Tuesday, January 18, 2011

For All The Saints

I'm old enough to remember when national holidays were celebrated on their proper days.  Lincoln's birthday was always February 12th, Washington's was February 22, Columbus on October 12 and Veteran's Day, November 11; as a kid this meant NO SCHOOL!  Banks and other businesses would close too, after giving their clients plenty of warning by posting signs in their windows a couple of days prior the event.  If a holiday fell on Saturday or Sunday well. . . tough luck kids, sorry gang, back to the regular grind!  


(Holidays with underlying religious themes were always surrounded by either a one or two week school vacation and hopefully, if you chose the right god, your holiday was surrounded by "time-off!")


With the invention of the Monday holiday, everything changed. No more whimpering employees and schoolchildren feeling short-changed when a holiday fell on a Saturday or Sunday. Everyone was now guaranteed a day-off and all was fair and equal. 


Yesterday was Martin Luther King Jr. Day (observed) and the only U. S. National Holiday honoring a non-president.  Dr. King was born on January 15 but he, like Lincoln and Washington, was assigned a Monday position to create a three-day "weekend." 


Celebrating someone special's "special day" is a wonderful way of honoring that special someone; moving that "special day" is a way of honoring the needs of the celebrants. That model seems to work well back home, but that would never fly here!


San Antonio, Levina (IM)


Yesterday was Saint Anthony of Egypt Day and to an Italian that means "January seventeenth."  Regardless of where in the week January 17th it falls, it is always a holiday.  A national holiday? no, does everyone celebrate it? no, but if you're named Antonio, after the saint, or if Anthony is the patron saint of your town, it's a holiday and your employer will just have to deal with it! 


And so it is and forever shall be.


San Antonio is not the patron saint of Ceriana; however, every January 17th a few dozen Cerianaschi and Cerianesi make an hour's drive to the small town of Lavina to help the locals celebrate its patron saint, St. Anthony.  This "pilgrimageliterally doubles the population of Lavina 


I'm told that this tradition started decades ago when a Cerianese woman, born in Lavina, was concerned that a dwindling population there would soon forget their rituals.  She sang with Ceriana's women's choir, le Mamme Canterine and, as a fellow musician, she enticed our band members to play in Lavina by organizing a luncheon for them.  Still alive, but now unable to participate, I hear she was a wonderful hostess who would entertain her "guests" with a, sort of, cabaret well into the night!  


To this day, an ensemble consisting of members of Ceriana's band and, I assume,
 what's left of Lavina's band, leads the procession of the Saint and provides music throughout the day.
 


Like many traditions here, Saint Anthony's Day in Lavina is a blurred mix of the "sacred and profane." Although yesterday's event included two masses and a solemn procession I suspect that most of the celebrants were, at least, equally interested in nourishing more than their spiritual appetites.







The Lunch, il pranzo, started with a different kind of procession-- a procession of "small plates," gli antipasti.  


--Before continuing I'd like to share what I've learned about the word, "antipasto." "Pasto" is the Italian word for "meal" and "anti" is Latin for "prior to" or "before."  Therefore, "antipasti" (plural) are things consumed before the main meal.




The Lunch, il pranzo, started around noon with, gli antipasti:
                                                                                                              
  1. Vegetable tart (la torta verde)
  2. A cheese filled fried raviolo
  3. A puff-pastry filled with truffles and garlic
  4. Salame and marinated olives
  5. A cod-filled fritter (friscioi)
  6. Sliced veal in tuna sauce (vitello tonnato)
  7. Fried frogs--whole (rane)

After an hour of antipasti we were treated to the primi piatti, or "first plates".  In restaurants you'll see "i primi piatti" on the menu and usually one chooses one primo piatto; at this banquet we were served three primi piatti:


  1. Risotto con quattro formaggi (Rice with four cheeses)
  2. Ravioli al ragu
  3. Tagliarini al pesto


The third hour of lunch consisted of three "second plates,"

i secondi:

  1. Roast veal with potatoes (vitello arrosto con patate)
  2. Braised goat with beans (capra e fagioli)
  3. Fried eels (anguille fritti)


The sweets, and there were three, were served on a single plate. 

  • tiramisu
  • millefoglie
  • semifreddo

At last, coffee.




"croak"
Start to finish, lunch took about four hours to complete and, at this pace, it's not impossible to consume all of the plates listed above, although I must confess I "passed" on a couple of the; shall I say, "slimier" items.  Of course, the red wine flowed and I drank my share.  




Next year (and I've already marked my calendar) St. Anthony's Day falls on a Tuesday. 


Imagine what the conversation would be like if you had to ask your boss for that particular day off.   Her side of the conversation would sound a bit like . . .


"You say you'd like the day off . . . for what? . . . a religious observance? . . . I see . . . . St. Anthony. . . where? . . .Lavina?. . . do you think you could just go to Mass and come to work late? . . . oh, I see. . . and you play in the band . . . a procession . . . uh huh . . . oh, a luncheon follows . . . well, maybe you can come in after lunch and work late . . . it's a four hour lunch? . . . I see . . . 













Sunday, January 9, 2011

Home again, home again jiggity jig!

I've heard that, "home is where the hearth is" and if that adage is correct then we've been homeless since selling #10 Cumberland Street. 


Our last true hearth!




We went "home" for the holidays for first time in our lives and, to be frank, it was a bit surreal; being "home" yet, not having a place to call our own. 


We had an eventful time staying with friends and relatives and everyone's hospitality was indeed top notch! We were; however, constantly reminded that we were indeed not home but, rather, in a locale we called "home" for many many years. 


Delma and her boy, Rich!




The first week of our visit was hampered by a nasty flu which limited our visiting time and challenged both of our "must-do" lists. The rental car sat parked for the first three days until we felt well enough to drive it to the storage unit where we would "pay our respects" to our "homeless" household items. 


Our mission, that morning, was to take home [there's that word again] some items to make life in Ceriana even more fabulous, but when I raised the rolling metal door, a pall fell over me, darkening my already miserable mood. There, surprisingly neater than I remembered, sat our things; our stuff; our cantlivewithouts; our impulse buys! The few items I had on my "take-home" list were buried deep in a stack of treasures each one triggering a memory, or, a mystery; as in, "why did we keep that?" 


On Rich's "must find and take home" list were the "oxygen" pillows we paid a fortune for and which greatly reduce one's snoring. I, on the other hand, was after my collection of Voightländer 35mm cameras--I have a romantic attachment to heavy german mechanical things. [I still intend to blog about shipping over our Benz!] 


Ill, overwhelmed and slightly depressed, we returned to the rental car with two items: Rich with a hoody, and I with a leather jacket, now too tight--must have shrunk!


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We went on with our holiday: Christmas Eve at my sister's in San Jose and a Christmas Day Drive to Rich's brother's in San Diego. Good people, good food, good times! We returned to the Bay Area to prepare for our departure.


Our last two days home were spent checking the last few items off our respective "lists." We saw three movies, sorted out various computer problems with third party apple™ geeks and had one last burger.


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I'm happy to report that after a third visit to Public Storage we left with the following: two oxygen pillows, four german cameras, a socket wrench set, Rich's favorite sweater, my STRS paperwork, and a half bottle of Howards® feed and wax--"Really?"


I returned the leather jacket to its grey bin.




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And now we're home again surrounded with the old treasures we've acquired when purchasing this 800 year old house and a few new items from our former lives back. . . home?






Time to get crackin' on the old armoire with the Howards® and some "0000" steel-wool.