August and the Amalfi Coast Road – Hell 

by midgeguerrera, posted in Stops Along the Journey - Sites Off the Tourist Track

NOOOOOO, I screamed as we rounded a tight curve and a gaggle of tourists on motor scooters aimed right at us.  Clutching the grab bar above the door, I pleaded with Jack to slow down.  “I’m in first gear,” he said through gritted teeth.


The road we were on is famous for its S curves, beautful view of the Mediterranean and instant death if  your car careens off the edge a million feet above the sea.  It is August – tourists from everywhere love the coast.

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Millions converge on those idyllic towns that make up what we all think of as the Amalfi Coast.  Love the crush of umbrellas and bronzed bodies.  Watch where you walk.  Eyes back on the road.  Too many cars on a long and windy road. LOOK OUT!  Notice the height of the guard rail. Notice the dents in the rocky mountain wall.

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I hated every bloody minute we wended our way from Salerno to Amalfi.  I hate heights – roads closer to the clouds then earth – roads made for donkeys not cars. It was only to help Alanna, the daughter of our dear friends Jeff and Sue Jamieson, find her Italian roots that I would drive on this *&^%&%&& highway.  Did I say “hate”?  That isn’t a strong enough word to describe how I feel about the Amalfi Highway. Sue owes me a bottle of single malt scotch. I almost lost an arm against the mountain wall snapping a picture of her cognome.

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When we landed in Amalfi – I do mean landed – I kissed the ground. Oh shit, there is no other way back to the highway but through Salerno.  After searching for Alanna’s Cavaliere ancestors we had to go back on the same narrow death defying road.  Have I mentioned the trucks and buses that get stuck and how a line of cars had to back up?


Have I mentioned the assholes on scooters who weave in and out. Have I mentioned how much I hate this road?

Travel recommendation – stay away in August !

Amalfi Coast – Bella vista!  Buy the postcard or go in January.

Ci vediamo!

Alanna’s Amalfi Roots

by midgeguerrera, posted in Finding My Family - Genealogy

Alanna Jamieson stayed with Jack and I for a week or so.  Her journey toward new beginnings for herself had her thinking about her heritage.  Being a heritage junkie, I was delighted to help out and we enlisted Jack as our noble driver during the worst time of the year to drive the Amalfi coast.  We headed from the hills of Pontelandolfo to the the Commune of Amalfi Coastiera. If you didn’t read this – READ IT NOW! Amalfi Coast – Road of HELL!

Here is Alanna’s story:

Searching for Cavaliere

By Alanna Jamieson

I am very close to both sides of my family. However, for me, that family had extended only to my cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents who all live in the U.S., within New Jersey and Connecticut. I had always proudly identified my heritage as “100% American”, involving a diverse mix of U.K., French, German, Slovakian, and Italian nationalities. On my mother’s side, I am the third generation born in the U.S., and on dad’s side, I am in fact eligible for the Daughters of the (American) Revolution historical society.

The past four months of my life have involved several major transitions, which have found me cutting ties, widening my eyes, and (as cliché as it may sound) exploring Europe with only a carry-on suitcase and a 24-hour plan at any given time. When Midge and Jack invited me to visit them in Pontelandolfo, the decision was a no-brainer. I immediately jumped at the opportunity to spend some time in a beautiful, small Italian town with warm people and wonderful food. I also knew that Midge had spent years and countless hours researching her Italian family’s history, learning their language, and absorbing their culture. Sure enough, when I arrived in Italy, Midge enthusiastically offered to help me see what roots of my own Italian ancestors we could uncover, in nearby Amalfi.

This foreword is what led us to that winding road on the Amalfi Coast – some call it terrifying, some call it exciting, and excited is exactly how I felt! When we arrived in Amalfi, we easily found the Municipio (town hall), and inside we were greeted by a cheerful and bright-eyed woman named Angela Petrillo.

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Cavalieri Found on a Road Sign

We stated our purpose: I was interested in learning more about my Italian family, the Cavalieres. Upon hearing this, Angela smiled; Cavaliere is evidently a very common name in Amalfi, so our task would be to determine which Cavalieres in the Municipio records were my direct relatives. Luckily for me, my Cavaliere grandparents from Connecticut had created a detailed family tree and had even visited the Amalfi Municipio themselves.

After Angela and Midge exchanged a few more words in Italian, I nervously presented Angela with my family tree information, not sure what to expect and feeling grateful that Midge was there to translate and guide me. Angela expertly scanned the details and then whisked away out of the room to retrieve the records we sought. As we waited for her to return, I also felt relieved that Midge had taught me the proper way to say ‘Cavaliere’. My family pronounces it ‘caah-vuh-leer’, whereas in Amalfi it would be pronounced ‘caah-vuh-lee-air-ayy’ (spoken quickly). I might not speak Italian, but at least I could say my own family’s name as it would have been pronounced before its anglification adjustment on Ellis Island!

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Angela Petrillo and Alanna Peered Through Ancient Records

A minute later Angela reappeared with several old records books that dated back to the early 1800s. As she flipped through the book, I noted how yellowed the pages were and how frayed the edges had become, and I realized where I was standing, in both time and place. My family members had stood in this very building, holding these same books, listening to the waves wash against the sand on the beach outside the window. Like me, these people had hopes and dreams and joys and sorrows. They had cherished their past and looked forward to new opportunities, just as I am doing now in my own life. As these thoughts swirled in my mind, Angela stopped turning the book’s pages and pointed to a point halfway down it, showing us the name “Francisco Cavaliere”, my great-grandfather. The record showed the full details of his birth. At the bottom of the page were signatures of names we didn’t recognize. Angela explained that this was because Francisco’s father couldn’t write, not even to sign his own name on his son’s birth record.


We spent the next 20 minutes looking through the records, uncovering additional names, dates, and details. One member of my family, we discovered, was a midwife. Many of them were farm laborers who worked on others’ properties in exchange for perhaps currency, housing, or goods. The whole process was fascinating, sometimes even more so when we hit a dead end with a particular individual; for example, we discovered that Francisco’s mother was not born in Amalfi. Angela told us that her maiden name suggested that she hailed from one of two neighboring towns, so we would have to visit those villages in order to continue researching her history.

As the conversation with Angela drew to a close, we thanked her profusely for her time, and I looked once more at Francisco’s birth record. Thirteen years after that document was signed, in 1911,”Frank” (as he came to be called) would travel to America with his family. As I realized this, I felt a sense of comfort and encouragement. If the Cavalieres and many others were brave enough to face 3,000 miles of ocean and a strange new country where they didn’t know the language, surely I can face the unknowns that lay before me.

As we left the Municipio to start our journey home, I looked up at the Amalfi cliffs that meet the Mediterranean Sea. Today, the hillside is filled with homes, and the coastal road was packed with vendors, cars and tourists. As I stood there, it was easy to imagine the view 100 years prior, with 75% of the clutter gone, as it looked when my farmer ancestors lived there. They had adapted to the terrain, and then to a new life in America. With a vow to myself to keep their sense of perseverance and adventure close at heart, we started the long drive home, tired but happy.

Thank you Alanna Jamieson for sharing your search.

Home Made Grape Juice – Better Than Welch’s!

by midgeguerrera, posted in Food - Eating In and Out!

We all know the adage – when the world hands you lemons, make lemonade.  How about when the world hands you crates of grapes? The grapes I’m talking about aren’t wine grapes. These are the yummy off the vine eating grapes. Zia Vittoria brought us some direct from the vine to taste. 

  
 They were super yummy and I thanked her profusely.  The next day a crate of them appeared.  I know, I know be careful what you wish for. Even though we had a house guest, I knew there was no way we could eat all those grapes. What’s a woman to do?  Where the world hands you …

First stop, the internet – grape juice recipes.  Nah, we don’t add sugar to anything. Next. Nah, I’m not going to upstate NY for Concord grapes. Next.  How about asking around town? First folks looked at me like I was crazy – they’re fresh, eat the grapes.  Then a wise woman said, smash, boil, strain.  Damn, I can do that and I did – delicious and tons better than Welch’s.

Here is the recipe – since the only ingredient is grapes it’s more like steps.

1. Pick grapes that no one has sprayed cocky poopy chemicals on or genetically modified.  You are wrong you naysayer you, produce like that is still out there.  Here in the no spray land of good eating we have lots of grapes “au naturel.” They can also be found in the backyards of any of your relatives who sit in the shade of the vines growing over the trellis.  Take scissors with you and pick bunches.

2. Fill the sink with water and toss them in and swirl them around.

  
3 Put them in a scuolapasta and drain them. Notice the little worms and buggy things running around.  They seem to come to life in the water. Ditch them and remember no spray means happy bugs.

4. Hold each bunch by the stem and pick off the grapes.  I then tossed them in a second colander. We don’t want the ones the birds pecked or the shriveled ones. Just toss in the firm ones. I even tossed on the tiny ones.

5. Rinse off the grapes and dump them in a big pot. Take your potato masher and mash the hell out of them.  I didn’t have a potato masher and had a Lucille Ball fun time.  Not my feet – my hands!  I pummeled and squished and pounded and squashed.  Juice squirted me the pot and the counter.  I finally broke down and bought a potato masher and tried to use it for the second batch of juice.  It was easier to use my hands and much more pleasurable.

  
6. DO NOT add anything!  Put the covered pot on the stove over a low flame until it starts to boil.  Then simmer it while you have a glass of wine and gossip with a pal. I of course forgot about it and think it simmered for 15 minutes plus a bit.

7. Take something heavy and squish some more – it is easier to squash hot grapes.  The second time I did this I used a newly purchased potato masher to do the second squash.

8. Simmer until you are bored – I think I did it for another 5-10 minutes.

9. Line a colander with cheese cloth and set it over a big bowl or pot.  I couldn’t find cheese cloth here and tried a bunch of places.  My ever creative and brilliant cousin Carmella suggested gauze from the pharmacy.  They had sterile gauze and it worked.

10. Pour the batch of grapes in the colander and cover the colander with a towel or something while it drips for a few hours.  No, you must really cover the colander – why?  Flies love piles of icky sweet stuff.  After a few hours – how many?  Well, we went to the piazza for drinks, chatted with friends, had dinner then I remembered the grapes.  Quite a few hours later, I picked up the edges of the gauze and squeezed the rest of the juice out of the cooked grapes.  Yes, I used my hands again to twist the fabric – like wringing out clothes – and squeezed out every drop.

11. Pour the yummy juice in bottles, refrigerate and drink.  We tried it the next morning and couldn’t believe how good it tasted.  Hmmm  Hmmm Good!

Happy Grape Juicing!

Bank of America Fees Take A Big Bite Out of Vacations.

by midgeguerrera, posted in Practical Matters - Living Abroad

My advice – if you are going to Europe anytime soon –  don’t leave home with a Bank of America card in your wallet.

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In the spirit of openness and full disclosure I must say that I own stock in Bank of America – it is in the toilette but I still own it.  That said, I do not use any Bank of America products – and based on these two harrowing tales, I’m glad I don’t.  All the Bank of America fees that I talk about – and I will really bitch about them – can be checked at https://www.bankofamerica.com/deposits/resources/personal-schedule-fees.go

Tale 1:  Maryellen Mistakingly Trusts Local Bank of America Personnel.

Before she crossed the Atlantic and started her exploration of Rome and Pontelandolfo, my cousin did everything right.  She went to her local Bank of America branch and explained she was going to Italy for two weeks.  She asked what she needed to take with her to easily access her cash.  We had talked about this and I told her to make sure she asked about all the fees her bank might charge.  After her chat, she called me all excited – Bank of America has a list of banks in Europe and with her brand new ATM card she wouldn’t get hit with the $5 transaction fee!  Weeooo.

The non-Bank of America ATM fees do not apply at some ATMs located outside the United States. Call us before you travel internationally for current information about banks participating in the program. She did.

The BoA branch staff also convinced her to get a super duper new Travel Rewards credit card.  They swore she could use it everywhere.  It had no foreign transaction fee and she could use it at an ATM machine – however it cost an arm and two legs – ATM, Over-the-Counter, Same-Day Online and Cash Equivalent Cash Advances: Either $10 or 5% of the amount of each transaction, whichever is greater.  Oh yeah – pay it back right away because the interest on a cash advance is 24.99%.  Sheeeeet mon!

OK, OK – you want me to tell her story – here it is – Maryellen promptly discovered that she could not use her ATM card at the Bancomat machine in Pontelandolfo, or the one in Morcone or the one freaking anywhere!!!!  She did have that lovely list of participating banks and none of them were within days of where we live in Italy.  So now she has no Euro and no access to her account.  H’mm, there must be another way – she’ll use her Travel Rewards Card and pay the usurious 5% and get a bunch of Euro.  What?  That card doesn’t work here either??????  We called Bank of America – frankly, I grabbed the phone and put on my advocate voice.  The officious twit said – “oh you’re not in Rome or a major city”? – excuse me, since when did banks only consider the tourist meccas and not the towns of us common folk?  She also explained that many Bancomats only worked with debit cards – not ATM cards.  What?  The less than informed or inadequately trained – I want to say to stupid to live but Jack says this is rude – so I will not say it – person in the Hillsborough Branch of Bank of America specifically signed my cousin up for an ATM card.  ERRRRRGGGGGGG.  What is the poor woman to do?  She borrowed the money from her son – see his debit card worked.  Bottom line – I hope she ditches BoA.

I know what you are thinking – “why the hell didn’t she just use her credit card?”  This is a very small town in Southern Italy – hardly anyone takes a credit card!!!!  It isn’t Princeton where a kid can flip out a debit card for a $3 coffee.  A cappuccino here costs .90 and not one of the four bars take credit/debit cards.  The only place in town that takes credit cards is the fabulous Landulphi – a great pub-restaurant.  Actually, lots of people don’t have or ever use credit cards.  It is a cash economy.  Make sure you know where you are going and if credit cards are widely accepted.

Tale 2: Alanna Gets Hit with 3%

True, Alanna’s tale is not as horrific as Maryellen’s but damn – who needs to pay 3% plus the $5 foreign ATM fee just to get Euro?  Alanna showed up at my door and asked where the Bancomat was.  Just for the hell of it I asked her who her bank was – when she said the evil Bank of America I fainted.  She knew what it would cost her for money – that was a good thing. The bad thing was she didn’t switch banks before she left. I told her to call and see if she could get the fee waived – she just spent two weeks working on a house through Habitat for Humanity in Portugal and Bank of America ought to commend her for that. We’ll see if that pitch works – if not my Paypal account will be richer and I’ll gather Euro for her.

I just checked my TD Bank statement – $3 to use a foreign ATM machine.  There is no percentage on top and no Euro conversion fee.  Was it always smooth sailing?  No, I always call and say “this is where I’ll be for the next 6 months.”  Once, the computer ate the advisory or the person entering the information fell asleep at the keyboard.  I’ve just called from where-ever I was and got instant access.

The Debit card that I cannot get to work anywhere in Italy is the one I have attached to my brokerage account at RBCDainRoucher.  I tried at a variety of Bancomats last year, called RBC and just plain gave up.

The bottom line?  Check, double check and re-check the fees and usability of your debit card.  Also really take a peek at your credit cards – make sure they do not charge a foreign transaction fee.  I use Capital One because they do not and I get travel miles.  We never used our American Express Card because they did – as of this summer they are changing their policy.

Also understand the economic reality of where you are going.  We hate tourist crammed places and know that small villages have been bartering and using cash for ages – credit cards?  Leave home without them.

Be prepared and have a great trip.

Ci Vediamo!

Culture Clashes – The Good and the Not So Good

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo

This is not a rant.  I am not in a foul and ugly mood.  It is just that after a while I can no longer hold my tongue.  Some things in Italy annoy me.

Kids and Cars –

Everyone out there who is as old as I am can remember the fun filled roll around in the back seat time before mandatory seat belts.  Clean it up, I’m talking about being a kid and not buckled into your assigned third of the seat.  As toddlers we would stand on the back seat of the car peering out the back window, sticking our tongues out at the drivers behind us.  Or hanging out the side window and giving trucks the arm pull down signal for tooting their big horn – then getting yelled out for sticking our heads out.  When  you were about 4,can you remember sitting on your dad’s lap and “driving the car” ?  How about those fun filled times riding in the back of the pick up truck.  Sitting on the edge of the truck bed and balancing as the wind whipped your face.  Then there was the piece of plywood my father had cut to fit the back seat of the car that my mom tossed pillows on.  it was an instant bed for long drives.  So what if the car flipped and we flopped around.  Somehow we all survived and made it to – well whatever age we are.  Then someone started keeping data on folks killed in cars.  A lot of them and many because they weren’t buckled in.  Safety first!  Seat belts save lives!  Well, where car safety is concerned, here in Southern Italy it is kind of like 1955 .  I see toddlers standing on front seats – wheeee – you can really see out the window.  Now, not all parents do that – I have seen kids buckled up for safety.  Frankly though, I see more standing on seats and hardly ever see a car seat.  Someone lovingly holds all the wee ones.  The absolute worse thing I saw was in Puglia – a helmetless tiny tyke on the back of a giant motor cycle clutching dad’s shirt as they sped through town.  Jack pointed out the kid was smiling and I was the only one having a hissy-fit.  Apparently, according to Jack, I am often the only one having a hissy-fit.   Is this car riding freedom a good thing or a not so good thing?  You decide.

You Can Dress Them Up But You Can’t Shut Them Up –

This is the second year that Comicron,  the fabulous  international comic short film festival was staged in Piazza Roma.  Artisitic Director, Ugo Gregoretti spent his younger days summering in Pontelandolfo.  It is a classy event, from the red carpet, the film stars attending, the beautifully appointed stage, to the well dressed folks sitting in the cordoned off area.  We got there a tad late and sat in the back behind the incredibly well dressed Antonetta.  She had on a fabulous long silky blue gown and dingle dangle sparkly jewelry.  How did I know her name was Antonetta?  Her pals got there later than we did and during a film bellowed ANTONETTA.  She leaped from her seat and five dapperly dressed donne chatted in the aisle next to us.  My evil eye and shushing had no effect.  Of course the young ushers also occiasionaly chit chatted in the aisle.  Jack said I am the only one it bothers and I should get over it – do you sense a “get over it” theme here?  This is not the only time chatty chicks bothered the hell out of me.  The first time I got so insensed I asked them to be quiet – the performers deserved respect.  Who were the performers?  Primary school kids! The moms in the audience felt compelled to share their shopping lists, lover’s names and whatever was on their minds  throughout the performance.   The only time they were quiet was when they were snapping pictures of their own kid on stage.  Che fa!  Is freedom of speech whenever and wherever you want to talk a good thing or a not so good thing?  You decide.

What Time Does It Start?

The producer/director in me gnashes teeth and is ready to kill when the advertised time of events are absolutely ignored.  My theory is the lack of timeliness is taught in the elementary school.  Case in point.  A few years back I went to the primary school’s end of  year show.  It was slated to start at 3:00.  Parents who worked left work early to get there by 2:00 to join the non working parents and thier toddlers in line.  Why so early?  Well audience consideration is not taught in the school either – there were not enough seats for all the parents.  People got  there early to grab a seat.  It was a hot June afternoon.  By three, standing outside the school in the sun I was drenched in sweat.  By three-thirty, I was drenched in hate and wondering why the bloody doors hadn’t opened.  We could hear the kids still rehearsing.  Hey teachers, if you don’t have it ready by now give it up.  They let us in at about 3:35.  Everyone scrambled for a seat or wall and the spectacular finally began about ten minutes later. (Don’t get me started on the production values.)  

The team that produces the events in the piazza and/or the acts they hire seem to have lost their watches too.  This year the August festaval headliner, jazzman James Senese was promoted as starting at 10:00.  At 9:30 I’m nagging Jack to get a move on so we can get to the village  before the show starts.  Jack raised an eyebrow and said , “it will start at 11:00.”  We got to the piazza a bit before  10:00 and there wasn’t any crowd.  Sitting at a table at Bar Mixed Fantasy, Jack told me to look behind me.  I did and there sat the roadies for Senese eating sausage sandwhiches at 10:00 PM.  No one was on the stage.  At about 10:45 things started to wake up and crowds started to form in front of the stage.  Somehow they knew  when the show would start.  Son of a witch, Jack was right – the show started at 11:00.  Cripes, maybe I am an Ugly American with my own expectances and Jersey girl angst.  Jack, ever living his theme with me said, ” Midge, this is Italia, get over it.”   I must say, I have never gone to events in Northern Italy – except the opera in Verona and that started about 10 minutes late – so I don’t know if tardieness is just a southern thing or universal.   In the scheme of life does timeliness really matter?  Is timeliness – or the lack thereof – a good thing or a not so good thing? You decide.

Those of you who live in or visit Italy or simply have an opinion – please join the conversation.  You decide!

Ci vediamo .  Thanks for listening.

Forum Giovani – The Young Producers

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo

Forum Giovani

Over the years I watched the young people of Potelandolfo produce theatrical events, calcio tournaments, festas and more.  I knew there was something called Forum Giovani but I didn’t really get what it was.  I’m thinking like Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney – a couple of kids get togther and make stuff happen.  You will not believe this – because it sure doesn’t happen in New Jersey – but the region and or Italia  gives each town a stipend of €2,500 earmarked for Forum Giovani. The teens to early twenty-somethings, that choose to be involved in the group, use this as seed money to produce events.  This is a really good thing!

The forum has a two room office that they use for meetings.  The commune provides the office, computer and furniture.  They only call meetings when they need them. Smart huh – no mandatory monthly BS.  Now, just what do these kids do with that money???

You conservatives out there need to stop thinking of it as a socialisitic handout.  The money is used for administrative overhead – paper, pens, ink for the printer, light bulbs etc. It really is seed money – watch those dollars and young entrepreneurs grow.  Having the administrative bills paid for all their energy goes into raising capital for events. A prime example is the Beer Festival that was organized and produced by Forum Giovani Pontelandolfo.

In order to produce a large community wide event, the kids had to develop and demonstrate a good arts administration skill set.  I know about that stuff – I did it and taught it.  These kids learned experientially, which to my mind is the absolute best way.

Here’s what this professoressa obserserved – the kids had the ability to:

  1. Raise adequate funds to underwrite the event by approaching and acquiring 20 sponsors.  Not an easy feat during the South’s economic crisis.  Ask and you shall receive – Fundraising 101. Thank you to all of the sponsors.
  2. Design and destribute great marketing material – the uber talented Valerio Mancini did the art work.  We know it worked because the place was packed.
  3. Negotiate with venders – some of whom were sponsors – for great deals on beer, sausages and all the trimmings. Set prices to cover costs and create a profit center.
  4. Rent a stage and organize the set up of the lights and sound. It helps that one of the areas largest tech theater companies is owned by a Pontelandolfese!
  5. Set up Ex-calcetto Nero ( a big open space) to insure that there were enough tables and refreshment stations.  All borrowed from Pro Loco Santa Croce – networking really works.
  6. Create two nights worth of activities and entertainment.  They hired the home town favorite – Ri Ualanegli – the dance company is huge and has a huge following. Night two featured The Dish Rock Band – also local and with a following. PR 101 –  hire groups with lots of performers and/following – guaranteed audience that buys your beer and sausages.
  7. Handle budgeting and fiscal accountablity – note there was never just one person by the money boxes.  Which was kind of cute as one person took money and the second gave you your beer or food tickets.  Well the boys were cute – the wait while they tore the tickets not so cute.

Was it all wonderful – nah they forgot to precook sausages and the wait for a sausage sandwhich was a three beer wait. – Hmmm – maybe that was the plan.  Also, they didn’t organize traffic well by the food and drink.  Did they learn – you bet.

But enough of my academic chatter – lets see what they have to say.

Sushi Ruyi – Marina di Vasto

by midgeguerrera, posted in Food - Eating In and Out!

  
Be still my heart! Could this be true?  In this city of high-rise hotels that serve three mediocre meals a day we actually found incredible Chinese food and yes yummy yummy sushi.  Sushi Ruyi was a beacon on a dark and stormy night. OK, it was a clear and hot night but you get my drift. 

Our hotel, as all the hotels here, offers a fixed price three meals a day plan. Jack and I prefer to eat in local, family-owned restaurants and forgo the typical tourist fare. What we didn’t know was that there were hardly any restaurants in Marina di Vasto. At least none we could walk to. We hopped in the car and started driving. Restaurant sign after sign affixed to hotels. Then we spotted our favorite word “sushi”. We parked and ran before the mirage disappeared. 

Night one – yes there was a night two- we opted for only sushi. The restaurant offers Japanese, Chinese and Thai fares. The fish was fresh and the prices fair. We had tuna, salmon and a giant roll. I didn’t take any photos. – we gobbled too quickly. Then we tried something new – sushi barca. Two pieces for €6. Steep Price for sushi until we saw the size. No way you could put this in your mouth with one gentle gulp. The amount of rice was very large and an incredible amount of salmon was sculpted around it in the shape of a boat. Complete with little mast. It was worth the price and we ate it slowly savoring every bit of the salmon. Of course we sushi gluttons also ordered sushi barca di tonno. With sake and wine the cost was €55.

Day Two – Chinese 

Jack said ” this is better than any of the Chinese food within 50 miles of Flagtown.”  We started with fried wontons. They were deep fried crispy and I chastised Jack for ordering them. They weren’t special except for the piece of pork in the center. Jack liked them drizzled with hot oil. I had ordered ravioli vaporato- steamed dumplings. We didn’t get any dipping sauce and these did not need anything. They were filled with delicately seasoned pork. 

In the name of science, we both ordered soups. Jack – hot and spicy. Me – corn and chicken. Both broths were obviously homemade – no salty canned chicken stock here. Scrumptious. 

The Mai Fun – Spaghetti di riso curry con vedure was perfect.  No stuck together glob of rice noodles- it was fragrant and airy. 

I could go on and on but it is making me hungry. Just suffice it to know that if you are in southern Italy and jonesing for sushi or Chinese food you should head to Marino di Vasto. 

  

Genealogy Hint 1 – Start with your Family!

by midgeguerrera, posted in Finding My Family - Genealogy
Dear Readers,

richedit2I’ve got GREAT news!  Genealogist Rich Venezia has volunteered to share his knowledge with us.  OK that is a lie, I asked him.  There is now a tab at the top of the blog that says “Genealogy”.  If you open that tab – in the future – any information we get from Rich will be posted there.  There will be easy links to articles.

Midge

Genealogy Hint 1 by Rich Venezia

Buon giorno a tutti!  I couldn’t say no to Midge (how could I?) and am happy to share my passion for genealogy with all of you. Here is the first installment of Researching with Rich.

My first, and arguably most important, research tip – whether you are a novice or experienced researcher – is to interview your family members! Whip out your steno pad! Does anyone even use those anymore? Grab your tape recorder (or your phone), and get cracking! It’s really best to start with your older relatives – they’ll have one or two or three generations more knowledge than others. Moreover, you never know how much longer 95-year-old Aunt Tillie will be around. If you haven’t already gathered DNA from your relatives, when you interview them is a great time to start! But that’s another blog post entirely…

A number of key reasons to interview your elderly relatives –

  • Their stories, memories, and knowledge perish with them, unless they have taken the time to write or record them, or they have been written or recorded by someone else. Here’s looking at you, dear genealogist.
  • They may have personally known some of the people who you are researching or need to research. Now, you can have a first-hand account of your great-great-grandfather, who up till this point, only existed for you in census records and a few old photos. Nothing beats that.
  • Even if their information is wrong, it’s often half-true. My great-grandmother always said she was from Naples. Was she from Naples? No – but she was from a village less than an hour outside of Naples. No, of course it wasn’t in the province of Napoli… you can’t win ‘em all! At least this gives you a place to start.
We still have the original!
We still have the original!
  • They may know who is the keeper of the stuff or they may be so themselves. The old photos, passports, identity documents, and certificates of naturalization – these all-important documents were likely passed down to one child or another. Perhaps your relative can help you pin down who has the documents you want. Borrow it and scan it so you can digitize your history for the rest of your family. And remember to return the items that you borrow!
  • Elders may be able to tell you tales that hadn’t previously been told to younger generations… Just the other day, I told a story about my great-great-grandmother’s arrival in the US to my father. It was told to me by my great-grand-aunt (who turned 100 this week!) and he had never heard it before. Apparently great-great-grandmother was pregnant with my great-grand-aunt (another one), and faced some issues when entering because of this… she threatened to throw herself in the river if they deported her. Needless to say, she stayed out of the water!

Professional Hint – don’t forget to bring the sfogliatelle or pizzelles.

The following tale is the reason I implore you to ask where the old documents may be hidden or stored away. My parents and I were cleaning out the garage last summer, and Dad pulls out a box and tells me he’d been meaning to give it to me. Inside was my great-grandfather and great-grandmother’s original certificates of naturalization (1923 and 1944), original certificate of marriage (1919), my great-grandmother’s Italian certificate of birth (obtained in 1966), and information on my great-grandfather’s burial (1940). I’d been the de facto family historian for eleven years at this point – and a professional genealogist for a year. I knew all this information already – but it would have been helpful to have it handed to me years ago! The documents would have saved me a lot of time. In Dad’s defense, I never asked – so I never received. Ask where the stuff is – and you may well be rewarded.

And while you’re bugging them about the memorabilia – and especially if they get cranky since you’ve already asked 5 times – tell them why you want the stuff and the subjects of said stuff. Everyone in the family will benefit from your research!

Great Grandma G

Inquire about their recollections of specific ancestors. Bring out an old photo you found and ask if they remember that person, or show them an obituary or a document that may trigger some memories. Organize your questions – this is an interview but it should be fun! And a tip – you can use the same set of questions for different relatives… but make sure to keep who’s who straight! Some folks videotape the interviews – this is also a terrific way to share the stories.

Some examples of questions you may wish to ask your relatives (or a few to start with):

  • Where are your grandparents buried?
  • Did your Grandma and Grandpa ever say where they were born?
  • Do you have a little book with everyone’s birthday and anniversary?
  • Do you remember what your Grandpa and Grandma were like?
  • What church/synagogue did you go to as a child?
  • What was the special dish your family cooked for holidays?
  • At whose house did your family celebrate big events? Who was there?
  • Am I your favorite niece/nephew? – JUST KIDDING!

Family history is all about that – family. You never know what will turn up – and that’s part of the beauty of it.

Rich Venezia is a professional genealogist based in Pittsburgh, PA. He specializes in Italian, Irish, and immigrant ancestry, and NJ/NYC and Pittsburgh-area research. He has worked on two genealogy TV shows (including PBS’ “Genealogy Roadshow”) and is available for client research and speaking engagements. His website can be found at richroots.net and he can be reached at richvenezia@gmail.com. He adores Midge and her blog, and is so thrilled to be dropping in. A presto!