Final Push – Elections in Pontelandolfo

by midgeguerrera, posted in Politics - Quirky Aside

THIRTY DAYS!  A scant 30 days to tell the world you are running for office!  How bloody civilized!  In the USA the campaign season never ends.  One election is over and the slow news channels start tossing names to the wind for the next series of elections.  Here, candidates by law have exactly 30 (THIRTY) days to pitch themselves.  Friends of ours who are ex-pats in Ecuador told me the same rule applies there.  Thirty days to tell us about yourself.  if you can’t make a pitch in 30 days you shouldn’t be pitching.The concept was a little unnerving for me – especially on the 2 (TWO) election days.  There was no little job I could do.  No elderly folks to drive to the polls.  No bars to roll drunks out of.  No cemeteries to pull names off of.  Damn, what is a Jersey Girl supposed to do?  Well, what everyone else did.  Go vote!

Standing, waiting, and watching.
Standing, waiting, and watching.

Candidates stood together chatting as a team in front of the polling places  – even Ripley would not believe this – candidates did not approach a single voter!  They didn’t toss a palm card at them or kiss their kids!  But I am getting ahead of myself.  Let’s talk about the last few of those thirty days.

The “list” that we were following did continue it’s door to door press.  “Facsimile” ballots were distributed with an X through the right circle.  Yes, I will admit I carried mine into the polling place with me.  They also reminded people to come to the piazza  on the Friday night before the Sunday election.  You heard me – SUNDAY – the polls were open from 8:00 AM until 10:00 PM.  Monday they were open from 8:00 AM until 3:00 PM.  Friday night was the last legal night to campaign.  Saturday was the day when people were to think about what they heard, reflect and get ready to vote on Sunday.  Now, can I attest that no one campaigned  – nah – and neither would you !  I will tell you that the candidate that I knew best was home with her family on Saturday and insisted there was no campaigning.

Friday night I went to the piazza not knowing what to expect.  A balcony above the square had a sound system, electronic keyboard and podium.  The posters of the first list were up.  It was drizzling and I thought who but the crazy American is going to stand in the rain, stare up at a balcony and listen to a bunch of politicians.  The whole village – that’s who!  Initially only a few cars pulled into the piazza and folks parked with the front windows facing the balcony.

Drive in electioneering!
Drive in electioneering!

An hour later the entire piazza was a drive in movie.  Cars faced the show, windows down to hear the speeches and moms running out to get pizza and drinks to go.  When the rain let up, people got out of their cars.  If they liked what they heard they honked and cheered!  This is a community that is totally involved in the political system.  Enough words – check out the video.

Going for the early and often motif – I voted on Sunday.  Clutching my certificate of eligibility to vote, I went into the school, found my district, handed in my certificate only to have an election worker stare at it, stare at me and demand my “documents”.  I had no freakin’ idea what that meant but luckily had my italian passport on me.  I handed it over, assumed an arrogant posture, and watched as the dude stared at my picture and stared at me.  Finally, with a humpf he said fine.  I signed in, was given a pencil and a paper ballot.  I went to the two foot high cubical, put my X on the circle, wrote in Mancini, folded the ballot and stuffed it in the ballot box!  Yeah, how cool is that, you actually get to stuff  a ballot box.   By the end of  a rainy Sunday about one-third of the eligible voters had voted.   About fifty-one percent  of eligible voters ultimately turned out. Can you imagine!  This was an off cycle election and people actually came out!

Monday, I had to do something.  It is impossible to just sit out an election.  So I wandered down to the polling place to watch the counting of the ballots.  In front of a crowd, each ballot is pulled out, shown to the room, the Sindaco’s name read and the consigliere’s name read.  Those names are marked and the ballot is put aside.  That means that political organizations can keep an accurate tally too.  No hanging chads here – just a big X.  I got bored after a while because doing show and tell with a couple thousands sheets of paper takes a lot longer than reading numbers off the back of a machine.  To see the final results read the numbers in the Pontelandolfo News.  http://www.pontelandolfonews.com/index.php?id=3357

A few days after the election I noticed new political posters going up.  What in the hell is this?  The election was over.  They were giant thank you notes.  Whether a ticket won or lost they thanked the voters.  Now, how nice it that!  Take heed American politicians there are lessons to be learned here.

Even though we lost we are considerate enough to say thank you!
Even though we lost we are considerate enough to say thank you!
Thank you! Thank you!
Thank you! Thank you!

People Vote for People – Politicking Pontelandolfo Style

by midgeguerrera, posted in Politics - Quirky Aside

I can’t really talk about politics without talking about the one guy who understood it best, made sure I understood it and got frustrated as hell when newbies to the process refused to listen.  Good old “Johhny G”, my dad Giovanni Francesco Guerrera, was a politician in the grand style of  former speaker  of the House of Representatives – Tip O’Neill.  “People vote for people.”  “All politics are local!” Those are the clear cut salient facts that my dad foisted upon me at a tender age.  Dad was one of the men who moved Hillsborough Township into the 2oth century.  He was Mayor and on the Township Committee for numerous terms in the 60’s and 70’s.  He was always involved in local, state and national campaigns – sending me to represent him once to a meeting in the Jimmy Carter Whitehouse – but that is another story.  His passion for politics was learned at his daddy’s knee – Pontelandolfo’s Francesco Guerrera.  My nonno, with other Italian immigrants, started Hillsborough’s Democratic Organization!  Whoops – let’s get back to today and personal politics.

Dad's head shot for a State Senate Run.
Dad’s head shot for a State Senate Run.

Yeah, yeah, we all care about issues, platforms, programs etc.  But the reality is, if you are my friend and I ask you to vote for me you will.   Just like we buy candy from our friends kids to support organizations we don’t particularly agree with – for me it is the Boy Scouts.  I hate the politics of the Boy Scouts but love the kids in my extended family who pound on my door in cub scout costumes – I mean uniforms selling candy.  So ethics be damned, I buy the candy.  See – people buy from people.

Daddy always said the way to win an election is like pyramid marketing – you get a core of folks who adore you for whatever reason – and get them to contact and pitch you to the friends who adore them for whatever reason.  People respond to people.

National and domestic issues are important but how does that break down to me, my family and my home town? Now you get it – think local.  Well, politics in Pontelandolfo is about as local centric as you can get.  It is time for me to stop thinking about my larger than life political pappa and tell you about Pontelandolfo.

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X marks the Sindaco circle!

The candidates actually go from house to house and talk to people!  How amazing!  No robo calls here just house calls.  That means you need a strong bladder, because at every house you have a caffè and conversation.  What really amazed me is that people actually told you if they would vote for you or not!  Having lived in Asbury Park, where if everyone who swore they voted for me really had I would have been Queen for a day, I was amazed that folks might actually deign to tell the truth.  “Hey, you’re my pal and I love you but I don’t like the guy at the top of your ticket so – sorry no can do!”  Remember from my earlier post, you vote for the Sindaco (mayor) and then write in one name from his ticket to be your choice for consigliere (council).  Check out the sample ballot – put an X in the circle for the Sindaco and write in one name. ( I did discover later that some folks had indeed told a wee lie to my cousin and really didn’t vote for her – but that was an anomaly.)

Lots of cars in the piazza means lots of folks are gathering in shops and the bars (cafés).
Lots of cars in the piazza means lots of folks are gathering in shops and the bars (cafés).

What people were talking about in the bars and around the piazza were the local problems that the commune has.  Some of these issues are indeed national – like there are no jobs for young people.  Others are very local and personal. This is beautiful village and yet some folks are dumping their garbage and nothing is being done to clean it up.  The elderly often can’t subsist on their incomes and something must be done to provide local support – or to petition the province for help.  The local library was something I witnessed and heard “Rocomincio Da Te” candidates talk about.  It needs books!  It needs to be perked up and better utilized.  Programs for young people are always an issue.  Are sports enough?  Should the commune increase arts based programs?  Each list of candidates distributed their platforms and spoke about issues like these.

Technology is not totally ignored in this very personal approach to campaigning.  Cars are outfitted with speakers and festooned with campaign posters.  A pre-recorded “Vote for XXXXX,” and  “Vote for the (insert name of ticket” could be heard blaring up and down the streets and barely streets of the country side.  At first I was taken aback – whoa is that an obnoxious gelato truck?  Well, there is no obnoxious gelato truck – what a gift that would be – but campaign aides rousing the voters.  The second time I heard it I went out on our balcony to see which ticket it was.  It was the one I was voting for so I waved and cheered.  Does the spirit good to see your team out and about.  Since Pontelandolfo has lots of small family farms and the families really are out working the fields and tending the animals, I could see the benefit of the mobile system.  Where I couldn’t see it was in bigger cities – where the blaring through the busy streets was constant.  If I lived in one I might be forced to wear earplugs or toss pomodori out the window.  Jack and I followed one rolling billboard and blaring sound system for about 20 minutes in a town that shall remain nameless.   Well – here see for yourself.

Collateral – Getting Out the Vote – Pontelandolfo Style!

by midgeguerrera, posted in Politics - Quirky Aside

Collateral (posters, yard signs, fliers and other printed stuff):

Tired of the blitz of campaign signs cluttering the highway?  Starting in August, do you hate going to your mail box stuffed with political name calling, back biting and substance-less tirades?  Then start spending election season in Pontelandolfo – of course it is not in November.  There may be some whispering and cajoling but there is no crush of collateral.  The placement of signage is regulated by the commune.  I first discovered this in Florence when I was teaching an arts administration course.  My students were doing some volunteer work for a theatre company.  The goal was to place small posters in as many shops as possible because large posters placed throughout the city had to be approved by the city, a fee paid per poster and – this is the best part – a city employee hung the posters!

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Equal billing for all!
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Only one poster counts.
VOTE MANCINI

When the political posters went up in Pontelandolfo I was surprised to see them all neatly mounted on stone walls adjacent to each other.  Each ticket was snugly posted next to another.  The posters are large and placed in only a few spots around town.  When I asked if the campaigns had to pay the commune, it was explained that political tickets don’t have to pay the posting tariff but the commune still approves the signs and hangs them.  What is truly amazing is that except for color the signs all look the same!  Ahhh a civil way to post those bills!  We still get to look at the beauty that is Pontelandolfo and not political signs flapping in the breeze.

This is the official sample ballot posted in town.
This is the official sample ballot posted in town.
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Candidate for Consigliere, Giuseppina Mancini.

Let’s talk about campaign literature – how the hell can we possibly call the scurrilous crap that fills American mailboxes “literature”?  Innuendoes coupled with pictures of politicians looking drunk, dead, demented.  Glamour shots merged with tales of perseverance, family and patriotism.  The only piece of campaign material that I saw was the Sindaco and List’s “programma” – their platform!  That is right – shake your head in disbelief  – an actual pamphlet that explained – not just 3 bullet points but explained – each plank.  The “Programma Di Governo” of the ticket called “Ricomincio Da Te”  included economics, jobs, environment, health, culture, education, police – well you get the point.  They actually wrote in complete sentences about issues that really matter – none of this “lower taxes” generic bullshit that I hear in Hillsborough, NJ.  This is my cousin Giusy Mancini’s ticket so we are prejudiced – openly and often.  The platform was explained and the pamphlet  handed out at an evening event in the village’s small theater.  I’ll bet over  200 potential voters turned out to hear the candidates and “brava” their support of the platform.  Note – the people had to come and pick up the collateral – no one was standing in front of the local grocery waving it at them.

The "Ricomincio Da Te" team just before the event.
The “Ricomincio Da Te” team just before the event.

The theater was absolutely packed – to the rafters really – well folks were hanging over the balcony.  When we got there a bunch of men were standing outside looking – well just looking.  It reminded me of the wild political days of the late 60’s when rooms were packed and the energy was high.  People listened, clapped or not, cheered or not and PICKED UP the one piece of literature!

In the spirit of honesty – yes I do have an honest bone or two in my body.  I must admit that in other towns in the area – much bigger cities – I did see not only more signs plastered on poles everywhere, but huge billboards on skinny trucks wending their way up cobblestone streets.

Pontelandolfo and Calcio – Perfect Together!

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo

I have to admit, sports and I have never been “Purrrrfect Together”.  In high school I went to football games and walked around flirting with boys – oh was there a game on?  First down – hut – uggh.  When I was a young teacher and recruiting boys to be in my musicals, I discovered that the boys who wrestled moved well and could be taught to dance, hence, I attended wrestling matches.  OK – so for two periods of my life I “went to a game, match, meet.”  Beyond that – niente, nada, nothing.  Then I got to Italy and discovered Calcio Mania in Pontelandolfo.

My introduction to calcio was in  2002.  Italia was in the World Cup!  I pretended I knew what that was – had no clue.  Here is what happened.

Part One:

It was a lazy afternoon in Pontelandolfo.  I was sitting at the kitchen table in our apartment reading when suddenly the piazza became a cacophony of sound.  The air was filled with screams, horns blaring, tears and sobs. Had terrorists bombed the Vatican?  Were the beaches at Anzio breached?  No, my husband calmly informed me.   Italia had tied their last world cup game.  That meant they were holding on to second place in their division.  That couldn’t be it – second place couldn’t cause this chaos.  I raced to the terrace to peer at the piazza.

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Brava!

A parade of almost every motorized vehicle in the village had instantaneously formed in the piazza.  Horns of all pitches and rhythmes – the staccatto beep beep beep of the Ford Pronto –  the  tiny motorini bip bip – and the I must really live in Manhatten keep your hand pressed down on your blaring big horn whaaaaaa.  A wee little boy is leaning out of the passenger window clinging to the pole supporting a full Italian flag as his father/brother roars in a circle around the fountain. Italian flags wave from almost every vehicle.  A motorini whizzed by  –  a girl on the back with both arms raised to support the flag.  It followed behind them like a Jersey shore promotional banner tailing a plane.  One car has not one but four full size flags, bigger than the passengers hanging on to them, flying from each window.    The cars continue to circle and circle. shrieks, screams, tears  –  eeks.  What was it like when the allies landed?  I don’t get the sports thing.  Men in tight shorts touch each others butts and the homophobes think its ok.  Adults visiting a foreign country paint themselves in their country’s team colors and raise angry fists in the air.  Behavior considered pagan any other time becomes ritual allowable drama during high sports celebrations.   The wails and beeps have been going on for 15 minutes now.  When do you think they’ll get bored of and start reading a book or having caffe?

Part two:

I entered my cousins house to find 6 pre-teen girls clutching each other as they stared morosely at the television.  The referees are obviously favoring Korea over Italia – home court advantage and all that.  Tears and angry tirades filled the room.  One girl with tears streaming down her face wailed from the depth of her soul.  The chilling sound had to reach around the world to that evil World Cup referee.  The match was still close.

Rain, like the tears of the young fans slowly glides over an empty field.
Rain, like the tears of the young fans slowly glides over an empty field.

These were the emotions needed to move their team on.  Oh, oh – time – they lost.  I moved as far into the corner as I could because I didn’t know what emotions would erupt.  Heart wrenching sobs erupted from another floor in the house and got closer as the resident 5 year old raced to find the comforting lap of his mother.  His father and cousin were close behind.  With anger plastered on their faces they stormed out of the house and headed out to the rural men only bar.  The girls in the living room frozen in place did not speak.  The wimpers and silent tears said everything.

Part Three:

Now that I have been introduced to the calcio world, I went to a local match on the villages’s impeccable playing field.  Pontelandolfo plays in a five on five league, so the field is shorter.  Makes it easier for the fans to surround the field and see every exciting moment.  The enthusiasm is infectious.  As you’ll see from the video, the upper promenade is packed with fans of all ages.  It feels like the entire village has come together on the field of battle to press it’s warriors on.  How could I not be part of that?  How could I not connect with that passion?  Between Nick Losardo and Jack Huber we have visuals of last weeks game.  It ended in a tie!

Brava Real Five Pontelandolfo!    http://www.realfivepontelandolfo.it/

Il Re Ghiotto – Yummy Surprise in Rotondi (AV)

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

Everyday can be a culinary adventure!  My nephew Nick was flying in to meet the family and see Pontelandlofo for the first time.  Being “Auntie Never Late”, my accommodating spouse and I set off a little after noon for the Naples Airport. The idea was to explore a town or two along the way. Being foodies we started salivating at the signs for fresh buffalo mozzarella and various local trattoria.  What can I say, we slowly drove ignoring the incredible mountain vistas and looking for a place to stop for pranza.  I’d spy something on the left and bellow there!  Jack would swerve and through clenched teeth say look for something on the right.  That was the right advice.

It has a parking lot!!!
It has a parking lot!!!

The next place on the right was “Il Re Ghiotto”.  It looked interesting and – this was incredibly important on a busy narrow street – it had a parking lot.  Inside the tables all had sweet checkered table clothes and linen napkins.  We could see the comfortable layout clearly because there was absolutely no one in the place.  We knew why, but hated to admit it.  We were hungry Americans who stopped for pranza on the early side of appropriateness – 1:00 pm.

Being in mozzarella di bufola country we of course ordered a caprese salad to share, aqua minerale frizzante and vino rosso di tavola.  Within moments toasted quarters of artegean bread appeared topped with diced tomatoes and fresh basil that had been marinating in the regions incredible olive oil.  Yummy.  I wondered if my Italian had been so bad that my “l’insalta caprese” sounded like “bruschetta “.  I shouldn’t have worried, the bruschetta was simply a gift from the kitchen. Like every caprese salad we have had in Italy, the tomatoes tasted like fresh tomatoes not hot house drek and nothing beats really fresh mozzarella .  Since we had about 5 hours before the flight was due and were only an hour from the airport, we ate slowly and savored every bite.

Jack had ordered miniature penne pasta tossed with porcini mushrooms, a few diced tomatoes, loose sausage and of course that amazing olive oil.  He made me taste it and I wanted to grab the plate. But if I did that he’d grab my risotto and I refused to share.  I ordered mystery risotto.  A mystery because the only word I recognized in the description was “risotto”.  It was purple in color, had teeny tiny bits of something meaty in it and was amazing.  Jack took a taste. I took two tastes.  OK – purple- maybe squid with squid ink? But everyone knows the word for squid – calamari.  This word started with A. Of course, I didn’t write it down. Didn’t tell master mind Jack the word.  Hence, I couldn’t look it up. ( I found out later it was made with red wine.)

For contorni we had rucola (arugula) that Jack pointed out must have been picked 5 minutes ago. They were tiny leaves perched in a bowl and served with bottles of olive oil and vinegar.

After our coffees,I asked the owner in what I thought was impeccable Italian for the check. He looked at me and responded in impeccable university grade American Standard English,” are you from New Jersey or Connecticut?”  All those Italian classes and I still can’t pass.  We introduced ourselves to the charming Pasquale and he joined us for tale swapping

Pasquale, the charming host.
Pasquale, the charming host.

He was born in Jersey City and lived there during his adolescent years.  The family has a marble, granite and stone business in Patterson,NJ.  They also own the R\restuarant in Rotondi (AV).  He and his parents fly back and forth often. We promised to come back the next time we made the airport trek and take a picture for this blog of his dad’s circa 1970s Cadillac Coupe De Ville sitting I the garage flaunting its NJ liscence plates.

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Where oh where did those little plates go?

You will notice there are no pictures of food.  Why?  You damn well know why!  It was so good we scoffed it down before I remembered to take a picture.  If you want to see the food visit:

Il Re Ghiotto – Ristorante Pizzeria

S.S. 7 Appia, 62

83017. Rotondi (AV)

Tell Pasquale that the New Jerseyans sent you.

Politics Runs in the Family! Vote!!

by midgeguerrera, posted in Politics - Quirky Aside
Vote for Giusy Mancini!!!
Vote for Giusy Mancini!!!

Carmela generously invited us for pranzo yet again!  We don’t complain she is one of the best cooks I have ever encountered.  We were all eating and laughing – well they were laughing at my Italian – when the door burst open and Carmela’s youngest daughter, Giusy raced in screaming.  She was ranting so rapidly that  I couldn’t figure out if the dog had died, her car was in an accident or – what?  The what was something I never would have imagined.  As a matter of fact, I couldn’t believe it, she is running for “consigliere” which is like being on the city council.  Now in my New Jersey family, politics were a part of life.  My dad started running for office before my sister and I could even run.  We grew up licking stamps, banging on doors, smiling at creepy people and getting out the vote.  I’ve run for and sat on a school board.  Ran and lost a whopper of a city council race in Asbury Park and worked on numerous campaigns over the years.

What a kick in the bloodline connection to hear this beautiful 25 year old woman go on and on about shady campaigning.  It seems that the last mayor (Sindaco) had been re-elected for a second five year term when the council (consiglieri) decided they couldn’t work with him.  So they all up and resigned!  Just like that a change of government!   That meant another election had to be called – an out of cycle election.  Before I go on let me try to explain the basics of the system.  I sat down with Rossella ( our family avvocato) to get a quick lesson.

There are four levels of government – Federal (Governo Stato with two houses – Camera dei Deputati and Senato), Regional (President & Consiglio Regionale), Provincial ( President & Consiglio Provinciale) and local (Communale – Sindaco and  Consiglieri). The number of local council members (Consiglieri) depends on the size of the Comune.  I’m only going to talk about this local election – we have a cousin running and that makes this election important.

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Village Crest

The Sindaco (mayor) and her/his Six Consiglieri are elected every five years – man does that sound just like my old home town Asbury Park, NJ.  Originally the entire country had the local elections on the same two days (how civilized  – two days – one of which is a Sunday).  But as governments caved in and special elections had to be called the country suddenly found itself with elections happening all the time.  Back to Pontelandolfo –  the last six consiglieri walked and the Ministero dell’ Interno picked the date for the new election.  The village activists only had a scant few weeks to get tickets together.  The ticket formation is key.

The way local elections work in Italian towns is “all or nothing”.  The various political parties ( organizations) put someone up for Sindaco.  On the ballot you must vote for the party of the Sindaco and then write in just one name from the list of names below his/hers.  That list is called “la lista” and the people on the list are the people the newly elected Sindaco will choose from for his consiglieri.  You write the name of the one person you want  to be consigliere after you vote for the party/sindaco.  Who knew that “bullet voting” was a common sport in Italian politics!  If the Sindaco whose list a person is on wins and that person – hopefully my cousin Giusy – was the top vote getter on the list than the Sindaco has to name her a member of the consigliere.  The sindaco gets to pick four from his ticket.   This is the majority (maggiore) and then the Sindaco must pick the Sindaco candidate of top two vote garnering other lists. These two become the  consiglieri di minoranza.   This all means the top vote getters are set for five years – unless the consigliere decide the Sindaco is too stupid to live and they all resign.  Whew – it really is winning party take all.

The dilemma this particular Saturday was a typical scurrilous whisper whisper campaign tactic.  Folks are spreading the rumor that the old ousted mayor  supports the ticket that Giusy is on.  Since he was ousted, that doesn’t bode well for her group.   As Giusy went door to door asking for a vote for her group in general and herself in particular, she discovered this unwanted endorsement – not at one house but at many!

My immediate New Jersey political maven thought was – which one of the other groups started the rumor?  When I ran for city council in Asbury Park this pazzo woman ran around telling people that my sons and I were slum lords in Bradley Beach.  Strange rumor since A – I don’t have any kids and B – I only owned one house ever!  People just like to rattle the gossip chain. The conversation around the table was heated. The advice ranged from “let it go – who will believe him” to “confront him and tell him to stop”.  I was thinking more along the lines of sending out a flier that has the former Sindaco endorsing another group and really confusing everyone.  During the angst, I discovered that Rossella’s husband Pasquale is a consigliere of a neighboring town.  She married into another family with a history of political activity. When I heard that  I stuffed another vote into the ballot box for blood defining who we are.

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This is the Municipal Building.

The first year I had my Italian citizen ship, we happened to be in Pontelandolfo during a municipal election.   I actually gotten a post card alerting me to the election before we left Asbury Park.  When Jack and I visited Carmela and Mario I asked about the upcoming election and if I could vote.  They didn’t think I could but were supporting a “sindaco” – I had no idea what that meant, but of course I would vote for whoever they told me to vote for – I mean I did grow up in a political family and knew the drill.  They made a call and suddenly this man raced in, grabbed me, my Italian passport and dragged me to the municipal building.  I had no idea why.  At that time I spoke barely any Italian and just signed where he pointed.  The next thing I knew I had a document that allowed me to vote in my first Italian election.  The elections are very civilized – they are over two days – one of which is Sunday.  You have no excuse not to get to the polls. Besides with half of the town standing in front of the polling place going to vote is a social event.   I went in to the poll, handed in my certificate and was handed a paper ballot.  Now what?  I couldn’t read a thing, couldn’t ask a question and stood staring at the little cardboard dividers set up on tables.  Luckily, things are pretty relaxed and Annarita not only photographed my first vote but went to my “booth” with me.  All I had to do was put an X in the circle with the sindaco’s name and write my choice for consigliere (I had it written on my palm) on the line below; then fold it and yes – stuff it in the ballot box!  Since then, I have voted in a number of federal elections – absentee of course.

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Tessera Elettorale – Voting Card/Record

This year, knowing that I absolutely had to vote for Giusy, I went to the municipo with Rossella and asked the clerk myself for the necessary document to vote.  The election is May 26 & 27  . Stayed tuned for more election updates as nefarious plots and electioneering continue!

Pumpkin Ravioli – Ravioli con la Zucca Dentro e Fuori

by midgeguerrera, posted in Food - Eating In and Out!
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Out of the frying pan into my stomach.
Skip the plate!

This is the beginning of the most exciting part of my living in Italy.  Learning how to cook not like an Italian American but like a Pontelandolfese.  Today, I am sitting next to the gorgeous, multi-lingual, brilliant Annarita Mancini and she is going to unearth the secret of the incredible ravioli con zucca. We decided that this is not a cook book blog but a “watch your nonna” and “listen to your nonna” blog.  Everything is a pinch of this and a handful of that. So just leap into the conversation and add your nonna’s touches too.  Sit back, think foodie thoughts and follow along.

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Annarita really did shoot me dirty looks!

For you lovers of language we will post the first recipe but not a recipe  in Italian ably written by Annarita and then in English poorly written by me.

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Look in the back of the cupboard – every italian American has one of these tucked away!

Facilissimo preparare i ravioli!  Un uovo per 100 grammi di farina…io e mamma abbiamo dovuto usare 9 uova!!!  (That means she fed a ton of people and added more flour too.)  ok…unire le uova, la farina e un pò di olio, mescolare fino a rendere l’impasto omogeneo. (“The flour is asking you for more eggs” says Carmela – “that is how you know how much.”  How funky granola woo-woo is this!  I love it!  It is more about look, touch – or as Carmela says “your relationship with the food)   Sorry for interrupting – what kind of look are you shooting me – I said I was sorry.

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Boil baby boil. I’m hungry.

Creare delle sfoglie usando la macchinetta per la pasta.  Le lasciamo riposare cospargendole con un pò di farina…nel frattempo prepariamo la zucca per il ripieno dei ravioli…cuocere la zucca con olio,aglio e sale, quando é cotta unire le noci tritate, lo speck a pezzetti e una manciata di formaggio grattuggiato. Con l’aiuto del “miracoloso” attrezzo per preparare i ravioli il gioco é fatto.  Mettiamo una prima sfoglia di pasta sull’attrezzo,poi aggiungiamo un pó di ripieno negli appositi spazi,copriamo con una seconda sfoglia, passiamo il matterello sulle sfoglie e i ravioli sono pronti. Passiamo alla cottura…cuocere i ravioli in acqua bollente per meno di 5 minuti.  (Come dice mamma:” il tempo che salgono!”)

  See she is doing it again – she just knows when it is done!  OK, OK – back to Annarita – Per condirli abbiamo usato gli stessi ingredienti del ripieno: zucca, noci, speck e formaggio…basta farli saltare in padella per 2 minuti e il risultato sará delizioso!!!!

According to Annarita making ravioli is easy!  She forgot to tell you that Zia Giuseppina first had to go to the chicken coop and get the eggs.  OK, now that we have eggs and flour here we go.  They use one egg for about 100 grammi of flour – that is about 4 ounces.  You have to go by touch here.  Not too liquid and not to dry. If it needs more flour – add some.  So for twelve people they used nine eggs and about two pounds of flour – Did we really eat all those ravioli???

Blend the eggs and flour together until you have a nice smooth ball of dough.  Then break it into handfull sizes, flatten it and send it through the pasta machine.  After you made the sheets of dough, set them on the counter on a little flour and let them rest.

Meanwhile, you got some strong dude to cut into the fresh pumpkin and peel it – go find a cute guy at the local caffé.  Slice the pumpkin into tiny thin slices.  Put some great olive oil in a frying pan with garlic and let that start to cook.  Add the pumpkin and saute all together.  Add salt to taste.  (Anyone have another word besides “add”?) When the pumpkin is cooked add thinly sliced walnuts, grated parmesan and speck.(Unlike other prosciutti, speck is deboned before curing and made in northern Italy.)

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Anybody sell Tupperware? I want one of these.

Place a sheet of pasta on the – I could not believe this- TUPPERWARE ravioli form.  Poke the dough into the form and put about a spoon full of filling in each cavity.  Cover with a second sheet of pasta and pass a rolling pin over it.  The ravioli form has ridges that will cut the pieces into the perfect shape.  Flip the form over and – shazaam – you have ravioli.  Now, you all know how to toss ravioli into boiling salted water and cook it until it floats to the top.

What you didn’t know was the segreto – secret – use the same filling for the “condimento” – non sauce.  They fried up extra pumpkin, garlic and speck.  Then tossed in the nuts and some grated parmesan – which is made from local cheese  and the cooked ravioli and served it up with fresh parsley – add extra parmesan to taste.  There you have it – “to die for” ravioli.

Buon appetito! DSC_0014

Buon Compleanno a Me!

by midgeguerrera, posted in Any Day in Pontelandolfo, Food - Eating In and Out!
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” It’s my birthday, I can eat the real whipped cream icing before anyone dare get near this cake!
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Zia Giuseppina regales me with tales of yore. She speaks the village dialect so understanding everything is a challenge but great fun.

Happy Birthday to Me!  The family rallied to create the perfect birthday party for me.  What made it perfect?  Great food!  Great conversation – that I only understood 40% of! Great tales of yesterday.  Great hopes for tomorrow.

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Primo Piatto – Annarita and Carmela’s “to die for” ravioli. Recipe will be up soon – think fresh, natural and yummy.

Primo piatto was ravioli that was so “sono buoni” that I want to take Annarita and Carmela back to the United States with me to just feed me the ravioli.  I’m going to create a special section to post Carmela’s recipes – they are all a touch of this and a toss of tantalizing!

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Lamb cooked in just a wee bit of the hard stuff – mouth waters thinking about it.

Secondo Piatto?  Why it could be nothing less than my absolute favorite meat – roasted lamb.  Jack absolutely hates lamb but tasted Carmela’s and asked for seconds.  She added a secret ingredient – booze!

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Carmela sautéed some “from the market onions” in olive oil from husband Mario’s trees, tossed in some salt and a little water. The fave disappeared in minutes.

Yes, we had a vegetable too.  Right now fava beans are in season and incredibly plentiful at the market.  But who needs to go to the market – so many people grow fava beans that they give away baskets full.  Think tons of zucchini in the summer finding its way from your neighbors garden to your back porch. I must admit, I never had fresh fava beans before – only dried.  Since Zia Vittoria gives me a basket every few days, I too have been experimenting with how to cook them.  (I made a fantastic batch the other day with apple, cinnamon, onions, red pepper and – well I don’t remember – I just threw in what ever was handy.)

Diets be damned.  How can anyone say no to a vanilla cake with layers of real whipped cream, nuts, chocolate and bits of heaven.  My family in the states is full of artistic types and it never ceases to amaze me to discover that our family in Italy has the same artistic characteristics.  As Zia Giuseppina is constantly saying to me – “we are of the same blood.”

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This New York Bakery worthy cake was created by Rossella and Giusy – under Carmela’s watchful eye of course! (Rats – I had to share.)
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Quanti anni hai! Non lo so – there are too many years to remember!
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I thank each and every one of you for a perfect day.

You know, today is my special day.  I am just going to eat, drink and then go to the piazza and do it again.  So long – see you domani.