Act1- Scene2 Life Changes

Naming Names

2014-02-19T21:23:00.001-05:00

Every morning I am greeted with a pressing question, "What do you want to be called?" This might seem like an odd question, especially considering that it is my daughter who asks me. My answer, although it rarely changes, doesn't satisfy her; "She can call me Franca, I'll be her Fra!" To this Sidney responds, "You're her Grandmother, she cannot call you Franca!"

It's January 3rd, 7PM. I'm in the waiting room at NYU Langone Medical Center, waiting for Verusca to arrive. I knew this day would come but never thought it would would be so soon.

We rushed her to the hospital, after hours of laboring at home, in the middle of a snowstorm so I knew it wouldn't be long now. Suddenly, I got the big news, Sidney's labor has stalled and she's exactly where she was when we checked in. A few more hours of awkward silence and my daughter Alanna, calls me in tears, to tell me that I am officially a Grandmother.

As I started to walk towards the delivery room, I couldn't help but think back to that March 18th so many years ago when I first saw Sidney. She was my second (and last) baby, labor was not too long and much easier than the first time around, but that didn't make it any less special. I remembered hearing her crying for the first time and thinking she would never pass unnoticed. The first thing I saw when I walked in was Sidney, she was filled with love, happiness and relief. The baby was healthy and perfect and Verusca is the spitting image of her mother. All of a sudden it hits me. I should be called Rara. Now I am a Grandmother.

Theatre On Wheels

2013-05-03T00:05:00.002-04:00

In NYC even a mundane bus ride can take a turn for the theatrical.

Yesterday I took a routine trip to the Union Square Market. Lucky for me the M14A bus takes me door to door, and yesterday was no exception. I found the bus waiting for me with plenty of seats, and in no time I was strolling in the market. When the time came to meet up with my MTA chauffeur, to my dismay, he kept me waiting.

When the double doors finally opened I quickly found one of the few remaining seats and by the time the bus pulled out, it was crammed with people. At the next stop the bus was packed, and the riders were getting weary, and so the curtain opens!

In our leading roles we have a man, 40-something, let's call him passenger A; and passenger B, a 30-something woman whispering sweet nothings into an i-phone.
Passenger A: "Why are you staring at me?"
Passenger B: "What are you talking about?"
After they exchanged a few unpleasantries the bus came to its next stop. Here a few other key passengers joined us: an elderly woman in a wheel chair covered in bandages, and a middle-aged nun bearing an oversized cross on her chest. At this point our protagonists had gained volume and passenger A assured passenger B, that were he a lesser man, he'd have a word or two for her. In no time he became a lesser man. Profanities and obscenities of every shape, size, and color spilled from his mouth as if the dam had been broken. The nun protested and shielded her holy ears with her hands and shouted as if in pain, "Those words, please don't!".

Our driver yelled a swift "Shut up back there" to calm the crowd, which went almost entirely ignored. The man to my right yelled back, "You idiot, why do you keep on picking up wheel chairs and more riders?" In response the bus stopped again to let more riders on than off. As the bus started to fill up rivalries and alliances quickly formed. The woman sitting behind me gave me her allegiance with a whisper, "Do you believe this?" My next interaction was with a feeble old man whom I had offered my seat to.

"If you get up, where are you going to put all those bags?"
Having done my duty, I politely smiled and looked away. So he added, "What the Hell are you going to do with all those vegetables?" and so now I was surrounded by both allies and enemies. A silent V'affanculo chilled my nerves and I managed to fake a big smile.

Finally, it was my turn to get off. As the bus doors closed behind me, I looked down at the many bags in my hands, and thought, "What the hell am I going to do with all these vegetables?"

THE CATALYST

2012-12-12T21:06:00.001-05:00

This is not the first posting on my blog about the quandary of aging. It seems every few years I have a different "uh oh" moment. wrinkles, greying hair, sagging skin....... and with it brings another insight about my life journey, what it all means and how it changes who I am.. up until the November Pier show the process of aging to me had meant aging with dignity, dressing and acting appropriately (by my standards). In other words I had resigned myself to growing old.. not a bad thing, as I also consider the advantages of experience and appreciate the smaller things in life that bring pleasure.

But something changed me at the Pier Show... I found something I had coveted for these many years now, a fabulous necklace designed by Coppola e Toppo who was famous in the 60s for designing the crystals that were at the end of the belts of the Pucci dresses that we all wore. I had purchased many necklaces from this designer but this particular one never came my way. But now I own one! it's mine! I feel that a milestone has occurred and it's also a sort of an omen. Eventually you get what you want. This necklace was the catalyst for my change of attitude for the New Year. It was sort of a chain reaction. I was speaking to my friend Barbara about the necklace and it was at that moment that I realized I wanted to wear it with a little black dress on New Year's Eve. Barbara wanting to join in said "I've just the thing, my mother's little black dress from the 60's" it was a Jacqueline de Ribes black dress.

Thanks to Fedex I will have the perfect outfit for a New Year's celebration and I know that I will be sharing a fun evening with all who are celebrating the coming new year with me. So this is my resolution-- to be more like the care free self of easier times! doing what I want to do in my life! With that, I wish all of you a Happy and healthy and productive New Year. Have fun my friends!

The One That Got Away

2012-08-19T18:59:00.000-04:00

Couldn't sleep at all last night, all I could think about was the Victorian heart locket, containing a photo of the man of my dreams, surrounded by carved stars and crescent moon motifs. The man so beautiful with piercing soulful deep eyes, clearly a philosopher!

The Victorian man had style, he was wearing such a beautiful shirt.... Like a Comme des Garcons shirt. And, did I mention his confident smile. Oh! that smile.

The clock was ticking. I placed my bid, another bid, and another and finally.....

He's going! going! gone!!!!. He got away

I didn't bid high enough. He's gone forever..... but he's forever etched in my mind and in my heart.

Damn ebay! But then, you can't win'em all

MOTHER'S DAY

2012-05-13T17:21:00.000-04:00

It's mother's day, Spring is in the air. My daughter and I are sitting on the balcony drinking green tea and Nick Cave song "Opium Tea" is blasting on my computer. I love that song.

"I look out the window and what do I see " "Cause I am what i am and what will be will be."

The sun is out the squirrels are playing, the birds are chirping and I am happy. And I can see the beauty in everything.

Youth is happy because it has the ability to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.

Franz Kafka

Micia

2012-04-21T11:36:00.001-04:00

Today, a small kitten with grey and black stripes will become our new family member. My daughter, Alanna, has been telling me the story all week long. Now the time has come.

The negotiations on how to distribute the kittens found in a friend's backyard in Brooklyn, lasted over a week. Alanna liked the white kitten with the brown spots, but we are getting the grey and black striped one. The democratic approach was used - one that best suited the welfare of the kittens. No one got to choose. We got selected to take the kitten that was most outgoing because of our dog, NIKE.

The next thing was that they would all be given away at once. So "Tonight's The Night".

Alanna, made the preparations for the arrival of the as yet un-named kitten. Much time was spent preparing Nike, lots of conversations, explanations, kisses and hugs. Didn't seem like Nike had any interest in having a kitten to share our attentions.

Now she's here, so small, so darling, and so beautiful! Chubby Checker's 'The Twist', kept playing in my mind. that was in 1960........it was a dejavu! of when I got my little kitty Pallina. And now I can have that same experience. With a new song!

What to name her, comes next. Alanna and I simultaneously thought of Micia. Every stray cat in Rome is called Micia and she fits the name so perfectly. And so Micia it is. Nike was overcome with jealousy mixed with curiosity and had to be separated from her new little friend. Within hours they were cuddling up together and playing. Micia fits in with our family perfectly. Sidney will be back in a few weeks and has already met Micia on Skype. She likes her too. Fait accompli.

When I'm 64

2012-01-18T19:56:00.001-05:00

"Many years from now" is here, and now I'm 64. How did that happen? Back in 1967, when we first heard that song, 64 seemed unimaginably far away. I turned 64 on January 9th, and to celebrate we had the perfect solution. MUSIC. My friend, Mike Stern, was playing at the 55 Bar on Christopher Street, so I went with my daughter and her friend. It's been too long since I sat and listened to him play. I mustn't let that happen again. He's a terrific musician who makes wonderful music, and it was a treat to see him. 64 be damned. We had a great time.

Follow Your Heart

2011-11-27T16:56:00.002-05:00

And then it happens, the phone rings and my friend Virginia announces she's coming to visit. It's her first time in NYC and there's so much I want to share, to show her....

She arrives, and the first night she's here, she teaches me how to make pizza. A few days later, she's teaching me how to make wine ciambelle. The next day she teaches me how to make pies and crostata to take to her friend's party. I too was invited.

This is a first for me! I had never been to a party in the US where everyone invited spoke Italian. What a treat. It was here I heard the story of Franca Viola. Now one of my heroines. At the age of 17 she rebelled against an unjust law and won (see below). We share the same first name, the same birth date. and the same philosophy "Follow Your Heart".

I so admire her courage, her defiant, rebellious nature. I am so happy to have learned about Franca Viola from Virginia.

Now that Virginia is home, she will be in my thoughts everytime I prepare the delicious simple recipies she taught me. I will see her footprints on the streets of NYC.

Franca Viola (born in Alcamo in 1947) is a Sicilian woman that became famous in the 1960s in Italy for refusing a "rehabilitating wedding" ("matrimonio riparatore") after suffering kidnapping and rape. Instead, she and her family successfully appealed to the law to prosecute the rapists. The trial had a wide resonance in Italy, as Viola's behavior clashed with the traditional social conventions, whereby a woman would lose her honour if she did not marry the man she lost her virginity to. Franca Viola thus became a symbol of the cultural progress and the emancipation of women in post-war italy wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Franca_Viola

In 1968, three years after her abduction, Franca married Giuseppe Ruisi, the man she was engaged to at the age of 14. She married the man she loved. In 1981 because of her courageous stance article 544 was repealed. Article 544 abolishes the right to cancel a violent sexual assault by subsequent marriage.

When interviewed by Riccardo Vescovo, she said.

“It was not a courageous gesture. I only did what I felt I had to do, as any other girl would do today. I listened to my heart, the rest came by itself. Today my advice to young people is to follow their own feelings; it is not difficult. I did it in a very different Sicily, they can do this by simply looking into their hearts”

She's a grandmother now, living with her family in Alcamo, Sicily.

Touch The Moon

2011-09-10T16:51:00.006-04:00

I am fortunate to be living in a corner apartment on the 14th floor in downtown NYC. It has a wonderful panoramic view. From one corner I see the Manhattan Bridge and the Brooklyn bridge and the old buildings of the Financial District. From the other side of the apartment looking West I see the tall buildings of the city off in the distance. And, then there is the sky.

And often I just find myself looking out wishing I could reach up and touch the moon - just as I did when I was little. This was a time when I was content just being in the world and feeling very much connected to nature. I so enjoy watching the moon, I love the way it constantly changes offering it's many shapes and sizes and how different it looks in the changing backgrounds. Every night is a different painting,

When my children were small I found a book, by Eric Carle, "Papa, please get the moon for me". On the cover was a large moon above a mountain top, with a ladder. And this is just what I saw when I was a child looking out from my terrace. All I felt I needed was someone to come with me to the top of the hill and hold the ladder for me! And, I wasn't alone in wishing to touch the moon! My daughters loved that book and they told me they too dreamed of touching it.

Years later, I met Margaret and we became very close friends. It turned out she was responsible for the development of the NASA Apollo onboard flight software. She received an Exceptional Space Act Award, one of only 128 awards granted by NASA from 1990 through 2003. And now again, my dream of touching the moon has come back to me.

Today I googled "touch the moon", and there I see that for all of us who dreamed of touching the moon, our dreams can now become reality!

I see some nearly 4-billion-year-old piece of moon rock will be on display for visitors to touch as part of NASA’s 'Driven to Explore' traveling exhibit, at the Children’s Museum (For more information call (803) 779-3100 or visit www.edventure.org)
Read more: http://www.thestate.com/2011/06/12/1855583/touch-the-moon-really-on-tuesday.html#ixzz1XSgJAvjN
.
And finally, then, as Eleanor Roosevelt said so well:
"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams"

I HAD A DREAM

2011-08-06T13:23:00.008-04:00

Yesterday, you hurt me and the hurt turned to anger and for that I'm sorry. This is what I wrote in an email to an old friend today.

After, I pressed the send button, I started thinking about what I'd written and what it really meant. I felt I was justified for my anger and that he deserved my angry words. Still pondering the situation, I get a call from Mandi, a friend of mine, who tells me about a video she's working on using the song by Randy Newman "Last night I had a dream"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V0MkzooASGg&feature=related

Hearing the lyrics of this song triggered more introspection.

You said, "Honey, can you tell me what your name is?"
"Honey, can you tell me what your name is?"
I said, "You know what my name is."

And than it came to me - What I never really realized before - that he never did understand who I really am.

Aging Gracefully

2011-04-19T11:46:00.006-04:00

My grandmother has been in my thoughts and in conversations with my women friends a lot lately. I have been using her as a great example for us as she was someone who never wasted time thinking about aging. She was forever young. She was happy, she had a career that gave her a purpose in life, and her work kept her young and active both mentally and physically. At the age of 94 when old age had finally crept in and she could no longer work, she died peacefully. She was never ill, she slept very little, read her books diligently every night, drank many cups of strong espresso daily and worked every day of her life. (she never took a vacation)

When my life changed so drastically, for a moment I had forgotten what really made me happy and where I came from.

Here I go again, starting up my accounting career once more just like I did in 1979. Starting from scratch after so much life experience and in such a different world. Technology - 'have computer will travel' - has changed the way I do business, it allows me to work from home. I no longer have the constraints of an office, research is at my fingertips. My computer, clients and associates now form my new 'virtual' office. My associate Laurie, an ex-employee, intelligent, hard working, with impeccable work ethics, and attention to detail and getting things done right, makes for a great partner. My clients are a wonderful new cast of characters for me, an international mix, many in the arts, all with real talent, all sharing one common denominator CREATIVITY... and I love that.

Talking with my friends about my grandmother and going back to my career have helped me find my fountain of youth, tomorrow, we shall see what else life will bring us. A new journey. I welcome it.

I want to thank my grandmother yet again for helping me throughout my life. When I was young our talks guided me to making important life decisions. Now, that she's no longer with us she is still guiding me by her example in the most difficult part of life "Aging Gracefully".

Michael

2011-02-14T04:09:00.003-05:00

Last night my friend Margaret and I were talking about old friends and at her suggestion, I googled my friend Michael only to find that he has been dead for the past 8 years. I met Michael when I was 17 years old and he remained very close to my heart. Our friendship lasted over the years. Although I didn't see him, he'd call every so often and we'd catch up on our lives. Until... we lost touch several years ago. I thought it was due perhaps to all of my contact numbers being changed when my business was merged and I separated from my ex.

I wondered why he hadn't called and years later, I called his office only to find that he was no longer there and no forwarding number. I then knew but could not bring myself to accept that I would never hear from him again. I knew he was gone forever. There were many things I needed to say.

When my father died I felt the same. I kept putting off discussions that needed to be addressed. I always thought there would be time. But one morning, I got the call that he had passed the night before, all the thoughts of all the unanswered questions All the thoughts of what needed to be said; crowded in on me while a sadness came over me. The same sadness that I felt last night reading of Michael's passing.

I was devastated that I could not say goodbye. While the process of having to say goodbye, seemed unimportant to me in the earlier part of my life, it now seems very significant and essential in my second chapter.

However, in 2007, I was fortunate enough to contact two of my favorite clients Johnny, and Hiram. I was feeling nostalgic as my life had changed drastically. Finding myself in France, I thought of Johnny and how much I admired and respected him as an artist and as a human being. I thought how much I missed him and decided to call him. I indirectly said my goodbyes to him by telling him all that I thought about him. And then there was Hiram, who was like a son to me, he was playing at "Testaccio Village" in Rome when I was in Rome. I went back stage like the old days and got time to talk there and again when we were in NYC. .

A year later shockingly both Johnny and Hiram died on the same day 7/25/2008. Johnny in France and Hiram in NYC. Yes, there was GREAT sadness but there were no unanswered questions or untold feelings. There was closure. They will always be in my heart.

Today on Valentine's, I hope you all remember your loved ones and make sure they know how you feel.

Happy Valentine,
Franca

A Quattr'occhi

2010-12-29T17:21:00.018-05:00

My friend called yesterday asking what time would be best for her son to call me. He wanted to ask me some questions pertaining to accounting. I immediately said that if he was going to be in NYC, I would rather see him in person. I really wanted to say "a quattr'occhi", an expression I'd never used before but I now remember coming across it for the first time many years ago. It was in Rome back in 2001, I was visiting the ‘Alimentari’, the deli on via dei Banchi Vecchi when I noticed two men loudly speaking to each other. One said, "I told him that I wanted to speak to him 'a quattr’occhi' not on the phone". I loved the expression, but never had a reason to use it until yesterday.

What does “a quattr'occhi" really mean? The literal translation is "with four eyes". and when I heard the two men talking in the Alimentari, the meaning was much more that just "with four eyes", I understood it to mean only 4 eyes in other words, in private.

I started thinking about the phrase and the beauty of it and how significant it was. I started thinking of all of the emails and phone conversations that were misunderstood and how this could have been avoided if instead I had spoken to the people involved "a quattr'occhi". The eyes tell so much, they really are the windows of our souls. They give clues as to what we are thinking and feeling. When the eyes are smiling we know it's a genuine smile. Is the person looking at our eyes or avoiding them? So, off I go and googled a quatrr'occhi. Yes, the meaning was right on. I also found a video “A quattr’occhi with Dio” with Massimo Troise, an actor I loved in " Il Postino". This video introduced me to another side of Massimo Troisi.

A quattr'occhi con Dio” Massimo Troisihttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=27F2njMwnto&NR=1

I had seen "Il Postino" and fell in love with Massimo Troisi, a sensitive loving and handsome man. I never knew before today, that he was also a comedian with a lot to say. In this video he's having a private conversation with God and he's demanding of God an explanation for all he's done. He questions God’s haste in creating the world in 6 days. He says the animals are complaining, like the elephant thinks his nose is too long… a very amusing soliloquy of a poor man angrily speaking with his God. He says the ten commandments were made to benefit the rich- After all, who would want to covet or steal his old hoody! What was that nonsense and chaos that God caused just because a young girl ate an apple! By the way you should check it out as it is very funny, if you can understand Italian, better yet the Neapolitan dialect.

This form of communication obviously isn't, "aquattr’occhi", it's almost the New Year and I hope in the coming 2011 I will be speaking to all of you a quattr’occhi.

Our Passion For Collecting

2010-12-16T16:07:00.000-05:00

Is it the internet that is helping old friends get back in touch with friends from their past or is it just another stage of life that we go through or is it both. Through Facebook, I have renewed many old friendships. One of these is a friendship with my friend Ellen whom I met through our passion for collecting. Collecting is a not only a lot of fun but for some of us, collecting lies at the core of our very existence. Collecting is not just about collecting great treasures but also in making and "collecting" new friends. Hunting for both is an adventure which is different and unique for each. Each one newly found, has its own "story.' In truth, it's a history lesson that teaches us many valuable skills. First is being able to identify, then select and, lastly evaluate. Financially, my collector friends, when faced with hard times during this recession, were able to survive by selling off their collections and also by counting on one another.

I met Ellen many years ago when I was in the midst of my collecting phase. I collected just about everything, but my passion was bakelite and costume jewelry. Ellen, collected everything that was Victorian. The Victorian period was her passion, especially paintings on Ivory. She has very long dark beautiful hair and she lookes like one of the victorian ivory portraits that she so much likes.

Going to the 26th street, and the 67th street flea markets on the w/e's, was our time to hunt for treasures and be with friends. We looked forward to the w/e. Ellen and I would meet and then go on our own way to find our cherished treasures - only to meet again at a diner and have our breakfast. It wasn't so much the breakfast that we were looking forward to, but it was the opportunity to look at our goodies and share our finds with a friend. Sometimes, Ellen would say, Frances, didn't you see that this brooch has been repaired, or this necklace is not original and I would shriek, and I would vouch to be more careful next time, and the next w/e it would be the same. Most of the time, I would have bought some really amazing treasures, which along with fond memories would be cherished for many years to come. I can still remember our oohs and aahs when looking at our goodies and complimenting ourselves on our finds. Ellen had great taste and always came up with the perfect item.

After many years, here we are again "thanks to Facebook " on the phone to find out she is no longer buying antique and Victorian jewelry nor am I buying anything either. Actually I have divested myself of just about everything material. My interests are now elsewhere and so are Ellen's. Her sister has left her job and opened an exclusive pet shop, specializing in dog items. No live animals. I immediately checked out her website and OMG. It's amazing. Check out the website at www.causetopaws.com She has everything I would want for my daughter's dog NIKE. HERE WE ARE AGAIN SHARING A MUTUAL INTEREST. It's just amazing after all these years -it's like time has not passed - we went from one passion to another.

While our passion for collecting inanimate objects has decreased, our passion for "collecting" friendships has increased. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BPTOY8FrvNw simon and garfunkel song old friends

"Wilkie Collins: A Modern Man From the 1800's"

2010-11-29T19:32:00.003-05:00

For you out there who have difficulty getting to sleep at night or needing distraction during the day, here is my remedy - read Wilkie Collins books. After my daughter finished reading his book "The Moonstone", she came over to me and said "mom, you should read this book I think you would like it". Considering that she had been right numerous times before, I gladly accepted her suggestion. I had no idea how powerful and engrossing this book would be and I couldn't put it down once I had started reading it. I devoured all 400+ pages which caused me to forget everything else. I thoroughly enjoyed it! - written in the mid 1800's, this author was way ahead of his time. I loved his characters, especially the women who are depicted as independent, strong and exceptionally intelligent. After reading the book, I launched into finding out more about him. Now I like him even more. He is a man after my own heart!. He neither believed in marriage nor religion, He believed in a committed relationship without the need of a marriage certificate.

A few days after finishing reading "The Moonstone", Alanna, comes back from the library with yet another Wilkie book, " Armadale" and says, would you like to read it but I'm warning you it's twice the lenghts of the other one. I said," Oh no! I have way too much work, and he is so addictive, I better wait", but the book was staring at me and finally, i couldn't help picking it up and I started on the enterprise. Three days later, no sleep, no going out, no cooking....I finished the book - and again, I was more convinced than ever that I wanted to read more of his books. "Armadale" has a plot with lots of twists and turns.

Instead of detesting Lydia Gwilt for being a murderess, I actually liked her character, she was strong, independent, smart and masquing her ability to love and be loved. Collins again, shows himself as a man ahead of his time with the psychological profile of his character of Lydia Gwilt and the two Allan Armadales. This story also delves in fate and the superatural as Mr. Midwinter often says " What is to be will be". "che sara' sara'"
My dear friends, I recommend this book totally. Reading these books was like watching a movie, or perhaps more like a soap opera- where he describes every scene, life as it was during the 19th Century, the laws of the time, their culture and beliefs but somehow he transcends this era and brings it right to today.

Bialetti Coffee Maker

2010-11-06T18:19:00.005-04:00

So, after living in Rome for about 5 years it became apparent to me that in almost every home there was a Bialetti coffee espresso maker, but all I could think about was the Neapolitan coffee maker that I grew up with, called The Napolitana, this is the one that my grandmother used. My grandmother was not a Napoletana but a Romagnola. She loved her coffee and La Napolitana coffee maker is the one she carried with her everywhere she went. As a child when my grandmother had some free time she'd say, "Francolina, let's go to Naples for a good cup of coffee" we'd all file into the car and the long 2 to 3 hour drive began. The adults would have their special coffee and my sister and I would have the most delicious pizza ever.

Now four years later, I find myself at the Porto Rico coffee shop in the West Village and Bialetti's name comes up again. Having run out of my coffee from San'Eustachio, which I bring back from Rome, I have no idea which coffee to purchase and I ask the salesperson, a charming young man, probably the same age as my daughters, to recommend a strong espresso bean. He asked whether I wanted it ground, and whether I used a Bialetti. I go into my story how every home in Italy has one...and find myself engaged in a quite informative conversation about different coffee makers with the young man. Of course I bought his favorite BLEND, and to top it off it was on sale too!

At home, I kept thinking why the Bialetti espresso maker has become so popular and the number one choice all over Italy. All Italians and coffee lovers know that the best coffee in Italy is in Naples, there have been debates about it, is it the water? is it the way the coffee beans are roasted? is it the humidity? is it the coffee pot? No one knows, all I know is, it is by far the best coffee I have ever had. And the same debate would be about the pizza as it was for the coffee, is it the water?...

So, I ask again, what makes Bialetti the #1 coffee maker in Italy and why do I have a Bialetti in my home and not the Napolitana. Maybe, because it's easier to use, more accessible, or just following the trend?

Polenta

2010-10-26T21:06:00.005-04:00

Lately, I've been to some very good Italian restaurants and Polenta was on the menu. As a little girl in Italy, Polenta was one of my favorite Primo Piatto. The process is long but straight forward. One needs:

1 pound coarsely ground corn meal, preferably stone-ground.
2 quarts boiling water, keep some water boiling on the side.
A teaspoon of salt.

Boil water in a wide bottomed pot and add the salt. When it comes to a boil, slowly add the corn meal stirring constantly with a wooden spoon, always stir in the same direction, to keep lumps from forming. Keep stirring for abut 40 minutes.

Of course Polenta requires a tasty topping. a few examples: Marinara sauce, Meatballs, Sausages, Broccoletti and Sausages, Ricotta and all kinds of Cheeses and vegetables....on and on. This is a very creative dish with many ways to cook and top it.
Polenta is not only a savory dish but it can also be made as a dessert. If there are any leftovers it can be equally tasty, fried, grilled or just left plain with your choice of sweet or savory toppings. For savory: Just about anything but I especially like it with a light fresh tomato sauce and fried until crispy. And for sweet: Top it with honey, nuts, ricotta or fruits. Enjoy!!!

Back at the restaurant, I eagerly order my Polenta and find it not to be authentic. What a disappointment. its not my memory of it at all. My beautiful memories, of my family taking turns stirring the Polenta. While we stirred, We laughed, told jokes and drank wine as we patiently waited for the perfect meal.

These memories of Polenta are tempting me to start my own restaurant so that my friends will be able to enjoy what I enjoyed back when I was a child.

PS
do not stop stirring the polenta otherwise it will stick and burn

PPS
To serve, it's poured out onto a wooden board or on individual plates

"Essere Nonna" "Being A Grandmother" by Viki

2010-10-13T13:22:00.004-04:00

Essere Nonna dicevano tutti " è diverso dall'essere mamma, è di più!"
wauuu! è bellissimo : questo esserino sorridente, con le braccine sempre tese,
con gli occhi sgranati sul mondo, e i pianti , gli urli...
tutto è bello di lei !

La guardi e cerchi tua figlia neonata e torni indietro a quegli anni faticosi,
sempre di corsa, sempre impegnata, ti rendi conto che non te la sei goduta
veramente la maternità perchè dovevi battere su mille fronti. e le nottate:..
Non ne parliamo!!!!

la mattina mi vestivo senza guardarmi, mi sono messa anche scarpe diverse,
vestiti a rovescio...e intanto lei cresceva....
ora c'è la nipotina e lei sì che ma la godo. anche anche ora tanta fatica
perchè vuoi aiutare tua figlia, vedi che ha bisogno di te, ti cerca sempre, ti
chiama.
ritrovi con lei un legame diverso di cui ignoravi l'esistenza, ma intanto ti
spupazzi la bimba, deliziosa principessa, piccola tiranna che già mostra i suoi
pugnetti alla vita
viki

Being a grandmother They all said " it's different than being a mother, it is more! " wauuu! it is beautiful: this smiling little being, with her little arms always stretched out, with her eyes sgranati on the world, and the tears, the screams…
Everything is beautiful about her!

You look at her and you search for your daughter when she was an infant and you go back to those difficult laborious years, always on the run, always with too many engagements, you realize that you really did not enjoy being a mother because you had to wear too many hats. and the sleepless nights...!let's not talk about them!!!

In the morning I dressed without looking at myself, I even wore two different shoes, my dresses inside out...in the meanwhile she grew…. now there's the little granddaughter and yes I do enjoy her, even now with lots of hard work because I want to help my daughter, I see that she needs me, she's always looking for me and she calls.

I find in her a bond which is stronger than I thought could ever exist. In the meanwhile I cuddle the baby girl, the delightful princess, this little tyrant who already approaches life with pluck.
Viki

Recession Recipe - Spaghetti Aglio Olio E' Peperoncino

2010-09-27T15:53:00.001-04:00

I'm too hungry to go shopping and there's nothing in the house. What to do? Make Spaghetti Aglio Olio E' Peperoncino.

In the late 60's and 70's in Italy, we would go out in groups and stayed out till the wee hours of the morning. Hungry, we would gather at someones home and make spaghetti Aglio Olio e Peperoncino. It was easy, simple and delicious. We'd open up a bottle of wine, Red, White or Rose', whatever was available and we continued our partying at the kitchen table.

This is what I'm having for lunch today. Even though I have parsley growing on my balcony and Pecorino Romano and Parmigiano Reggiano in the fridge. I'm going to eat it as it was intended and bring back some of those fun memories.

The advantage of this pasta is that Aglio Olio e Peperoncino are the basic ingredients for just about all the traditional Italian sauces, the ingredients are easily found in Italian kitchens, but most of all it can be made cheaply without seasonal or store-bought ingredients,

What's needed:

1 lb of spaghetti or (fettucini)
4 cloves of garlic (minced)
2 hot peppers (to taste)
1/4 cup olive oil ( virgin olive oil)

How to do it:

In a large pasta pan, bring lightly salted water to a boil; add the spaghetti and don't overcook them, cook them "AL Dente". While the spaghetti are cooking, in a large saute' pan warm the olive oil, then add the minced garlic and crushed hot peppers. Sauté them together until the garlic turns lightly golden. Turn off the heat (the garlic will continue to brown, make sure it's not to brown as we don't want it to be bitter.

Drain the cooked spaghetti and transfer them to the sauté pan. Stir the spaghetti into the sauce, mixing well, about 1 minute. Serve immediately. If needed or desired, fresh olive oil can be added after it's prepared. The predominant flavor Peperoncino is what makes all three ingredients mix together well to give it that special taste, however the most important ingredient is sharing this with your loved ones and special friends.

Now that you have the base of most of the Italian sauces. You can have fun and be creative, you can add anything to it that you like as long as it is in season and fresh... tomatoes, fish, meat, panchetta, artichockes.... another great recipe is ricotta with pepper and basil.

Stay tuned for the next simple recipe.

Realigning The Prospective

2010-09-23T19:44:00.003-04:00

I received an email from my friend Marcy asking me to forward a link of my blog to her friend. Her friend's husband recently left her and their child for another woman. But before he left he cleared the checking accounts.

To all of you who have been deserted by former loved ones, and left in a state of shock, I'd like to reassure you that there is a bright light at the end of that tunnel.

Try to remember that the person you loved, was not at all the person you THOUGHT you knew! just a figment of your imagination! For the one you loved would not have betrayed you..accept this and prepare to move on, to something so much better.. open yourself up to the many adventures ahead...

There's movie that I saw back in the 70's that deals with just what you are going through, you might want to rent it. "An Unmarried Woman" describes the loss, ,the hurt of being rejected, the pain suffered from the betrayal but most importantly, it shows how she redifines who she is and becomes a stronger and more independent person.

An Unmarried Woman (1978) More at IMDbPro »

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Erica is unmarried only temporarily in that her successful, wealthy husband of seventeen years has just left her for a girl he met while buying a shirt in Bloomingdale's. The film shows Erica coming to terms with the break-up while revising her opinions of herself, redefining that self in its own right rather than as an extension of somebody else's personality, and finally going out with another man. Erica refuses to drop everything for Saul, an abstract expressionist painter, simply out of love for him because
he expects her to. It is not so much loneliness that is her problem, and the problems that men, flitting around this newly "available" woman like moths round a flame, bring to her sense of independence. Written by alfiehitchier

The same kind of thing happened to Toto, (Italian actor, comedian, playright, poet, songwriter), and Look how he dealt with it. this story is a little different. Toto' and his ex-wife Diana Bandini made an agreement to stay together until their daughter Liliana left the house. She didn't keep her promise, and remarried. Heartbroken Toto' wrote a heart wrenching song and dedicated it to her. "Malafemmena" is considered one of the best neapolitan pop songs covered by many artists worldwide, including Elvis Presley. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q3f9bKPZH14&feature=related
"Malafemmena" is written in the neapolitan dialect http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ZnOmjj_Suw&feature=related

"Malafemmena" "Evil Woman"

Si avisse fatto a n'ato If you did to someone else
chello ch'e fatto a mme what you did to me
st'ommo t'avesse acciso, this man would have killed you,
tu vuò sapé pecché? Do you want to know why?

Pecché 'ncopp'a sta terra Because on this earth
femmene comme a te women like you
non ce hanna sta pé n'ommo should not be here for a man
onesto comme a me!... honest like me!...

Femmena Woman
Tu si na malafemmena You are an evil woman
Chist'uocchie 'e fatto chiagnere.. You made these eyes cry..
Lacreme e 'nfamità. tears and infamy.

Femmena, Woman
Si tu peggio 'e na vipera, You are worse than a viper,
m'e 'ntussecata l'anema, You intoxicated my soul,
nun pozzo cchiù campà. I can't live anymore,

Femmena Woman
Si ddoce comme 'o zucchero Your sweet just like sugar
però sta faccia d'angelo But this angel face
te serve pe 'ngannà... is made to deceive...

Femmena, Woman
tu si 'a cchiù bella femmena, You are the most beautiful woman,
te voglio bene e t'odio I love you and I hate you
nun te pozzo scurdà... I can't forget you...

Te voglio ancora bene I still love you
Ma tu nun saie pecchè But you don't know why
pecchè l'unico ammore Because you have been
si stata tu pe me... the only love for me...
E tu pe nu capriccio And for one fancy of yours
tutto 'e distrutto,ojnè, all has been destroyed
Ma Dio nun t'o perdone But God will not forgive you
chello ch'e fatto a mme!... What you have done to me!...

These are just two stories out of millions, There are lots of possibilities for us to keep growing, learning and creating. We have to seize the moment and have fun. We have to find the solution that fits with who we are. As John Lennon says "Whatever gets you through the night is all right". You will find your own path and deal with it in your own way. I wish you lots of luck. Writing in my journal is what got me trough the night.

"A NEW UNDERSTANDING" By Heloise Lissauer

2010-08-24T19:24:00.002-04:00

About 5 months ago I accepted a job working for the US Census Bureau it was not something I had planned on.

I had spent my entire working career in fashion, but the world had turned upside down, jobs had disappeared and I wanted to work.

I suddenly found myself in a strange alien world of many forms and initials.. Nothing was ever called what it was. The office was the LCO my boss was a CL his boss was an FOS. To my complete surprise I loved what I was doing and went to work with a happy attitude that I did not have in the fashion industry. Yes I was making 75 percent less a week, but people were grateful that I was doing an excellent job and I had more thanks you's in five months then I had in my 20 year career in fashion.

My job was to interview households. I worked in two very different categories the first was in the multi million dollar homes of Fifth Ave. The second category was in tenements in some very poor sections of East Harlem. At first I was a little scared to go into an area I had never been, but I discovered another strange thing.

The residents of the million dollar homes were on the whole not very easy to deal with, but when I got to the less fortunate tenants in East Harlem everyone and I mean everyone was so nice. I came home telling my friends this, and this past Sunday in the NY Times an article appeared on how when it comes to charity the poor are much more proportionally generous then the rich. Of course it is the rich who can give the big donations but it turned out percent wise charity to earnings the poor win.

I started watching begging on the subway and realized it was the poorly dressed who would give money not the riders in their designer clothing.

Because I was so happy at my job, when the Census recently terminated 150,000 employees and kept 60 employees, (not a typo) I was one of the 60. So I discovered what I never had realized before that making big money is not the only key to happiness.

I certainly no longer have the buying power I used to have but like the residents in the tenements I am happier and more generous in my life then when I was bringing home the big bucks.

Heloise Lissauer

Land of Mine

2010-08-22T06:24:00.002-04:00

Sidney and I were headed to the beach; since we missed the direct train to Terracina, we took the one to Monte San Biagio. Theoretically the bus was to be waiting for us, but as customary in Italy, this was just a theory, the bus wasn't there. So we waited under the hot sun, we waited, and waited. I called my friend Rossella, she had gone back to her hometown and was telling me all about the people she had met up with, people she had not seen for over 40 years. She was happy. I started thinking about an old song that always made me cry "Paese Mio" by Jose Feliciano http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VJP3gQxpeNg

Hot and impatient I start to look around and to my delight, I see an elderly man picking figs from a tree, I immediately made my way over, the gentle man started sharing his pickings with me. And so here I am feeling 8 years old all over again and the song “Paese Mio” rang even louder in my ears. Then I started thinking of the little town I moved to in the states and thought of the song "My little town" by Simon and Garfunkel http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BZmhg-ntiXQ. Two different worlds, two different cultures, two different towns.

It’s all clear to me now. I came to Rome because I needed to get back to my roots, just like Rossella, who in the past few years has been going back to her paese. I was trying to reconnect with the person that I was, the person that I am, who I will be. My life was changing, my daughters were becoming adults and no longer needed me. My accounting profession was over, it had been taken over by my ex. I had lost my identity and it was time for a change. I knew it had to be a change in my career, but what was I going to do? The last time I had needed a big change I came to Italy for almost a year and found my answer.

NYC is where my life has been, and in familiar places it’s as if I can see my footprints. I recognize them as I walk through the streets and they give me comfort and a feeling of security. New York City is my only home. There are no footprints imbedded in the cobble stones here in Rome but at times I see my family in my mind, I see them walking in the streets, drinking coffee in the bars, I see them everywhere and I miss them. Here in Italy is where my roots are. Sometime I go to the cemetery and visit with them and it gives me time to cry and it reminds me of who I am. Strangely enough, my daughters feel similarly about this cemetery in Italy, they feel a connection to their roots. I remember the first time Alanna saw my father’s grave, a little mausoleum, with the name Cavaricci in the front with pictures of him and his mother and his sister. These are people she never got to meet or know directly. She began to cry. She too felt the connection with her roots.

For the first time I realize that there is a difference between home and roots. I couldn’t understand why I kept coming here when my home sweet home is NYC. My daughters have also understood this fundamental balance, in completely different ways. Alanna, like me, sees Italy as the place where her roots lie. Her sister, Sidney, born and raised in the same house, feels quite the opposite. Her roots are in New York, but her true home is here in Rome.

As Sidney and I walk along the seashore, we watch all the Italian families laugh and yell at each other, eating their various trays of home-made lunches; the quiet tourists gently wading into the water. We see the vendors, almost all immigrants from Africa, India, the Middle East, they weave in between these families, selling their trinkets and cheap clothes so that they can send some money back to their families. Lugging heavy bags back and forth across the hot sand. We always try to buy something from them every year, they are always grateful and thankful when we do and they are friendly and inquisitive (especially about NYC), the kind of people that America was built by: hard working, sincere, with a purpose. My heart goes out to them, I imagine how hard it must be for them to be in a foreign land, far away from their family and friends with no roots and no footprints, other than the ones washed away by the waves.

Lyrics to Paese Mio :
Paese mio che stai sulla collina (My little town that’s on the hill)
disteso come un vecchio addormentato (stretched out like a sleeping old man)
la noia l'abbandono (the boredom, abandonment)
niente son la tua malattia (nothing I am your illness)
paese mio ti lascio e vado via (my town I’m leaving you and I’m going away)
che sarà che sarà che sarà (what will be what will be what will be)
che sarà della mia vita chi lo sa (what will be of my life who knows)
so far tutto o forse niente (I can do everything or maybe nothing)
da domani si vedrà (as of tomorrow we will see)
e sarà sarà quel che sarà (and it will be, it will be what it will be)
amore mio ti bacio sulla bocca (my love I kiss you on the lips)
che fu la fonte del mio primo amore (that was the source of my first love)
ti do l'appuntamento (I’m giving you a date)
come e quando non lo so (how and when I don’t know)
ma so soltanto che ritornerò (but I only know that I will return)
che sarà che sarà che sarà (what will be, what will be, what will be)
che sarà della mia vita chi lo sa (what will be of my life who will know)
con me porto la chitarra (with me I will bring my guitar)
e se la notte piangerò (and if at night I cry)
una nenia di paese suonerò (I will play a folk song of the town)
Gli amici miei son quasi tutti via (my friends have almost all gone away)
e gli altri partiranno dopo me (and the others will be leaving after me)
peccato perché stavo bene in loro compagnia (It’s a shame because I liked being in their company)
ma tutto passa tutto se ne va (But everything passes, everything goes away)
che sarà che sarà che sarà (what will be, what will be, what will be)
che sarà della mia vita chi lo sa (what will be of my life who knows)
so far tutto o forse niente (I can do everything or maybe nothing)
da domani si vedrà (as of tomorrow we will see)
e sarà sarà quel che sarà (and it will be, it will be that which will be)
che sarà che sarà che sarà (what will be, what will be, what will be)
che sarà della mia vita chi lo sa (what will be of my life who knows)
so far tutto o forse niente (I can do everything or maybe nothing)
da domani si vedrà (as of tomorrow we will see)
e sarà sarà quel che sarà (and will be will be that which will be)
Che sarà sarà (what will be will be)

You have to earn that

2010-07-11T10:48:00.001-04:00

I was out on my morning walk with Nike the other day, my hair uncombed, my face unwashed, when out of nowhere this young man looks directly into my eyes and tells me "I love your hair!" and than adds "You had to earn that". I loved the phrase, I had never thought of my gray hair that way. But he was right, I did earn it. It took 62 years to get this way and every strand has a story. All the stories that have made me who I am today, all the stories that have given me the confidence and the strength to go on even when things seem to be falling apart.

When I was growing up it was a fact that graying men were distinguished and graying woman were just plain old. In my early 40's my hair started going grey and with that I had a decision to make. I thought about my options; should I become a slave to my hair, subject myself to a time consuming exercise to keep up the pretence of youth? Many of my friends would tell me, "Color your hair and you will lose 10 years, easy". It was a difficult decision. There had been incidents; one where a man thought I was my then life partner's mother, and another when a woman took me for my youngest daughter's grandmother. I asked my little Sidney if it bothered her that her friend's mother thought I was her grandmother, and being the wonderful little encourager that she was, looked up at me and said, "Mommy, you don't look old. It's just that people see the white hair and most of the time only grandmothers have white hair. I like your white hair."

Today 20 years later I am so happy to see, that women 50+ in Hollywood are changing the image. Women with grey hair are not only distinguished, but also sexy, beautiful, and secure. Helen Mirren, Judy Dench, Vanessa Redgrave, Meryl Streep, Glen Close, and many others have earned their grey hair.

Because Kelly Osbourne, Pixie Geldorf and many more are sporting their grey hair, I have been noticing lots of young women on the NYC streets following the trend by dying their hair grey. Grey has become the new fashion statement. If you are a young fashionista grey hair is what's in. These woman in their 20's are choosing to go grey. Much more subtle than the green, orange, blue and purple of past days.

I would never have thought this day would come. A big step for women, we have gained the right to vote, we have burned our bras, we can be single rather than spinsters, we can be mothers without being wives, and now we've gone grey. I love it.

Some Of My favorite Summer Recipes

2010-06-27T17:28:00.006-04:00

Everyone is talking about Diet. The Nutritional Value of Diet and that eating properly keeps you healthy and slim. Nutritionists say that the Mediterranean diet is one of the healthiest. All this talk made me think of my favorite Italian Minestra - Minestrone "The Big Soup". It's delicious and healthy. My friend Rossella's father thought so too. He lived to be 101. He attributed his good health and longevity to eating fresh minestrone every day of his life. This soup is so good with so many different possible recipes that it's a crime to repeat it. Every time you make it it's different and every time it's delicious.

As a little girl I would go to the market with my mother and everyday and every season the vegetables were different and therefore so was the soup. I used to look forward to the new season that brought my favorite vegetables; while some children anxiously awaited their summer vacation, all I was waiting for were the tomatoes and the fava beans; when classes resumed in the Fall, roasted Chestnuts were always a favorite but cauliflower and pumpkin made that minestrone oh so sweet;

At Christmas, the traditional sweets were definitely on my list but the artichokes took first place, during Easter break I feasted on asparagus and beets.

This, like many other Italian traditions,I passed on to my daughters, and they enjoyed it just as much as I did. While living in Italy with my daughter and her dog, Nike I was able to give her that same experience I had had. Living near Campo d' Fiori going to the fresh food market in the morning meant no more than a short stroll with Nike. By the time Sidney came home from school there would be a bowl of hot minestrone on the table? in the winter, and a cold bowl in the summer. Nike enjoyed the minestrone just as much as we did and always begged for seconds!

Here are some of the recipes from my Italian childhood that are both healthy and delicious. Of course I am no chef and have never followed a recipe, as a true Italian I make it up as I go along, therefore I will give you the base ingredients and the rest is up to you. First I give you, Minestrone. It can be one of the most creative and inventive minestre. A minestra that gives you a chance to be an artist.

You start by boiling water in a deep pan, to this water you add onions, garlic, carrots, celery, potato, and beans. After about 15 minutes add tomatoes and all the wonderful fresh and in-season vegetables you can find. The more the merrier. I always include chile peppers, not only do they help your circulation but you may never need to spend another penny on viagra. http://www.academiabarilla.com/italian-culinary-tradition/spice-herbs-dressings/peperoncino.aspx. Once all of your vegetables are in the pot, cover it and let it cook for another 15 minutes or until it's done to your liking. Spices are optional and encouraged.

Before serving put a little "first cold pressed olive oil" in the bottom of your bowl and add fresh parsley on top. Sometimes I also grate some Parmigiano Reggiano on top. You can have it over pasta, rice, barley or toasted bread. Toasted bread should be added at the bottom of the bowl with the olive oil. Any combination you choose is delicious and this is one plate that never gets boring. It so much resembles life and all the changes that it brings. 10cc thought so too as they wrote a song about it "Life is a Minestrone" 1975 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jKG6CJWISVo

You my ask yoursef what does this have to do with life changes. Everything, changing your diet for the better is always a step forward.

Stay tuned for the next recipe.

Acceptance

2010-06-12T13:01:00.003-04:00

After reading "Unbreak My Heart" in Ann Munday's Musing http://annmundaymusing.blogspot.com/2010/06/unbreak-my-heart.html?, about the Five Stages of Grieving, I started thinking about these stages; Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance, and what they really mean to me. The first four stages seem to be automatic, a natural process and easily recognizable. The final stage is the most ambiguous as well as the most difficult to arrive at.

I have had many friends who have suffered the loss of a loved one, through their stories, ones that I have heard, and my own experience, I realized that Acceptance is the most difficult of these stages and for some totally unattainable. That's why there are so many songs sung, so many poems and books and blogs written, so many movies produced. We need to adjust to the loss, make it a part of our life. If we don't go through the last stage all the other stages keep coming back. it's like being on a treadmill unable to get off.

So what do we do, we try meditation, we read what Buddah and the Dalai Lama have to say, we try new interests, we surround ourselves with family and friends. We try everything possible, but to no avail. We still miss our losses, they will always stay with us. We have to find a way to incorporate them into our lives. These experiences make us richer, more understanding and compassionate people. I grew to understand that Acceptance is not stopping the pain, it's merely learning to live with the pain and the loss.

So how do we deal with the loss of a loved one, the loss of our home, the loss of our careers, the loss of our finances and the pain that comes along with it. Of course we all have our different ways of dealing with them. John Lennon conveyed it well - that 'Whatever Gets You Through The Night', 'is all right',meaning that we must do whatever works for us to get us through our pain, and from my mother's generation a similar directive from Eduardo di filippo, Italian playwright and philosopher, who ends one of his plays with "Ha da passa' 'a nuttata," which translated is, you got to get through the nights.

For example, my Zia Mara, lost her daughter through leukemia over 30 years ago, when Ines was still in her teens. Every night from the day of her death to this day, she writes beautiful letters to Ines, telling her all that is happening in her life and in the world, she tells her how much she and everyone loves her. My aunt saves these letters and she is convinced that through these letters she is communicating with Ines. This is how my zia deals with the loss of her daughter. Is this acceptance?

Growing up I have had several friends who lost their mothers at a young age and yet all of them felt that their mothers were right there protecting them. Still, these women today, in their sixties, are missing their mothers. Yes, they have had happy lives, have succeeded in their careers and had wonderful families of their own. Yes, they all spent many many years in therapy. So, is this Acceptance?

As I have learned through my life experience, our loved ones will never be forgotten, we have a special place reserved inside of us for the special people who have touched us. Our life is still beautiful, but there will always be that empty space that no one can fill; that space reserved for that special person. This to me is Acceptance.