Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Toilet Repair
I was talking to Aunt Rose the other day and she said “you have to tell the story about fixing your father’s toilet”. I said, “Sure” and hung up the phone. Toilet story…toilet story…what was she talking about? I slowly folded the phone and starred at it while I was attempting to remember. My thumb ran over the buttons on the phone when I noticed a giant U-shaped scar on my thumb. Thirteen stitches if memory serves. Yep, that’s it, the toilet story.
One of the last times I went to visit my dad he asked me to fix the toilet. He said “Tell you what; I’ll make some spaghetti while you replace the seal on the toilet tank”. Nothing is more appetizing than placing your hands in a 30 year old toilet and then eating a hearty meal. I said “Dad please, just call a plumber, please oh please? Those bolts are 30 years old!” Dad countered with “Oh come on you sissy, fix the toilet.” I went downstairs and got his socket set. I distinctly remember the ½ inch socket being cracked. I said, “Dad I can’t fix the toilet because the ½" socket is cracked.” To which Dad replied “Jesus Keee-ripes, when did you break the socket?” I replied “Dad, I haven’t lived here in like 9 years.”
Dad had the perfect solution, “get a hose clamp, tighten it around the cracked socket and it will be fine.” Well the clamp failed, the socket slipped and I cut my thumb in the toilet. There was blood all over the place; it looked like a horror film. I quickly wrapped my hand in a towel and ran up to my Dad. “Dad, I have to go to the hospital, I just cut my hand really bad.”
My father replied with “I went to all this trouble to cook you dinner and you’re leaving? Go to the cellar and get some dressing for the salad.” As I walked down the steps, I remember thinking “how am I going to wash the toilet germs off with one hand and eat?” As I looked the bottle of dressing I thought “Oh hell, it doesn’t matter, I’m going to bleed out before I even finish dinner.” I then checked the expiration date on the bottle of dressing which is something I highly recommend when eating anything at your parent’s house. The dressing expired a year prior…my stomach started to tighten. I walked upstairs and said “Dad, this salad dressing is a collector’s item, and we can’t eat it or we’ll die.” Dad opened the bottle, didn’t even sniff the contents. Not even a whiff. With no hesitation, he took a big slug of the salad dressing like he was drinking a Coke. “It is fine, you sissy.”
As I sat eating dinner, I thought “what are the odds of not getting an infection or food poisoning or bleeding to death.”
Well I finished dinner and went to the emergency room at the hospital. The doctor asked “This injury looks several hours old. Why did you wait so long to come in?” I said “If I tell you what happened, will you pump my stomach?”
Morris
One of the last times I went to visit my dad he asked me to fix the toilet. He said “Tell you what; I’ll make some spaghetti while you replace the seal on the toilet tank”. Nothing is more appetizing than placing your hands in a 30 year old toilet and then eating a hearty meal. I said “Dad please, just call a plumber, please oh please? Those bolts are 30 years old!” Dad countered with “Oh come on you sissy, fix the toilet.” I went downstairs and got his socket set. I distinctly remember the ½ inch socket being cracked. I said, “Dad I can’t fix the toilet because the ½" socket is cracked.” To which Dad replied “Jesus Keee-ripes, when did you break the socket?” I replied “Dad, I haven’t lived here in like 9 years.”
Dad had the perfect solution, “get a hose clamp, tighten it around the cracked socket and it will be fine.” Well the clamp failed, the socket slipped and I cut my thumb in the toilet. There was blood all over the place; it looked like a horror film. I quickly wrapped my hand in a towel and ran up to my Dad. “Dad, I have to go to the hospital, I just cut my hand really bad.”
My father replied with “I went to all this trouble to cook you dinner and you’re leaving? Go to the cellar and get some dressing for the salad.” As I walked down the steps, I remember thinking “how am I going to wash the toilet germs off with one hand and eat?” As I looked the bottle of dressing I thought “Oh hell, it doesn’t matter, I’m going to bleed out before I even finish dinner.” I then checked the expiration date on the bottle of dressing which is something I highly recommend when eating anything at your parent’s house. The dressing expired a year prior…my stomach started to tighten. I walked upstairs and said “Dad, this salad dressing is a collector’s item, and we can’t eat it or we’ll die.” Dad opened the bottle, didn’t even sniff the contents. Not even a whiff. With no hesitation, he took a big slug of the salad dressing like he was drinking a Coke. “It is fine, you sissy.”
As I sat eating dinner, I thought “what are the odds of not getting an infection or food poisoning or bleeding to death.”
Well I finished dinner and went to the emergency room at the hospital. The doctor asked “This injury looks several hours old. Why did you wait so long to come in?” I said “If I tell you what happened, will you pump my stomach?”
Morris
Spooked on Halloween
This evening I was on the phone with Uncle Joe and we were talking about the blog and laughing. I was telling him that one Halloween night, after the trick-or-treaters were gone (treak or treat lasted about 5 hours then,) the doorbell rang and my Dad went to answer it. At the door crawled in, pushing passed my father, Morris. It was an adult with this ugly baby mask on, crawling and crying and rolling all over the kitchen floor. It was funny, but then became kind of frightening. My father was a bit spooked because he had no idea of who this was... this baby had on a big white bonnet, long pj's and just kept crying and hanging on us. My dad finally said "Who the hell are you?" The baby lifted her mask...... It was Aunt Phyll Romeo.
Addition to the Turkey Story
Aunt Rose read Uncle Joe's story and laughed like she just heard it for the first time. (I can't tell you how many times I have heard that story.) She wanted to add that when Grandpa got home after walking with the turkey on the leash he said: "Sum a na bitch (the turkey) lost 2 pound!"
I also wanted to add that I would spend a week at Grandma's in the summer when I was in grade school (my summer vacation) and I cannot tell you how many times I climbed that Bing cherry tree that Dominic mentioned for those delicious cherries. My mother tells me that when I was little, I loved fruit as did Grandpa and even when my mother thought I had had enough, Grandpa would sneak me fruit. Great memories.
I also wanted to add that I would spend a week at Grandma's in the summer when I was in grade school (my summer vacation) and I cannot tell you how many times I climbed that Bing cherry tree that Dominic mentioned for those delicious cherries. My mother tells me that when I was little, I loved fruit as did Grandpa and even when my mother thought I had had enough, Grandpa would sneak me fruit. Great memories.
Best Breakfast Memories
Frequently, I would wake up to the smell of red sauce long simmering on the stove. Occassionally, I would make my way downstairs STARVING and Grandma would cook me breakfast in an odd manner.
See the stove was crowded, guests were over etc., so she would crack a couple eggs on top of the slowly simmering sauce, right into the grease on top of the pot, and cover the pot for a minute or two, then scoop out the eggs and a hunk of sausage onto a piece of bread, maybe even a couple of green beans or "coogotz" (zucchini,) depending on what was "around."
WOW, was that good!
See the stove was crowded, guests were over etc., so she would crack a couple eggs on top of the slowly simmering sauce, right into the grease on top of the pot, and cover the pot for a minute or two, then scoop out the eggs and a hunk of sausage onto a piece of bread, maybe even a couple of green beans or "coogotz" (zucchini,) depending on what was "around."
WOW, was that good!
Pop in the Wine Cellar
Remember the two "fruit" cellars, in the back of the basement at Truesdale? The one was home to canned goods, lots of tomatoes, Bartlett pears, eggplant in oil, dried sausage in oil, and peppers (hot). Those pears came from that tree in the back yard every other year. By the way can you name another yard on earth that had a Bartlett pear tree, a plum tree, a Bing cherry tree (I spent half the summer in that tree) and a peach tree all actively growing in it? I digress.
The other fruit cellar was larger and had been the wine cellar in days gone by. The parts of those vintages were still in that room.
Before Christmas every year, Uncle Morris would show up with a Coke truck and unload cases (like 25 of them) of pop and would stack them in the aforementioned fruit cellar. It was always very cool in there, thus the logic was they would be cold and ready to drink whenever needed (for the soon to come holiday gatherings).
I think the other thought was by putting the soda and mixers in there, they would be safe from a certain young boy.
They were wrong...
The other fruit cellar was larger and had been the wine cellar in days gone by. The parts of those vintages were still in that room.
Before Christmas every year, Uncle Morris would show up with a Coke truck and unload cases (like 25 of them) of pop and would stack them in the aforementioned fruit cellar. It was always very cool in there, thus the logic was they would be cold and ready to drink whenever needed (for the soon to come holiday gatherings).
I think the other thought was by putting the soda and mixers in there, they would be safe from a certain young boy.
They were wrong...
Italian Women are Tough
An elderly Italian man was dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite ravioli wafting up the stairs.
He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself from the bed. Gripping the railing with both hands, he crawled downstairs.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into the kitchen, where if not for his death’s agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were hundreds of his favorite ravioli.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a happy man.
He threw himself toward the table, landing on his knees in a crumpled posture. His perched lips parted, the wondrous taste of the ravioli was already in his mouth.
With a trembling hand he reached up to the edge of the table, when suddenly he was smacked with a wooden spoon by his wife... "Back-off," she said, "those are for the Funeral…."
Joseph V. Warino
Sonny's Post
Sonny, your posting was great. Your very lucky to have a mom that does so many nice things for you. To top it off, she sounds like a wonderful cook! Please have her post her pitzelle recipe. I too love pitzelle cookies. I love to try new recipes as much as I love to eat!!!! I can't wait to try her "viscot" recipe and also Aunt Rose's recipe, I'm going to try them this weekend!
Joyce Warino-Palombaro
Joyce Warino-Palombaro
Four Joe Warino's
This was taken last week at the baptism of Joe Warino (Joey) son of Joe Warino (Lil’joe) son of Joe Warino (JoJo) son of Joe Warino (Uncle Joe)...
One Great Turkey Story!
It seems Grandma sent Grandpa out shopping one day for the coming weeks provisions. So after a long night of working, Grandpa headed downtown Youngstown to all his favorite grocery stores for a day of shopping. Having collected all his canned goods and non-perishable items, Grandpa stopped at the meat shop on East Federal, to buy a turkey. The store owner wrapped the turkey (live) with twine and handed it over to Grandpa for his journey home. After walking just a few blocks the turkey became restless, too restless to handle along with all of the other bags of groceries, so Grandpa stopped and reassessed the situation. Grandpa then unwrapped the twine from around the turkey, and carefully crafted it into a collar and leash… He then put the collar on the turkey, picked up his groceries, and walked the turkey home!!! One can only imagine the look on Grandma’s face and her trademark laughter as she watched Grandpa walking down Trusedale Avenue with a turkey on a leash!!!!!
As told by Joe Warino, Sr. (Uncle Joe)
As told by Joe Warino, Sr. (Uncle Joe)
Connie Warino
I thought I would attach a favorite photo of mine of my mother, Connie Warino. Any time I would be out with my Dad (Morris) and he would notice an attractive woman, he would turn to me and say "now that is a good looking woman" the woman always resembled the woman in this photo.Morris Michael
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
How To Create a Screen Name and Log Into Blog Sites
Hello!
Dominic asked me to post how I created an account, I tried to make it as easy to understand as I could and hope I did not miss any steps! Good Luck, it is a bit tricky if you do not have gmail or an already created google account!
1. Go to http://www.blogger.com/i.g?inviteID=835475738625473302&blogID=8504291977204026433 (this is the original link in the e-mail Dominic sent inviting you to join the blog).
2. You will come to a page that says in black letters at the top: DOMINIC ROMEO HAS INVITED YOU TO CONTRIBUTE TO THE BLOG Warino Family BlogSite.
3. If you do not have a Google account: you need to click on the blue underlined words that say “ Create your account now.”
a. You will then be prompted to “Create a Google account” all you really need to do is type in your e-mail address, verify your e-mail address, create a screen name (this is the name that will appear when you write) and pick a password. (this is what you will use when you log into the blog, it is not going to change your actual password for email, so don’t be worried!).
b. You will then have to verify by retyping letters that they give you in green in the verification box, this is to prevent fraud. You also then need to checkmark the box “I agree with the terms of service” to proceed. Then click “Continue”.
4. Once a google account is created, you can then log in using the link in #1 (the link in Dominic’s invite). Your username is your e-mail and your password is the password you selected when you created a google account. Then click “accept invitation” and you are in!
5. If anyone wants me to do it for them, I don’t mind at all. Just shoot me an e-mail at allybaro@aol.com. Hope this helps!
Dominic asked me to post how I created an account, I tried to make it as easy to understand as I could and hope I did not miss any steps! Good Luck, it is a bit tricky if you do not have gmail or an already created google account!
1. Go to http://www.blogger.com/i.g?inviteID=835475738625473302&blogID=8504291977204026433 (this is the original link in the e-mail Dominic sent inviting you to join the blog).
2. You will come to a page that says in black letters at the top: DOMINIC ROMEO HAS INVITED YOU TO CONTRIBUTE TO THE BLOG Warino Family BlogSite.
3. If you do not have a Google account: you need to click on the blue underlined words that say “ Create your account now.”
a. You will then be prompted to “Create a Google account” all you really need to do is type in your e-mail address, verify your e-mail address, create a screen name (this is the name that will appear when you write) and pick a password. (this is what you will use when you log into the blog, it is not going to change your actual password for email, so don’t be worried!).
b. You will then have to verify by retyping letters that they give you in green in the verification box, this is to prevent fraud. You also then need to checkmark the box “I agree with the terms of service” to proceed. Then click “Continue”.
4. Once a google account is created, you can then log in using the link in #1 (the link in Dominic’s invite). Your username is your e-mail and your password is the password you selected when you created a google account. Then click “accept invitation” and you are in!
5. If anyone wants me to do it for them, I don’t mind at all. Just shoot me an e-mail at allybaro@aol.com. Hope this helps!
Viscots, my 2 cents
I have never had Great Grandma's (obviously) or Great Aunt Rose's viscots, but I tried the ones my mom made this weekend. I had them without coffee (or wine, since I am only 12.) They were a bit plain, but I liked the licorice flavor. I also tried the ones she dipped in sugar which I liked more. Mom put some in my school lunch and everybody wanted some even though they had never heard of them before. I shared a few with mixed reviews. I must say that I like the pizzelles she makes at Christmas time much better. They are crispier and sweeter.
Italian Game of "Morra"
I grew up watching a lot of Morra played on Truesdale. Denise did some research for the game and it is detailed below. Seemed like a lot of drinking occured with the games, doubt that had much to do with its popularity? ~Dom
Morra is a hand game that goes back thousands of years to ancient Roman times and is still popular in Italy today. In the Bible, it may have been referred to as "casting lots." In ancient Rome, it was called micatio, and playing it was referred to as "micare digitis"; literally, "to flash with fingers." As time passed, the name became Morra. The game was so common that in ancient Rome that there was a proverb used to describe an honest person: "Dignus est quicum in tenebris mices," which means, "He is a worthy man with whom you could play micatio in the dark."
There are two styles of play. Northern Italians play sitting while Southern Italian players stand and use their whole body and extend their arms to flash their fingers. The purpose of the game is to sharpen the mind while enjoying the company of friends. In the most popular version, players throw out a single hand, each showing zero to five fingers, and call out loud their guess at what the sum of all fingers shown will be. If one player guesses the sum, that player earns one point.
In another version one person is designated the "evens" player while the other is labeled "odds". Players hold one hand out in front and count together to three (sometimes chanting "Once, twice, thrice, SHOOT!" or "One, two, three, SHOOT!") On three, both players hold out either one or two fingers. If the sum of fingers shown by both players is an even number, then the "evens" player wins; otherwise the "odds" player is the winner. Since there are two possible ways to add up to three, both players have an equal chance of winning.
Apparently some variations of Morra involve money. The winner earns a number of dollars equal to the sum of fingers displayed. This might explain why some of the Uncles looked happy and others not so much!
Morra is a hand game that goes back thousands of years to ancient Roman times and is still popular in Italy today. In the Bible, it may have been referred to as "casting lots." In ancient Rome, it was called micatio, and playing it was referred to as "micare digitis"; literally, "to flash with fingers." As time passed, the name became Morra. The game was so common that in ancient Rome that there was a proverb used to describe an honest person: "Dignus est quicum in tenebris mices," which means, "He is a worthy man with whom you could play micatio in the dark."
There are two styles of play. Northern Italians play sitting while Southern Italian players stand and use their whole body and extend their arms to flash their fingers. The purpose of the game is to sharpen the mind while enjoying the company of friends. In the most popular version, players throw out a single hand, each showing zero to five fingers, and call out loud their guess at what the sum of all fingers shown will be. If one player guesses the sum, that player earns one point.
In another version one person is designated the "evens" player while the other is labeled "odds". Players hold one hand out in front and count together to three (sometimes chanting "Once, twice, thrice, SHOOT!" or "One, two, three, SHOOT!") On three, both players hold out either one or two fingers. If the sum of fingers shown by both players is an even number, then the "evens" player wins; otherwise the "odds" player is the winner. Since there are two possible ways to add up to three, both players have an equal chance of winning.
Apparently some variations of Morra involve money. The winner earns a number of dollars equal to the sum of fingers displayed. This might explain why some of the Uncles looked happy and others not so much!
Love this Blog!
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Thanks for including me in this blog. I am loving reading all the stories and I get teared up remembering some of the stories from nunnie and poppy telling me them all the time! Oh, and my mom telling me them, of course! I am Joyce's oldest, Ally. I have a picture of nun and pop and am trying to scan some of their wedding pics! Thanks for connecting everyone Dominic!Allyson Palombaro (Morris and Connie's grand-daughter)
Connie remembers...
Oh and I forgot to tell you.... My mom, Connie.... she remember's what ''AHT TA FAV OOT" means!!!! When I said it, her reply was "Joyce Anne"!!!!!
Joyce
Joyce
MODAY...
I am really enjoying this blog. It is really bringing back so many funny, sad, happy, but most of all, wonderful memories. What about on Sundays and Holidays when all the "boys" would go outside and play (excuse my Italian spelling..... I don't have Italian Spell Check!) MODAY...... They would go outside and yell out, "uno" "duo" "seeeeeeeeeta".... then some "blurrrrrrrrrr" would be said. Then they would come in the house... some happy..... some not so happy... but always ready to "mung" again. Wow, how blessed we are to have had, and have, such wonderful people in our lives!!! Oh and by the way Joann, the picture on the slide show of grandma feeding the goat a bottle... I saw Uncle Vic!!! Man, was he a hottie!!!! He looks like Clark Gable!!! Aunt Rose, thank you for the "Viscot" recipe! I will pass on the TRIPE, which I always thought was chicken fat, but my dad loved!! YUCK! My mom, Connie Warino is enjoying this also. I read it to her every night. She has gotten some real laughs. She said to say hello to everyone!!!
Joyce Warino-Palombaro
Joyce Warino-Palombaro
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Viscots
When it comes to viscots, nobody does them better than Aunt Rose. I have had the pleasure of growing up on Aunt Rose's Viscots!!! As was stated, the greatest treat during every Christmas and Easter Holiday, in my humble opinion was having one of Aunt Rose's Viscots. And if you don’t remember, Sunday mornings, Grandpa Warino breaking the pretzel shaped cookie into small pieces and placing them in his coffee, only to savor with each sip, than your not a Warino!!! No other cookie on this earth has left such a memory etched on my brain. Aunt Rose made some viscots special for our Lindsey’s wedding in 2007. The caterer, not knowing what to do with them , put them in a basket in the bar area. They were gone in minutes!!!! Now I’m hungry for one, or two!!!
Joseph V. WarinoTripe
Grandpa loved tripe, but Grandma didn't like it and wouldn't make it. So Rose cooked a big batch for him, stewed with tomatoes etc.
As he was sitting down to eat some, Blackie came in to visit. He said, "Aahh, mushrooms" and Grandpa said, "Have some." So Blackie sat down and was served some. Not being told what it actually was (Note: this was not uncommon on Truesdale!)
He took a big chewy bite and said, "What the hell kinda mushrooms are these?" and Grandpa laughed and laughed at him. Grandpa teased him about the tripe from then on ....
Aunt Rose
As he was sitting down to eat some, Blackie came in to visit. He said, "Aahh, mushrooms" and Grandpa said, "Have some." So Blackie sat down and was served some. Not being told what it actually was (Note: this was not uncommon on Truesdale!)
He took a big chewy bite and said, "What the hell kinda mushrooms are these?" and Grandpa laughed and laughed at him. Grandpa teased him about the tripe from then on ....
Aunt Rose
Recipe for Viscots
Aunt Rose does not really use a recipe as she knows it by heart but she has found the recipe that she made and used and has given and verified it is correct. Here it is:
Viscots
Mix and set aside:
2 pkgs rapid rise yeast
2 tsp sugar
1 & 1/2 c warm water
In large kettle mix:
6-7 cups flour ( not evenly measured)
1 tsp salt
4 TBSP fennel ( approx)
2 sticks melted margarine
4 large eggs
yeast mixture
Put large kettle of water on to boil. Knead mixture and let sit for a while ( approx 15 min) and knead again until soft dough ( might help if put oil on your hands.) Roll piece of dough into log and shape into pretzel ( approx size of palm of hand.) Let viscots sit on kitchen towel to raise approx 15 -20 min (usually make about 12-15 at a time.) Place 3-4 viscots at a time into boiling water until they rise to the top. Drain on kitchen towels. Bake at 350 on ungreased baking sheet approx 25 min until golden brown. Delicious warm, cold, soft or hard. Store in zip log bags to keep soft. Makes at least 4-5 dozen.
Viscots
Mix and set aside:
2 pkgs rapid rise yeast
2 tsp sugar
1 & 1/2 c warm water
In large kettle mix:
6-7 cups flour ( not evenly measured)
1 tsp salt
4 TBSP fennel ( approx)
2 sticks melted margarine
4 large eggs
yeast mixture
Put large kettle of water on to boil. Knead mixture and let sit for a while ( approx 15 min) and knead again until soft dough ( might help if put oil on your hands.) Roll piece of dough into log and shape into pretzel ( approx size of palm of hand.) Let viscots sit on kitchen towel to raise approx 15 -20 min (usually make about 12-15 at a time.) Place 3-4 viscots at a time into boiling water until they rise to the top. Drain on kitchen towels. Bake at 350 on ungreased baking sheet approx 25 min until golden brown. Delicious warm, cold, soft or hard. Store in zip log bags to keep soft. Makes at least 4-5 dozen.
Misplaced Shoes
This story is as per Aunt Rose telling me it earlier tonight:
Grandpa usually had to walk to Center Street to work. One morning he was ready to go to work and Grandma had been rushing around to make his lunch etc., and he was running late. He couldn't find his shoes.
So he was going aroung the house looking....
"Sam na bitch" "Sam na bitch" "Where are my damn shoes!!!"
Grandma got frustrated with him and said, "What! How am I supposed to know what you did with them or where they are?"
Then they both looked down and realized she was wearing them....
Aunt Rose
Grandpa usually had to walk to Center Street to work. One morning he was ready to go to work and Grandma had been rushing around to make his lunch etc., and he was running late. He couldn't find his shoes.
So he was going aroung the house looking....
"Sam na bitch" "Sam na bitch" "Where are my damn shoes!!!"
Grandma got frustrated with him and said, "What! How am I supposed to know what you did with them or where they are?"
Then they both looked down and realized she was wearing them....
Aunt Rose
You know your from Ohio:
You know your from Ohio when it’s 10 degrees outside, there are winter storm warnings plastered all over the TV and radio, (calling for 5-8 inches of snow) and you take the family out for a ride in the car just to see how really bad it is. Tonight just may be one of those nights!!!
Joseph V. Warino
THE Chicken Story
Grandpa James (Egidio) dressed up nice to go and meet Grandma. This was beginning of their courtship.
He wanted to make a good impression so so he stopped to pick up a gift to take for the visit, I believe she (Fanny) was living with her brother Jim (see earlier posting; "think sour"). Rather than flowers or chocolates, James, ever pragmatic, picked up a live chicken to take to his date.
Of course to add complexity, James had no car. So he rode the bus. Picture him in his suit, with a hat on, holding a live chicken around its neck.
So he got on the bus and found a seat. It was apparently crowded on the bus and there were not many seats available. So he sat down next to a well-dressed woman, whom it seems was less than happy at his seat selection and choice of "gift." The chicken it seemed was stressed by the journey and the grip James had on its neck. At some point during the bus-ride the chicken pooped, right on the woman's leg.
Well she was not happy. James apologized over and over (scuze, scuze) to her and used his hanky to wipe off the poop, which made matters worse it seemed. Finally, he was asked to leave the bus and did so. Now he walked to his destination with his bird.
Arriving late, he came into the house and Grandma, noted a very strong smell. Being poor it had not occurred to James to get rid of the hanky. So there stood James, introduced to Fanny, hot and sweaty from the walk, with a half dead chicken in hand and smelling like chicken-shit. What a catch...
She used to laugh and say, "there was something about him..."
He wanted to make a good impression so so he stopped to pick up a gift to take for the visit, I believe she (Fanny) was living with her brother Jim (see earlier posting; "think sour"). Rather than flowers or chocolates, James, ever pragmatic, picked up a live chicken to take to his date.
Of course to add complexity, James had no car. So he rode the bus. Picture him in his suit, with a hat on, holding a live chicken around its neck.
So he got on the bus and found a seat. It was apparently crowded on the bus and there were not many seats available. So he sat down next to a well-dressed woman, whom it seems was less than happy at his seat selection and choice of "gift." The chicken it seemed was stressed by the journey and the grip James had on its neck. At some point during the bus-ride the chicken pooped, right on the woman's leg.
Well she was not happy. James apologized over and over (scuze, scuze) to her and used his hanky to wipe off the poop, which made matters worse it seemed. Finally, he was asked to leave the bus and did so. Now he walked to his destination with his bird.
Arriving late, he came into the house and Grandma, noted a very strong smell. Being poor it had not occurred to James to get rid of the hanky. So there stood James, introduced to Fanny, hot and sweaty from the walk, with a half dead chicken in hand and smelling like chicken-shit. What a catch...
She used to laugh and say, "there was something about him..."
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Another Chicken Story
I have always been an animal lover. When I was a little girl, I received a Peep (small baby chick) for an Easter present. I took very good care of it and it grew into a chicken. Things were fine until my chicken escaped one day. Mrs. Mezzacappi, our neighbor, was sweeping her sidewalk and my chicken pecked her on her leg. She screamed and Dad came running...so embarrassed. Dad told me that my pet would be much happier living on "the farm". Years later I was recalling what had happened to the chicken and Dad admitted that the farm was on Truesdale Avenue! That's right, Grandma cooked my chicken!!! I didn't speak to my Dad for a week.
Chicken Parts II
Jeanne, your post is sooo funny. I remember Grandma would cook chicken blood and "the boys" would act like it was steak. Can't say I ever tried that. I recall Uncle Morris did a fair amount of hunting and would come over with rabbits and mushrooms from his trips.
In the summer I would routinely be rooting around the freezer for a popsicle and end up pulling out a skinned rabbit always frozen in mid-leap. And my mom wondered why I never believed her when she told me "it's chicken".
That said, I am a big fan of rabbit now, but haven't run across any buckshot since I ate it on Truesdale.
In the summer I would routinely be rooting around the freezer for a popsicle and end up pulling out a skinned rabbit always frozen in mid-leap. And my mom wondered why I never believed her when she told me "it's chicken".
That said, I am a big fan of rabbit now, but haven't run across any buckshot since I ate it on Truesdale.
Chicken Parts
It's so great of Dominic to start this blog and help the family reconnect. It's Sunday and I'm roasting a whole chicken and as I was getting it ready I remembered what my Dad used to tell me about Grandma. He would talk about what a great cook she was and how she could make something out of nothing...much like him. He told me Grandma would cook chicken necks, chicken wings, chicken feet, chicken gizzards, chicken livers and chicken hearts. He loved it all. Dad said he was in his twenties before he knew that a chicken had a body!! Just wanted to share.
Happy Birthday Aunt Rose. You look great!!
Happy Birthday Aunt Rose. You look great!!
Viscots
I just read and showed my mother, Aunt Rose, the postings about the viscots. She does not recall that recipe. That might have been what she was able to determine (years ago) was the recipe that Grandma used (Gram did not actually use a recipe) but the recipe has evolved, and what she does today is similar but different. She only makes them once or twice a year and the next time she makes them I will try to pinpoint exactly what she uses and pass it on. Grandma Warino would love this conversation about her viscots and the fact that her grandchildren are interested in making them. What a tribute.
The Stove
Do you all remember the huge stove in Grandma's basement?
It had a 6 burners and a warmer on top, two ovens and a broiler that steak houses would envy. It was really very nice. One of "the boys" bought it used to replace the stove that was down there. The downstairs stove was where the canning was done in the summer, lard was rendered, and where should would bake bread (as she made like 50 loaves and a few pizzas per "batch;" all the ovens, upstairs and down, were busy).
The thing is, this stove was really big, how big you all failed to realize until it was in the driveway. There was no way this mammoth cooker was going down the basement steps.
So over a weekend in combination, Morris, Nick, Blackie, Joe, Pete and I think I remember Gary in the mix as well, deconstructed the basement stairs lowered the behemoth down into the basement, installed it (and new freezer) and rebuilt the stairs (re-using the same wood!)
I can't adequately put into words what I witnessed that weekend. The highlight being Nick, Blackie and Pete working side by side in that cramped basement. Priceless!
That's the weekend I learned how to swear....
It had a 6 burners and a warmer on top, two ovens and a broiler that steak houses would envy. It was really very nice. One of "the boys" bought it used to replace the stove that was down there. The downstairs stove was where the canning was done in the summer, lard was rendered, and where should would bake bread (as she made like 50 loaves and a few pizzas per "batch;" all the ovens, upstairs and down, were busy).
The thing is, this stove was really big, how big you all failed to realize until it was in the driveway. There was no way this mammoth cooker was going down the basement steps.
So over a weekend in combination, Morris, Nick, Blackie, Joe, Pete and I think I remember Gary in the mix as well, deconstructed the basement stairs lowered the behemoth down into the basement, installed it (and new freezer) and rebuilt the stairs (re-using the same wood!)
I can't adequately put into words what I witnessed that weekend. The highlight being Nick, Blackie and Pete working side by side in that cramped basement. Priceless!
That's the weekend I learned how to swear....
Viscots~~~That's Them!!!!!
Well thank you very much for your research on finding the "Viscots". I will always remember the viscots at Grandma's. Dom, one time when we were all sitting around the kitchen table, my father, Morris got this funny smirk on his face as Uncle Blackie walked in.... You were probably about 5 yrs. old and my dad told you, that you should offer Uncle Blackie a viscot as he walks in the door, showing you how to throw it like a flying saucer..... (of course he told you this when Grandma wasn't in the room) Uncle Blackie walked in and you did as Uncle Morris showed you, hit Uncle Blackie in the head with the viscot and he caught it in his hands. We all started laughing...... but little did we know Grandma came back into the kitchen..... and we heard "DOMINI"..... my dad was laughing hysterically along with Uncle Blackie...... he said something in Italian to Grandma and she burst out laughing....... The uncle's really did get you into a lot of trouble Dominic..... Denise, thank you for your hard work in making the viscots...... you must be a great cook!!!!!! They look beautiful!!!!!
Thanks for the memories,
Joyce
Thanks for the memories,
Joyce
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Smaller Batch of "Viscots"
After re-reading the “Viscot” recipe below and having a bit of experience baking bread, it occurred to me that this recipe must make a HUGE batch of treats! This might be the reason you always remember them being around! Curiosity got the better of me, so I decided to make a smaller batch to see if reducing the amount of the ingredients would still make a decent cookie. According to Dom and my boys, they turned out well. Here is the recipe for a more reasonably-sized batch (1/6 of the original recipe) of “viscots.” For the record, it still made 6 dozen small cookies.
Taralli Baresi
1 teaspoon dry yeast (½ package)
½ cup warm water
2 eggs
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons margarine, melted and cooled
3 ½ cups flour
½ teaspoon black pepper, ground
½ teaspoon anise extract
1-2 Tablespoons anise or fennel seeds
Preheat oven to 425o. Melt margarine and let cool. Put yeast and water in a cup and set aside to bubble. Cream together eggs, sugar, salt and cooled margarine. Add in remaining ingredients and mix, then add yeast mixture and mix again. Place on floured surface and knead well. Set aside 10-20 minutes. Roll into thin logs and form into pretzel shapes. Drop in boiling water. When they rise to the surface, drain on clean towel to cool and dry briefly (a few minutes.) Place on a greased cookie sheet and bake for 20-25 minutes, until golden brown.
Taralli Baresi
1 teaspoon dry yeast (½ package)
½ cup warm water
2 eggs
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons margarine, melted and cooled
3 ½ cups flour
½ teaspoon black pepper, ground
½ teaspoon anise extract
1-2 Tablespoons anise or fennel seeds
Preheat oven to 425o. Melt margarine and let cool. Put yeast and water in a cup and set aside to bubble. Cream together eggs, sugar, salt and cooled margarine. Add in remaining ingredients and mix, then add yeast mixture and mix again. Place on floured surface and knead well. Set aside 10-20 minutes. Roll into thin logs and form into pretzel shapes. Drop in boiling water. When they rise to the surface, drain on clean towel to cool and dry briefly (a few minutes.) Place on a greased cookie sheet and bake for 20-25 minutes, until golden brown.
Note: Because they are not very sweet, I tried my own variation on a few viscots. After draining the viscots on a paper towel, I dipped them in sanding sugar (which is coarser than regular sugar) and baked them as above. They came out with a light sugar crust and were a bit sweeter to eat. Try it and let me know what you think.
Fanny's "Viscots"
In answer to Joyce’s request, I am posting the recipe for “Grandma’s Viscots.” This hand-written recipe was given to Dom on one of his trips to Youngstown. I believe it is Aunt Rose’s handwriting.After doing some research, I found that these cookies are also known as “Taralli Baresi” and can be purchased pre-made from several companies on the internet. Marias' Taralli Inc. in Brooklyn seems to have the largest following. The cookies came to the U.S. with immigrants from the Puglia Region of Italy where Fanny grew up. Taralli Baresi is a cross between a pretzel, and a bagel. It's an unsweetened cookie, savory biscuit. They are to be enjoyed with a glass of wine, coffee or by itself!
Friday, January 23, 2009
Speaking of Cookies
The cookies I was talking about where made to look like pretzel's or circle's. They had fennel seeds in them and grandma always had them at her house.
I love the picture of Aunt Rose on her birthday. God bless you and you look wonderful! Dominic the slide show is great!!!!! I think my mom has some pictures, I will find them and then I will have one of my kid's scan or do whatever you do.......
Joe, I love the story about the FOXES. Your dad came over to visit us and told us the story. We were crying!!!
Hope everyone is doing well! This is great!!! Once again Dom, thanks for all your work. Oh Dom, I just saw Jean Cohen today. Do you remember her? Jean and your mom worked at Sparkle together. She was talking all about your mom and we did have some good laughs.
Joyce Warino-Palombaro
I love the picture of Aunt Rose on her birthday. God bless you and you look wonderful! Dominic the slide show is great!!!!! I think my mom has some pictures, I will find them and then I will have one of my kid's scan or do whatever you do.......
Joe, I love the story about the FOXES. Your dad came over to visit us and told us the story. We were crying!!!
Hope everyone is doing well! This is great!!! Once again Dom, thanks for all your work. Oh Dom, I just saw Jean Cohen today. Do you remember her? Jean and your mom worked at Sparkle together. She was talking all about your mom and we did have some good laughs.
Joyce Warino-Palombaro
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Coffee and Cookies
I just got off the phone with Aunt Rose, we laughed so hard about this story I felt I should post it. Grandma used to tell this story to embarrass me. Here goes....
Grandma had some lady friends to the house. I think the group included Minnie Williams (her first husbands sister whom we always needed to show our best for). It was, as Grandma hoped , to be, a "nice visit", read you behave and make me proud. They even used saucers! However she asked, it sunk in and I was as good a little boy as I had ever been (I really was :-) ).
Coffee and cookies, lots of chatting and I was quite in the front room. Somehow a cup feel to the floor and broke. Hearing it I exclaimed "aht ta fav oot" , this was the Italian term I heard Grandma say a 1000 times when something went wrong. Clearly the true translation had escaped me...
I looked up to see four very stern looks from four very Italian women. Grandma grabbed me and was about to spank me, until it became apparent to her that I had no idea what the word/phrase meant. She blushed and all of her friends laughed and yelled "AHT TA FAV OOT".
It could mean anything, I dont really know. But be careful who you say it in front of.
Grandma had some lady friends to the house. I think the group included Minnie Williams (her first husbands sister whom we always needed to show our best for). It was, as Grandma hoped , to be, a "nice visit", read you behave and make me proud. They even used saucers! However she asked, it sunk in and I was as good a little boy as I had ever been (I really was :-) ).
Coffee and cookies, lots of chatting and I was quite in the front room. Somehow a cup feel to the floor and broke. Hearing it I exclaimed "aht ta fav oot" , this was the Italian term I heard Grandma say a 1000 times when something went wrong. Clearly the true translation had escaped me...
I looked up to see four very stern looks from four very Italian women. Grandma grabbed me and was about to spank me, until it became apparent to her that I had no idea what the word/phrase meant. She blushed and all of her friends laughed and yelled "AHT TA FAV OOT".
It could mean anything, I dont really know. But be careful who you say it in front of.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Porcase Safari
Mary Phyllis was not home (I know it's now Phyllis, but that was/is my mom's name and I have never been adjusted to the change, sorry!)
I went to visit Aunt Rose with Grandma. The two of them got to talking/cooking and I found my way to Mary Phyllis's room. She had a bazillion stuffed animals.
So I set them up in order of a march across the floor. The lions led the march, followed by the mighty elephants, there where many of those....
Then, in order of size or ferocity the march was arranged. I spent hours (it seemed) arranging the animals just so. Then when my masterpiece was nearly complete in the doorway was Mary Phyllis.
WOW, was she mad! You see the animals all HAD just the right spot before I began my safari with them .
I went to visit Aunt Rose with Grandma. The two of them got to talking/cooking and I found my way to Mary Phyllis's room. She had a bazillion stuffed animals.
So I set them up in order of a march across the floor. The lions led the march, followed by the mighty elephants, there where many of those....
Then, in order of size or ferocity the march was arranged. I spent hours (it seemed) arranging the animals just so. Then when my masterpiece was nearly complete in the doorway was Mary Phyllis.
WOW, was she mad! You see the animals all HAD just the right spot before I began my safari with them .
Stingray Preparation
The Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Church Cookbook (copyright 1968) says that after the stingray has been deep fried, that it should be placed in a crock and covered with equal parts of vinegar and water along with 20 vials of saffron which has been boiled for 45 minutes. The crock is then covered tightly and set aside until Christmas. Perhaps if we start now it will be ready for the next feast of the 7 fishes!
What do you want for Christmas?
When I was somewhere around 8 years old, Grandma asked me what I wanted for Christmas. There was a toy that I had seen I wanted so bad I could taste it. It was a replica of a Corvette Stingray, a scale model that was remote controlled. Perhaps the first of this sort?
So I told her with all the control I could muster over my exuberance " I Want a Stingray". She smiled and laughed (as always) and said that's so much money.
Time ticked away and Christmas Eve came. The dining room was packed and with all of the other seafood Grandma proudly placed a plate in front of me and said "Buone Natale." I didn't recognize the dish and asked "Grandma what is this" she beamed at me and said, "its Stingray Domini".
God I miss her.
Note: She always left the "c" off my name when she said it ....
So I told her with all the control I could muster over my exuberance " I Want a Stingray". She smiled and laughed (as always) and said that's so much money.
Time ticked away and Christmas Eve came. The dining room was packed and with all of the other seafood Grandma proudly placed a plate in front of me and said "Buone Natale." I didn't recognize the dish and asked "Grandma what is this" she beamed at me and said, "its Stingray Domini".
God I miss her.
Note: She always left the "c" off my name when she said it ....
Watch Out for the Foxes!
During Dom's recent visit to Youngstown , an old memory was rekindled..... Many years ago, Dom stayed overnight at our house and Brother Gary and I decided to introduce Dom to my mom's Fox wrap. ( picture this, two real foxes connected together head to tail with feet dangling ) that was used in the day, as a scarf / accessory... As Dom was heading off to sleep, Gary held the fox wrap in such a manner making it appear as though it was peering around the corner of the bedroom door scaring the S%#$*# out of young Dom....... During Dom's recent visit, the Foxes made another appearance, as I edged them around the corner of the bedroom doorway.... the reaction by Dom was golden!!!!! Watch out for the foxes!
Joe Warino, Jr.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Happy Birthday, Aunt Rose!
Aunt Rose is celebrating her 89th birthday today! She now lives with me (since February 2007) and is doing very well. I will write more later and maybe get my son, Vic, to scan pictures for everyone to see. Thanks Dominic.Love, Aunt Rose and JoAnn
Monday, January 19, 2009
Sunday Mornings
For a long time Uncle Joe and Aunt Doris used to come and visit on Sunday Mornings after church. Breakfast was comprised of saltines and provolone cheese, among various other things. Uncle Joe use to carve the cheese into shapes of things to prompt me to eat it. Some of them actually looked like what he said they were, but mostly the cheese was a vehicle for his inimitable humor, "This one's a sock," he would say and I would oblige as his straight man and reply "What?" Then he would say, "It's a sock in the nose if you don't eat it!" He would give me quarters to hold against the cold frost on the window and pull it away to see the imprint of the coin. Those were really good visits.
DeMarinis Family
Dom this is a fantastic idea!
My father is going to enjoy reading this so much. The other son of Ang and Louie was my Uncle Don, whose real first name was actually Anthony. Both he and my Uncle Paul have since passed away.
My father is going to enjoy reading this so much. The other son of Ang and Louie was my Uncle Don, whose real first name was actually Anthony. Both he and my Uncle Paul have since passed away.
My father tells many stories of the Warinos and their care and compassion after such a tragic accident. Whoever posted that about being presented as cousins could not be more correct. Family is born of love not always by blood.
Keep up the great work and I will try to dig out some pictures and some of my grandmother Ang's great recipes -minus a soup bowl of flour- LOL!
Jenette DeMarinis Garbarz
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Your slow learner computer cousin!
This is great and I really appreciate your hard work.
Do you remember the round things that grandma would make with fennel seed, and you dip (soak) them in your coffee. I think Grandma made them around Easter time. What where they called and does anyone have the recipe?
Again Dom, thank you so much for all your hard work!! This is great!!
Joyce W. Palombaro
Do you remember the round things that grandma would make with fennel seed, and you dip (soak) them in your coffee. I think Grandma made them around Easter time. What where they called and does anyone have the recipe?
Again Dom, thank you so much for all your hard work!! This is great!!
Joyce W. Palombaro
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Relatives
The last time I was in Youngstown there were a lot of questions about how the Warino's were related to the Mashiska and DeMarinis families. Here goes for an explaination to the best of my knowledge.
Grandpa was married once before Grandma. He and his wife had a daughter named Philomena. His wife (name unknown to me) died giving birth to a baby girl. She was raised by the wife's parents. She eventually married and gave birth to a son, John. During birth she died. John was raised outside of the Warino family, but with close ties. Essentially, John Mashiska and I (likely you too) shared the same Grandfather, James Warino.
The Demarinis story goes like this: Ang and Louie Demarinis were very good friends of Grandma and Grandpa. They had three sons, Paul, Lou. and Don. Ang and Louie were in a terrible automobile accident and were essentially bedbound for some months following the accident. Grandma and Grandpa moved them into their home and took care of them and their children until they were able to care for themselves. Bear in mind this was during a difficult time and the Warino house was already pretty full.
Both of these families were always presented to me as cousins by Grandma. They are as real a family member as any I have as a result.
Grandpa was married once before Grandma. He and his wife had a daughter named Philomena. His wife (name unknown to me) died giving birth to a baby girl. She was raised by the wife's parents. She eventually married and gave birth to a son, John. During birth she died. John was raised outside of the Warino family, but with close ties. Essentially, John Mashiska and I (likely you too) shared the same Grandfather, James Warino.
The Demarinis story goes like this: Ang and Louie Demarinis were very good friends of Grandma and Grandpa. They had three sons, Paul, Lou. and Don. Ang and Louie were in a terrible automobile accident and were essentially bedbound for some months following the accident. Grandma and Grandpa moved them into their home and took care of them and their children until they were able to care for themselves. Bear in mind this was during a difficult time and the Warino house was already pretty full.
Both of these families were always presented to me as cousins by Grandma. They are as real a family member as any I have as a result.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Grandma's Bread Recipe
25 lb. bag of flour, less one soup bowl
2 cakes of yeast
water
That's it, good luck!
Note: I remember the soup bowls, but I don't have any idea how much flour that one translates to. Seems like it was enough to reserve for flouring the work surface as she rolled out the dough.
2 cakes of yeast
water
That's it, good luck!
Note: I remember the soup bowls, but I don't have any idea how much flour that one translates to. Seems like it was enough to reserve for flouring the work surface as she rolled out the dough.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
James Verde
Grandma's maiden name was Verde, which was changed to Green at Ellis Island (for the record Grandpa's surname was Guarino and was changed to Warino there as well as shown by the Citizenship papers below).
She had a brother named James. He was best described as the polar opposite of Grandma. He was a really cold person. I spent a lot of afternoons at his house, very uncomfortably. I was about 7 years old and the visits involved them playing cards and me sitting on a chair; loads of fun. He would receive letters from the remaining sibling(s?) in Italy and read them in Italian to Grandma. Their daughter is/was Phyl Redmond.
She had a brother named James. He was best described as the polar opposite of Grandma. He was a really cold person. I spent a lot of afternoons at his house, very uncomfortably. I was about 7 years old and the visits involved them playing cards and me sitting on a chair; loads of fun. He would receive letters from the remaining sibling(s?) in Italy and read them in Italian to Grandma. Their daughter is/was Phyl Redmond.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Phyll Vivo Warino's Peppers in Oil
Before I visited Youngstown for the first time, I had never had peppers in oil. They were sitting on the table in Dom’s Aunt Phyll and Uncle Blackie’s kitchen with the salt and pepper. Blackie explained that he ate them with practically everything: sandwiches for lunch, steak at dinner, and his favorite, with eggs each morning. Blackie grew in the peppers in the garden, and Phyll would can them for use throughout the year. Dom remembered the peppers and lamented that he couldn’t find anything close to them in Atlanta. Phyll patiently explained to me how to make them. They do not last very long in our house as Dom, the Youngstown transplants (Vince Blumetti, Tony Grohovsky, and Joe Cregan,) and especially my teenage boys, eat them almost as fast as I make them.
2 pounds fresh hot peppers
¼ cup kosher salt
6 cloves garlic, sliced
Olive oil
Small jars with lids, cleaned and sterilized
Gloves
Begin by putting on your gloves. Once you have donned your gloves, wash the peppers and pat them dry. Next, cut the peppers in thin rings, removing the pith and seeds as you go. Place all peppers rings in a mixing bowl with the salt and toss gently to cover all peppers with salt. Cover the bowl and let stand overnight. When you are ready to put the peppers in jars, fill the mixing bowl with cold water and gently rinse the salt from the peppers. Drain and dry the peppers by laying a towel down on the counter and pat the peppers dry. Pack the peppers and sliced garlic in your clean jars and fill them with olive oil. Using a spoon, gently push the peppers and garlic down in the jar to remove air bubbles. Top off with more olive oil if needed. Seal the jars and put them in a pot of hot water. Bring to a boil and simmer the peppers for 10 minutes to seal the jars. Let jars cool and check the seals of the lids. Place the jars in a cool dark place. While you can eat them right away, they are better if sit for a week or two, and will keep for up to a year. As I mentioned before, mine NEVER last that long.
2 pounds fresh hot peppers
¼ cup kosher salt
6 cloves garlic, sliced
Olive oil
Small jars with lids, cleaned and sterilized
Gloves
Begin by putting on your gloves. Once you have donned your gloves, wash the peppers and pat them dry. Next, cut the peppers in thin rings, removing the pith and seeds as you go. Place all peppers rings in a mixing bowl with the salt and toss gently to cover all peppers with salt. Cover the bowl and let stand overnight. When you are ready to put the peppers in jars, fill the mixing bowl with cold water and gently rinse the salt from the peppers. Drain and dry the peppers by laying a towel down on the counter and pat the peppers dry. Pack the peppers and sliced garlic in your clean jars and fill them with olive oil. Using a spoon, gently push the peppers and garlic down in the jar to remove air bubbles. Top off with more olive oil if needed. Seal the jars and put them in a pot of hot water. Bring to a boil and simmer the peppers for 10 minutes to seal the jars. Let jars cool and check the seals of the lids. Place the jars in a cool dark place. While you can eat them right away, they are better if sit for a week or two, and will keep for up to a year. As I mentioned before, mine NEVER last that long.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Christmas Eve Feast of Seven Fishes
On the night before Christmas in our house, strains of Louis Armstrong’s “’Zat you Santa Claus” or Kurt Elling’s “Cool Yule” resound in the background while the smells of garlic, toasting bread crumbs, and lemon fill the air. The anticipation for the coming feast is only eclipsed by the anticipation of the following morning of ripping paper and opening presents. Italians usher in Christmas Day with ‘Cena della Vigilia’, the dinner of the vigil; the meal that breaks a daylong fast, at least in theory. Over the centuries, however, fasting obligations were relaxed, rules of abstinence from eating meat became the standard. Today, in our family, the imminent birth of Christ is celebrated with one long, delicious (almost meatless) dinner party.
The Warino family originally emigrated from Calabria - a region of Puglia that borders the Adriatic Sea. There, La Vigilia means seven different kinds of seafood, cooked seven different ways. According to Grandma, the number seven is important because it represents the seven sacraments. The number is also said to allude to the seven virtues, the seven hills of Rome, and the seven days of the week.
We usually start the evening at his house with champagne and raw oysters. We also put out a platter with smoked salmon and white fish with olives and crostini. It may not be exactly Italian, but everyone likes it, and it works. Fried smelts follow close behind. It depends on the year which friends and family are in attendance. Some years it is a house-full and others it is just the four of us. While I cook, friends chat in the kitchen, help set the table, or share pictures of recent travels. We have tried several different dishes over the years to comprise the seven fishes and do not always adhere to the strict interpretations that each fish must be prepared differently. Frito Misto is the perfect solution to preparing several of the fishes in our feast at one time. Gumbo is another family favorite that accommodates more than one fish. If we still need a fish to add to round out our repertoire, we add some anchovies to the pasta with olive oil, crushed red pepper and parmesan that we serve on the side.
The custom of “La Vigilia” is revitalized whenever a new generation takes it on. We have tried to introduce the custom to our boys and family friends to keep the practice alive. As it is carried on into the future, we remember our ancestors who have added their imprint on the tradition, and it is if they are dining with us each Christmas Eve.
The Warino family originally emigrated from Calabria - a region of Puglia that borders the Adriatic Sea. There, La Vigilia means seven different kinds of seafood, cooked seven different ways. According to Grandma, the number seven is important because it represents the seven sacraments. The number is also said to allude to the seven virtues, the seven hills of Rome, and the seven days of the week.
We usually start the evening at his house with champagne and raw oysters. We also put out a platter with smoked salmon and white fish with olives and crostini. It may not be exactly Italian, but everyone likes it, and it works. Fried smelts follow close behind. It depends on the year which friends and family are in attendance. Some years it is a house-full and others it is just the four of us. While I cook, friends chat in the kitchen, help set the table, or share pictures of recent travels. We have tried several different dishes over the years to comprise the seven fishes and do not always adhere to the strict interpretations that each fish must be prepared differently. Frito Misto is the perfect solution to preparing several of the fishes in our feast at one time. Gumbo is another family favorite that accommodates more than one fish. If we still need a fish to add to round out our repertoire, we add some anchovies to the pasta with olive oil, crushed red pepper and parmesan that we serve on the side.
The custom of “La Vigilia” is revitalized whenever a new generation takes it on. We have tried to introduce the custom to our boys and family friends to keep the practice alive. As it is carried on into the future, we remember our ancestors who have added their imprint on the tradition, and it is if they are dining with us each Christmas Eve.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Certificates of Citizenship
Here are copies of the original U.S. Certificates of Citizenship granted to Fanny and James Warino.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
History of Italian Immigrants in Ohio
Numerous Ohioans are descended from Italian ancestors. During the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, millions of immigrants migrated to the United States of America, hoping to live the American Dream. Before the American Civil War, most immigrants arrived in the United States from Great Britain, Germany, and Ireland. By the 1880s, the home countries of immigrants began to change. Many of the new immigrants to arrive in the United States came from Eastern European countries, like Poland, and Hungary, or from Southern European countries, like Italy.
In 1900, just over eleven thousand Italian immigrants resided in Ohio. By 1920, their numbers had soared to 60,658 people. Most of these Italians settled along Lake Erie, especially in Cleveland. In 1870, only thirty-five Italian immigrants resided in Cleveland. By 1920, their numbers had surged to more than twenty thousand people. Most of these immigrants found low-paying jobs in factories, as day laborers, or as waiters, waitresses, and cooks in restaurants. Immigrants who were more successful established businesses that supplied their fellow migrants with traditional Italian products or began their own clothing or construction companies. In Cleveland, the Italian immigrants tended to settle in their own communities, preferring to live among people who shared similar cultural beliefs and spoke the same language as they did. By the late 1800s, most Italian immigrants in Cleveland had settled in two neighborhoods nicknamed Big Italy and Little Italy. Most of these immigrants were followers of the Roman Catholic Church.
Italian immigrants congregated together partly out of camaraderie but also out of fear. During the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, many native-born Americans feared outsiders. Some of these people objected to the immigrants' religious and cultural beliefs, while others believed that the foreigners would corrupt the morals of United States citizens. These people also contended that the quality of life within the United States would decline, as there were not enough jobs to employ the millions of people migrating to America. Many native-born Americans hoped either to limit immigration or to force foreigners to convert to American customs and beliefs. During World War I and World War II, Italian Ohioans faced even greater persecution, since Italy was one of the United States' enemies in each of these wars. During World War II, Ohio Italians rallied behind the United States, forsaking their homeland. Many Italian social groups dropped their Italian names and adopted patriotic ones, like "Abraham Lincoln" and "Betsy Ross," instead. However, it would still take several generations before Italian immigrants became truly accepted by the vast majority of Ohioans.
Of all the immigrant groups to settle in Ohio, Italians remained the most determined to maintain their traditional heritage and beliefs. Many Ohio Italians established social organizations. Unlike the organizations of other nationalities, Italian ones usually did not welcome all Italians. Rather, they usually only admitted people from their former villages in Italy. As other Ohioans became more tolerant of the Italians, many Italian communities began to disintegrate. Many Italians moved into other communities, while non-Italians began to infiltrate the traditionally Italian neighborhoods. This does not mean that Ohio's Italian population has lost its ties to its traditional cultural beliefs. Italian Ohioans continue to participate in various social and cultural groups that serve to promote Italian beliefs and customs.
Excerpted from http://www.ohiohistorycentral.org.
In 1900, just over eleven thousand Italian immigrants resided in Ohio. By 1920, their numbers had soared to 60,658 people. Most of these Italians settled along Lake Erie, especially in Cleveland. In 1870, only thirty-five Italian immigrants resided in Cleveland. By 1920, their numbers had surged to more than twenty thousand people. Most of these immigrants found low-paying jobs in factories, as day laborers, or as waiters, waitresses, and cooks in restaurants. Immigrants who were more successful established businesses that supplied their fellow migrants with traditional Italian products or began their own clothing or construction companies. In Cleveland, the Italian immigrants tended to settle in their own communities, preferring to live among people who shared similar cultural beliefs and spoke the same language as they did. By the late 1800s, most Italian immigrants in Cleveland had settled in two neighborhoods nicknamed Big Italy and Little Italy. Most of these immigrants were followers of the Roman Catholic Church.
Italian immigrants congregated together partly out of camaraderie but also out of fear. During the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, many native-born Americans feared outsiders. Some of these people objected to the immigrants' religious and cultural beliefs, while others believed that the foreigners would corrupt the morals of United States citizens. These people also contended that the quality of life within the United States would decline, as there were not enough jobs to employ the millions of people migrating to America. Many native-born Americans hoped either to limit immigration or to force foreigners to convert to American customs and beliefs. During World War I and World War II, Italian Ohioans faced even greater persecution, since Italy was one of the United States' enemies in each of these wars. During World War II, Ohio Italians rallied behind the United States, forsaking their homeland. Many Italian social groups dropped their Italian names and adopted patriotic ones, like "Abraham Lincoln" and "Betsy Ross," instead. However, it would still take several generations before Italian immigrants became truly accepted by the vast majority of Ohioans.
Of all the immigrant groups to settle in Ohio, Italians remained the most determined to maintain their traditional heritage and beliefs. Many Ohio Italians established social organizations. Unlike the organizations of other nationalities, Italian ones usually did not welcome all Italians. Rather, they usually only admitted people from their former villages in Italy. As other Ohioans became more tolerant of the Italians, many Italian communities began to disintegrate. Many Italians moved into other communities, while non-Italians began to infiltrate the traditionally Italian neighborhoods. This does not mean that Ohio's Italian population has lost its ties to its traditional cultural beliefs. Italian Ohioans continue to participate in various social and cultural groups that serve to promote Italian beliefs and customs.
Excerpted from http://www.ohiohistorycentral.org.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
You Know You Are An Ohioan:
1. In order to talk sports with obsessive fans in Ohio, you have to be knowledgeable on three levels: professional, college and high school. The truly expert Ohio sports fan knows not only the name of the hotshot quarterback at Moody High School, but also what colleges he's interested in, how much he bench-presses, who he took to the prom and what he got on his Biology quiz last week.
2. Get used to food festivals. The Ohio General Assembly, in an effort to grow bigger offensive linemen, passed legislation years ago requiring every incorporated community to have at least one festival per year dedicated to a high-fat food. Thus, Sugarcreek honors Swiss cheese, Bucyrus has a bratwurst celebration and Gahanna, seeking an edge over other towns, has recently introduced the Triglyceride and Low-density Lipoprotein Festival. It is your duty as an Ohioan to attend these festivals and buy at least one elephant ear.
3. Know the geography. Of Florida, I mean. I've run into Ohioans who couldn't tell you where Toledo is but they know the exact distance from Fort Myers to Bonita Springs. That's because all Ohioans go to Florida in the winter. Or plan to when they retire. Or are related to retired Ohioans who have a place in Sarasota. We consider Florida to be the Lower Peninsula of Ohio.
4. If you can't afford to spend the winter in Florida, use the state excuse, which is that you stay here because you like the change of seasons. You'll be lying, but that's OK. We've all done it.
5. Speaking of Ohio weather, wear layers or die. The thing to remember about Ohio seasons is that they can occur at anytime. We have spring like days in January and wintry weekends in October. April is capable of providing a sampling of all four seasons in a single 24-hour period. For these reasons, Ohio is the Layering Capital of the World. Even layering, however, can pose danger. Golfers have been known to dress for hypothermia and end up dead of heat stroke becausethey couldn't strip off their layers of plaid fast enough on a changeable spring morning.
6. Don't take Ohio place names literally. Upper Sandusky is below regular Sandusky. Circleville is square. East Liverpool has no counterpart to the west. Also, if a town has the same name as a foreign capital (Lima or Berlin, for example) you must not pronounce it that way lest you come under suspicion as a spy. Hence, it's not "LEE-ma" (as in Peru), but "LYE-ma" (as in bean). Berlin is pronounced "BER-lin", not "Ber-LIN" (like in Germany).
7. Become mulch literate. Ohioans love mulch and appreciate its subtle differences. Learn the difference between hardwood, cypress and pine bark at a minimum. Researchers think the state's affinity for mulch derives from its relatively flat terrain. People have a subconscious need for topography, and when it can't be supplied naturally, they are more likely to make little mulch hillocks in their front yards.
8. Remember that Ohioans are never the first to embrace trends. When we do embrace them, we do so with a Midwestern pragmatism. For example, if you see an Ohioan with a nose ring, there's a good chance he's had it undercoated to guard against rust.
9. The best way to sell something in Ohio is to attach the term "Amish" to it. The product need not be genuinely Amish. This would explain the existence of "Amish moo shu pork".
10. Know the state casserole. The state casserole of Ohio consists of canned green beans, Campbell's cream of mushroom soup and dried onions. You can safely take this casserole to any social event and know that you will be accepted. In fact, Neil Armstrong almost took this casserole to the moon in case he encountered alien life there. NASA nixed the plan out of concern that the casserole would overburden the Apollo rocket at liftoff.
2. Get used to food festivals. The Ohio General Assembly, in an effort to grow bigger offensive linemen, passed legislation years ago requiring every incorporated community to have at least one festival per year dedicated to a high-fat food. Thus, Sugarcreek honors Swiss cheese, Bucyrus has a bratwurst celebration and Gahanna, seeking an edge over other towns, has recently introduced the Triglyceride and Low-density Lipoprotein Festival. It is your duty as an Ohioan to attend these festivals and buy at least one elephant ear.
3. Know the geography. Of Florida, I mean. I've run into Ohioans who couldn't tell you where Toledo is but they know the exact distance from Fort Myers to Bonita Springs. That's because all Ohioans go to Florida in the winter. Or plan to when they retire. Or are related to retired Ohioans who have a place in Sarasota. We consider Florida to be the Lower Peninsula of Ohio.
4. If you can't afford to spend the winter in Florida, use the state excuse, which is that you stay here because you like the change of seasons. You'll be lying, but that's OK. We've all done it.
5. Speaking of Ohio weather, wear layers or die. The thing to remember about Ohio seasons is that they can occur at anytime. We have spring like days in January and wintry weekends in October. April is capable of providing a sampling of all four seasons in a single 24-hour period. For these reasons, Ohio is the Layering Capital of the World. Even layering, however, can pose danger. Golfers have been known to dress for hypothermia and end up dead of heat stroke becausethey couldn't strip off their layers of plaid fast enough on a changeable spring morning.
6. Don't take Ohio place names literally. Upper Sandusky is below regular Sandusky. Circleville is square. East Liverpool has no counterpart to the west. Also, if a town has the same name as a foreign capital (Lima or Berlin, for example) you must not pronounce it that way lest you come under suspicion as a spy. Hence, it's not "LEE-ma" (as in Peru), but "LYE-ma" (as in bean). Berlin is pronounced "BER-lin", not "Ber-LIN" (like in Germany).
7. Become mulch literate. Ohioans love mulch and appreciate its subtle differences. Learn the difference between hardwood, cypress and pine bark at a minimum. Researchers think the state's affinity for mulch derives from its relatively flat terrain. People have a subconscious need for topography, and when it can't be supplied naturally, they are more likely to make little mulch hillocks in their front yards.
8. Remember that Ohioans are never the first to embrace trends. When we do embrace them, we do so with a Midwestern pragmatism. For example, if you see an Ohioan with a nose ring, there's a good chance he's had it undercoated to guard against rust.
9. The best way to sell something in Ohio is to attach the term "Amish" to it. The product need not be genuinely Amish. This would explain the existence of "Amish moo shu pork".
10. Know the state casserole. The state casserole of Ohio consists of canned green beans, Campbell's cream of mushroom soup and dried onions. You can safely take this casserole to any social event and know that you will be accepted. In fact, Neil Armstrong almost took this casserole to the moon in case he encountered alien life there. NASA nixed the plan out of concern that the casserole would overburden the Apollo rocket at liftoff.
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