava beans. After all, we had had nothing to eat for almost an hour and a half.
As soon as we made a good sized dent in the fava beans, the ladies went back in the kitchen to start getting things ready for making pizza. Of course this included making the dough and letting it rise a bit, cutting up the anchovies into little pieces, peeling and cutting up the onions, cubing the mozzerella, and making sure that the ham, the hot sausage, and all the rest was ready to go on the top of the pizzas. Angelo's findanzatta arrived, with her family and some friends, and the pitched right in. The dog house was torn apart and reborn as a sort of child's gate to keep the dogs out of the kitchen and the outdoor eating area. Marco helped get the fire going in the outside pizza oven, but the cooking of the pizza was clearly to be Angelo' job, just as the grilling of the meat was Marco's.
At about 8:30, when the fire was going well, and the brick oven floor had heated up almost enough, Angelo's fidanzatta and her sister started making the first of the pizza's, or should I say started putting them together. Vinny was there to make sure that they did it right. About fifteen people were there for dinner. Poor Maria, after working so hard all day, took to her bed with a head ache and stomach ache. That did not stop the group from consuming about ten or twelve (or more?) family size pizzas.
Finally, it seemed, there was a lull in the eating. As the ladies argued about whether there should be sfingi or ricotta filled ravioli next, I snuck off into the night, to my house, to sleep on an incredibly full stomach. I can understand why these holidays come only once a year, but it is amazing to me how many of these picnic holidays they have, and how much is consumed in these little picnics. Oh my.
Did I leave out the wine, and the water, and the coffee, and the iced coffee, and the artichokes, and whatever else there was (and there was) that I can not remember. Sorry.
Vinny, thanks for the invitation, and Maria, thanks for your generous hospitality.
posted by Steve at 2:33 PM
1 Comments:
How great of your new friend Vinny to join his family. The meal sounds amazing, all that food, what a feast. Pleased you had a great day!!
Post a Comment
<< Home