Someone walked in who didn't like turkey, and was followed by an assortment of fruits, nuts, pastries, and of course homemade cakes. Now we ITALIANS, we also had turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce, but, only after we had finished the Antipasto, Chicken Soup with Escarole, Cheese Squares & Little Meatballs, Lasagna, Meatballs, Braciola, Salad and whatever else Mama thought might be appropriate for that particular holiday.Īlso, our turkey was accompanied by a roast of some kind, just in case Or rather, they only ate turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce. And instead of being able to climb up on back of the peddler’s wagon or truck a couple of times a week, just to hitch a ride, most of my "MEDI-GAN" friends had to be satisfied going to the A&P.Īlas, when it came to food, it always amazed me that my American friends and classmates only ate turkey on Thanksgiving or Christmas. They never knew the pleasure of waking up every morning to find a hot, crisp loaf of Italian Bread waiting behind the screen door. Americans went to the store for most of their foods.
We knew them by their names, and they knew us. We could wait for their call, their yell, and their individual distinctive sound. They were the many peddlers who plied their trades in the Italian Neighborhoods. For instance, we had a bread man, a coal & ice man, a fruit & vegetable man (which we call the "HUCKSTER"), a watermelon man, a javela-water man and a fish man we even hadĪ man who sharpened knives and scissors and a man who fixed umbrellas, who came right to our homes, or at least just outside our homes. It was just well we were sure ours was the better way. There was no animosity involved in that distinction, no prejudice, and no hard feelings. Everybody else, the Irish, English, German, Polish, Jewish, they were "MEDI-GANS". To me, as I am sure for most second generation Italian/American children who had grown up in the 1930's, 1940’s,and 1950's, there was a definite distinction between US and THEM. Americans were people who ate peanut butter on mushy white bread that came out of plastic packages. Somehow never occurred to me that just being a citizen of the United States meant that I was an American.
OfĬourse I had been born in America, and lived here all of my life, but it I was well into adulthood before I realized that I was an American. and I would like to share it with all of you.
JOY OF GROWING UP ITALIAN CARLO ANZELMO SERIES
He came very much to the public's attention playing Agent Mike Giardello in the TV series Homicide: Life on the Street (1993) in 1998 and since then has rarely been off our screens.I am not the author of this but this is the way it was when I was growing up in Norristown, Pa. TV work followed in the 1980s, with increasingly significant parts in a string of high-profile series until he became well-established as a character player both on TV and in a number of movies. More Broadway work followed through the 1960s and early '70s, followed by some small roles in movies. Coming from a theatrical background, it was, perhaps, inevitable that young Giancarlo would appear on stage sooner or later, and he did, at age 8, appearing on Broadway as a slave child in "Maggie Flynn" in 1966. His parents, working in Europe at the time of his birth, settled in Manhattan by the time he was 6, and that's where he grew up. Giancarlo Giuseppe Alessandro Esposito was born in Copenhagen, Denmark, to an Italian carpenter/stagehand father from Naples, Italy, and an African-American opera singer mother from Alabama.
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