A couple of weeks ago we headed out to the country in the old front-wheel drive sleigh to embrace the frosty majesty of the winter landscape and select that most important of Christmas symbols. Our Christmas Tree. Ain't she a beaut.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Honorary Italian
One big difference I notice between New York and Oregon is that New Yorkers are very in tune to their ethnic backgrounds. Many New Yorkers are just a generation or two removed from their home country and still practice honored traditions. Maybe Oregon is just too far west and all the traditions got lost on the trail or maybe I just don't personally feel an ethnic connection because of my mutt status. (I'm Finnish and Scottish on my mother's side but my dad's side is a mystery. Even if I were to celebrate my heritage, what do people in Finland do anyway?) In Rochester, neighborhoods are clustered around heritage (the German Swillburg), certain businesses are owned and frequented by transplants (Italian Martuchiello's Bakery) and several festivals honor homeland traditions (Greek Fest).
Jay's father, Richard, was first generation Irish. Jay's mother, Teri, is first generation Italian. This last year I've been introduced to a lot of Catholic and Italian traditions. Rubino's, our favorite Italian Deli, features tasty Italian fare such as pizzelle's (an anise flavored wafer cookie), soppersada (salami), canolli (a delicious cheese filled dessert), an intense olive bar and of course plenty of espresso. Any given day you are likely to meet several older Italians converging over a provolone and tomato sandwich and speaking Italian.
I've also been exploring Catholic traditions and asking myself, what does it mean to be protestant? (We rock out and don't do the sign of the cross) Tomorrow for Christmas Eve we'll be eating 7 fishes (and I'm not a big fish person). The contrasts are interesting and make me redifine and rediscover myself.
But on the whole, I think I'm being accepted. I can down a cannolli in seconds flat, I say "mingya" to add emphasis, and on a recent quiz identifying types of pasta, I got a 9 out of 10. Plus, I've found my missing brethren, out here, everyone has big noses! Though I'll never lose my roots, I'm becoming an honorary Italian.
Jay's father, Richard, was first generation Irish. Jay's mother, Teri, is first generation Italian. This last year I've been introduced to a lot of Catholic and Italian traditions. Rubino's, our favorite Italian Deli, features tasty Italian fare such as pizzelle's (an anise flavored wafer cookie), soppersada (salami), canolli (a delicious cheese filled dessert), an intense olive bar and of course plenty of espresso. Any given day you are likely to meet several older Italians converging over a provolone and tomato sandwich and speaking Italian.
I've also been exploring Catholic traditions and asking myself, what does it mean to be protestant? (We rock out and don't do the sign of the cross) Tomorrow for Christmas Eve we'll be eating 7 fishes (and I'm not a big fish person). The contrasts are interesting and make me redifine and rediscover myself.
But on the whole, I think I'm being accepted. I can down a cannolli in seconds flat, I say "mingya" to add emphasis, and on a recent quiz identifying types of pasta, I got a 9 out of 10. Plus, I've found my missing brethren, out here, everyone has big noses! Though I'll never lose my roots, I'm becoming an honorary Italian.
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