Yes...another procession!

Yes….another procession!

Yesterday, September 19^th, was the festa di San Gennaro.  As you may or may not know, San Gennaro is the patron saint of Naples, where a vial of his blood is kept in the San Gennaro chapel of the Duomo.  Three times a year, a miracle is said to happen, when the blood that is dried up in the vial becomes liquid. 

I was there three years ago in May to witness this event.  I had no idea that the day I went into Naples with our friends to show them around was one of those miracle days.  We were in the chapel when suddenly the Bishop came out holding the vial.  He tipped it up and down to show the liquefaction of the blood.  There were maybe 30 people in the chapel and they all lined up to pay their respects to the saint. 

September 19^th however, is the day that most people associate with San Gennaro.  It’s his onnomastico, his name day, and all the Gennaros in Italy are feted on that date.  But we aren’t usually in Cervinara in September, that being the month when we prefer to be out traveling around.  We’ve been in Turkey, in the Czech Republic, in Slovenia…but never in Cervinara!  I had no idea that San Gennaro would be celebrated here with yet another procession.

A few days ago a big poster was slapped up onto our local “bulletin board”, announcing the festivities that would be associated with San Gennaro.  It turns out that he is not only the patron saint of Naples, but also of our humble little town.  There is a statue of him in the Santuario della Beata Vergine Addolorata, which is just down the street from us off of Piazza Elena and it was from that church that everything was organized.  There were special masses said all week, and then on the evening of th 19^th, at five o’clock Italian time (so it was actually 5:30!), the saint was led out of the church, down the stairs and mounted onto the roof of a car.  The car was preceded by a brass band, then a group of priests and deacons, a cantor and the Rosary women.  It was followed by all the faithful of the parish. 

This was a short procession for Cervinara; just up the hill to Ioffredo and the church of San Nicola, then back down to Piazza Elena for more celebrations.  There were no fireworks this time, and no concerts in the piazza…just a mass remembering this saint who was martyred by Diocletian and who was the first bishop of Benevento. 

I think this will be the last of the processions for the season….the weather is changing and it’s raining and windy more often.  Processions are events for the clear summer weather.  I may be wrong though.  There are certainly many more saints that could be celebrated and Italians are never unwilling to throw a party!  But I’m pretty sure that we’ll have to wait until next summer for the celebrations to start again.  In any case, congratulations to all you Gennaros and Gennarinos out there!  Yesterday was all about you!

We're Havin' a Heat Wave.....A Tropical Heat Wave...

Well, summer has come to Cervinara, and the rest of the Italian peninsula as well.  We have been hearing about the Scipione Africanus for days now, the hot air mass that comes over from north Africa.  Every day gets a bit warmer, but even if we were closed off in an air conditioned house we would know changes were in the air because of so many other subtle differences in the way life unfolds in Cervinara.
I don't want to come across as obsessed with sounds this year, but that is the first thing that I notice as the temperature rises.  When it's mild and lovely out, the air is filled with the sounds of people in the streets and work being done in yards and gardens.  Even after lunch during the siesta time, chain saws buzz, weed whackers whine, and workers holler at one another to bring more stone for a wall under construction.   Now, in the post-prandial break time, it is deathly quiet.  No dogs bark, no neighbors chat together, no workers try to capitalize on a couple of extra hours of work.  No one braves the mid-day sun, not even mad dogs and Englishmen....and certainly no Italians!
There is a torpor in the atmosphere that effects everyone.  Our morning cappuccino is taken out on the little terrace where we can capture a bit of shade.  Once the sun hits that spot everyone is quick to take his leave.  The ladies who usually scurry out at the sound of the fruit and vegetable truck take their time to saunter up the hill.  No one is in a rush to go back into the hot kitchens.
Attendance at mass is lighter than usual.  So many of the septuagenarians and octogenarians who make the trek every day from up in the Castello neighborhood don't come when it's hot like this.  The 17:00 call to rosary is  still too early in the day for a long walk; the sun still too "massacrante" to be able to handle, so many of the usual suspects will listen to mass on the TV or will say their rosary in the privacy and comfort of their homes.
Around 20:00, things start to get comfortable again.  This is when it's nice to go for a stroll down to the Piazza Elena, sit on a bench and watch life unfold.  It's still light enough to enjoy visiting with friends, but the sun has lost its power and is ceding its strength to the night.  When normally things are quieting down, the pent up energy from the long, hot day is finally released.  Now the sounds are of kids kicking soccer balls in the piazza, the card players yelling about their bad luck and the splash of water as plants get a much needed drink.
Summer in Cervinara is like summer in so many places, yet with its own flavor and charm.  Tonight things probably won't quiet down outside until close to midnight and early risers will be up even earlier to take advantage of the morning chill.  But that's OK.  The 14:00 siesta will be quiet and everyone will have a chance to catch up on much needed rest and relaxation.  That's the rhythm of life in my small Italian town.

God and Mammon

God and Mammon

There was a dilemma this week in Cervinara, a clash between the earthly and the spiritual, between God and Mammon. 

This past Sunday marked the beginning of the “Festa” season with the feast of Corpus Domini or the Body of Christ.  It includes a procession through the streets of the town with stops at little shrines set up along the way.  Lovely linens are displayed in front of many homes, hanging off the balconies or makeshift clothes lines.  Children precede the procession, carrying baskets of rose petals that are strewn in the street, to be walked on by the priest, those carrying his canopy, and all the faithful. 

At the 11:30 mass, Don Giorgio Carbone spoke at length about the importance of this festa, because it celebrates the most important dogma of the church, that of the transubstantiation that turns the bread and wine into the body and blood of Jesus.  He announced that the Corpus Domini would be brought out of the church at 7:30 0r 7:45 pm, rather than the usual 6:45-7:00.  Sighs of relief were heard from the congregation.  Why?

This Sunday also marked the first game for Italy in the European Cup competition.  Italian flags have been draped across the streets and hung from every balcony in anticipation.  The game time?  Six pm.  This represented a major dilemma for everyone here.  No one can ignore the Corpus Domini…..but neither could the game be ignored!  What to do?  Don Giorgio and the procession committee, not wanting to miss the game either, decided to delay the start of the procession until after the game was over.  Fortunately, there was no overtime!  The final whistle blew, and the church bells started ringing, calling the faithful to the piazza to await the start of the procession.  Then cannon fire announced the exiting of the Corpus Domini from the church, the prayers started and the procession was on its way.

In a way it was nice having things unroll later than usual.  There was a chill in the air as we wended our way through the narrow streets and alleys.  Then, as the sun started to set behind our hills, the sky turned lovely shades of pink and  violet and finally darkness fell.  We accompanied the Corpus Domini back to the church, secure in our knowledge that just respect had been paid to both traditions, celebrating both the start of the festa season and Italy’s tie with Spain. 

Sometimes it is possible to serve both God and Mammon, I guess!

New Friends

When I started writing this blog three years ago, it was a way for me to keep in touch with a few friends and family who might be interested in this new life experiment I was undergoing.  Posting it on my Facebook page allowed for those people to get quick updates on what was happening in our little corner of Italy.  It was also a way for me to remember events that might get lost in the shuffle otherwise.  My brain, never known for its grasp on details, has gotten more and more like the "scolapasta" that drains our macaroni every day...full of holes!
As time has gone on, I have come to realize that Italian-Americans are very interested in their roots here in the boot, and that there is no small number of folks who can trace their lineage to Cervinara.  It was a hard life here a hundred years ago, and many families decided to pull up roots and head to the greener pastures of the USA, Canada, South America or Australia.  Many left to find work and eventually came back to their home, but more left and never returned.  I am finding that this blog has some interest for the descendants of those immigrants and it has put me in touch with many people who want to read and learn about the home of their ancestors.
Today, I met some of these folks and, for the first time, I realize that maybe my writings have some value besides some simple updates. 
We were upstairs doing some chores this morning when we heard a loud knocking on our metal "portone", the big gate that closes our compound off from the street.  There was Virginia Raviele, a neighbor from around the corner, obviously somehow related to us but certainly not a close relative.  She had received a phone call from a hotel in Sorrento where one of my blog followers was staying.  They were leaving Sorrento today and planned to come up to Cervinara to look around.  They new my name, had the hotel concierge look in the phone book to find us and Virginia was as close as they could get.
Thank goodness for GPS, because we aren't easy to find, but around 11 am, there they were!  JoAnn, Phil, Donny and Cheryl....whom I had been in touch with via email but had never met.  Phil's dad left Cervinara with his parents in 1918 when he was seven years old.  From that time until this, none of the family had ever been back!  Almost 100 years had passed since his dad, who passed away three years ago at the age of 98, had walked these streets!
We were thrilled to meet them.  Mike took them down to the cemetery (closed, unfortunately) to look around for familiar names, then up the mountain to the chestnut groves and the Mafariello Springs.  I stayed behind and whipped up some lunch  that we enjoyed under the arches of our courtyard.  Word spread very quickly throughout the neighborhood that new folks had arrived.  Pasqualino, one of our neighbors, stopped by with two bottles of very tasty wine.  Cousin Antonietta came over to meet our new friends.  We showed her the documents that Phil had brought, including birth certificates and marriage certificates of his grandparents and his father and mother.  She didn't know the names but said she would get her circle of friends to start checking around to try to find any distant cousins.  Bertuccio stopped by to share a glass of beer as he took a break from clearing the field next door. 
At church this evening, everyone was abuzz, wanting to know who had come and what they thought of the town.  I was so pleased to have been able to show these lovely folks even a bit of the charm of this town, and all the ladies were happy to know that their neighborhood had "passed inspection". 
Phil and the rest of the group left after lunch, on their way north for more sightseeing and visiting.  But I think that their day in Cervinara will be a memorable one.  I know it will be for Mike and me.  We have already started talking about next year when I hope that the gang will have a little more time to explore and enjoy this place we love so much. 
So now, I feel that my little blog has done something besides keep our friends updated on our lives here.  I feel that perhaps it has helped to change some lives, and that makes me very happy. 
Phil, JoAnn, Donny and Cheryl....Thanks for a great day!  Happy travels!

The Sounds of Cervinara

In Il Postino, one of my all-time favorite films, Mario Ruopolo, the main character played by the late Massimo Troisi, is a mailman for Pablo Neruda, the Chilean poet who was living in exile on a small island off the coast of Naples.  Mario, an uneducated yet sensitive soul, is befriended by Neruda, and this friendship awakens Mario's need to express himself both poetically and metaphorically.  When trying to explain what his island home means to him, Mario takes Neruda's tape recorder out to record the sounds of his island; the waves crashing on the rocks, the wind blowing through the shrubs...
This scene came to mind yesterday morning, our first here in Cervinara, as I stood on the balcony, closed my eyes and listened.  Birds were chirping in the nearby trees, singing a welcoming good morning call.  There was a soft breeze that rustled through the leaves of the chestnut trees.  The gentle ringing of the bells on the herd of goats coming off the mountain blended with the din of a chain saw.  These are the sounds of Cervinara.
Later in the day as we wandered through the market, there was the call of the vendors pointing out their produce or their special sales.  There was the clucking of the chickens near the stand of the bird vendor.  There was the chatter of the ladies as they dickered over prices and gossiped among themselves.  These are the sounds of Cervinara.
The church bells that awaken the baker's dogs at 6 am and set them to howling, the whine of the weed whackers as they clear the vacant lot next door, the cheerful greetings as the bar regulars appear for their morning shot of espresso, the intonation of the faithful as they say their daily Ave Marias.  These are the sounds of Cervinara.
If I could record for you the way Mario Ruopolo did for Pablo Neruda, these are the sounds that would be saved.  If I could share with you the peace that comes with these routine noises, both pleasant and annoying, you would know why I keep coming back to this nondescript corner of Italy. If you could join me on my balcony early in the morning, feel the breeze on your face and hear the sounds of my town coming to life, you would understand  what pulls me back here, year after year.  Until then, my friends, I hope that you all have sounds in your lives that give you that same peace and pleasure, wherever you may be. 

Chestnut time

It's October and in Cervinara that means only one thing: chestnuts.  This little town is obsessed with everything to do with chestnuts.  Historically, these tasty treats were a main source of income for the people who owned the mountains.  They were also the source of nutrition during hard times when food was scarce.
During World War II, Cervinara , like so many other parts of Italy, suffered real hardships.  People wasted nothing and everything was used up and recycled until it couldn't be used any more.  The residents here used chestnuts in every way imaginable; roasted, boiled with a bay leaf, dried and ground into flour, sweetened and made into a type of marmalade, pureed and even as a replacement or adjunct for pasta.  Now, the chestnuts are more of a seasonal treat that everyone looks forward to but no one relies on for much more than pocket money and an after dinner delight. 
Harvesting chestnuts is a tricky business.  First, the underbrush has to be cleared away.  In September, controlled fires burn away the tall grasses and dried leaves that have accumulated under the trees.  Then, beginning in October, the actual harvest begins.  The trees that have been pendulous with chestnut "ricci" (the spiny coverings that protect the fruit), begin to drop their burdens.  The ricci litter the ground and become a real hazard to anyone not wearing good heavy shoes.  The men who harvest the chestnuts gather up the ricci and using heavy gloves to protect their hands, they open them up and pull out the three or four chestnuts that are nested inside.  Without gloves, your hands immediately become a sore and bloody mess because the ricci are so sharp and pointy.  The chestnuts get loaded into huge bags, either burlap or a kind of plastic mesh, and are taken down the mountain in tractors.
Talking to some of the old folks here, they remember the harvest before there were the tractors and other mechanical help.  Women used to handle this hard work, trudging up the mountain (before the road was paved) and into the chestnut groves.  They would gather up the nuts into huge bundles (using heavy sheeting material as their packs.)  Then they would heave the hundred pound bundles onto their heads and walk down the mountain again to deliver their burdens to the consortium.  I can't imagine this kind of heavy labor, done for pennies a day. 
Back in those days, the family here would gather up all the chestnuts and put them into an upstairs room for curing.  The cousins talk about this room being so deep in chestnuts that the kids would climb up the outside ladder and jump into the room through the window, covering themselves completely with the ruddy colored nuts.  The image I have in my head is that of one of those inflatable cages filled with nerf balls that kids love to jump in at McDonald's.  This was the Cervinara version of that favorite childhood activity.
Now, we barely go up to the mountain, except to enjoy a bit of a walk when the weather  is nice.  We lease out the concession to Gianluca and he and his crew handle the prep work and the actual harvest.  Gianluca comes to our door with a sack of chestnuts for us and the rest are sold at market.  No one has  the burden of carrying those bundles on their heads anymore, thank goodness!  While the work is certainly easier, the folks here still look forward to these autumn delicacies with the same eager expectation. 

Eggplant

So, Mike and I were sitting outside the bar last week, minding our own business, sipping our cappuccinos and reading the paper, when a truck with a loud-speaker announcing a great deal came driving up the street. The great deal? Crates of peppers, peaches, melons and eggplants at ridiculously low prices. Mike: Let's get some eggplant. It's too cheap to pass up. Me: A whole case? Are you crazy? There's only two of us! Mike: But it's such good eggplant. Look....no seeds at all. Me: Are you crazy? Mike: We can share it with the neighbors. They'll be happy. Me: Are you crazy?
Long story short, Mike wins, buys a crate of eggplant for three euros and we trudge home. We give five to Mariarosa and five to Bianchina. We haven't made a dent in the crate. I start contemplating my fate and it ain't pretty.
Seven days later: my hands are stained an ugly purple-brown. My arthritis is acting up because of the peeling, chopping and stirring. We have had eggplant parmigiano, eggplant ai fungiatelli, stuffed eggplant, indorato e fritto eggplant, eggplant pasta sauce. There is eggplant in the fridge and eggplant in the freezer. I have made pickled eggplant sott'olio....a gallon jar of it!
In the hottest weather of the summer, with nary a breeze to cool us off, I have peeled, chopped, fried and boiled the entire case of eggplant. Today, as I made it down to the bottom of the crate, I actually celebrated when I found some rotten little buggers that had to be thrown out! Yeah!
Now....we start on the peppers!
Help!!!

Sharing

It's beginning to be harvest time in Cervinara and the fruits of everyone's labors are seen all over town. While we don't have much of a garden, just some herbs and flowers, we are the recipients of the largesse of lots of friends and neighbors. Bertuccio is the first to come knocking on our door; cherries in May, squash and green beans in June, tomatoes, potatoes and garlic in July. Last week he came in with a huge basket of potatoes that he had just dug up and they were wonderful....odd shapes and sizes, but sweet and buttery when cooked up. Cousin Antonietta has been a source of many wonderful treats, from zucchini blossoms to San Marzano tomatoes, cucumbers and plums. Our neighbor Bianchina sent over a huge bag of eggplant along with a lovely head of lettuce. I feel bad for our fruttivendolo, because no one is stopping by his truck on his travels through town.
Adriana, our barista, is a great one for providing us with special treats. She gave us some hot pepper plants that will be giving some added spice to our dishes, she often has some taralli that she offers us for breakfast or some fresh homemade bread that we will eat with some tomatoes fresh off the vine. I don't know what we would do without Adriana, because she also gets us eggs right out of the chickens and many other helpful items.
As I mentioned before, we don't really have a garden and, even if we did there is no way we could match the great tasting fruits and vegetables of these old time farmers. But of course, we reciprocate in any way that we can, usually by providing folks with some of the great mozzarella that we bring back with us from Aversa. Aversa and the whole region around Naples is known for its buffalo mozzarella, but the buffalo milk doesn't make its way up to the mountains, so for the Cervinarese, mozzarella is a rare treat. So, every time we are down visiting family, we are sure to bring back an extra kilo of this milky goodness to divide among our friends and neighbors. It's always received with great pleasure. Lately I have also begun doing some baking and the biscotti and ciambelle that have been coming from my oven are also well received. I've pretty much perfected my walnut biscotti, different from the ones that I make in the States. These are very simple with no butter or oil at all. The only liquid comes from the eggs used to moisten the dough. They are so good dunked in our morning cappuccinos or a little after dinner glass of vin santo.
While the people of Cervinara tend to be very jealous of their land, protecting every square meter of what little plots they have, they are very willing to show off their agricultural skills by sharing whatever comes from those little bits of land that they hold so dear.

Norm!!!

Mike and I have never been barflies and have never had a corner bar where "Everyone knows your name"....that is until now. Now, we have La Rinascita right down the street and, even if everyone doesn't know our name, everyone knows we are the "americani", and that we go down every morning for our cappuccino and to read the daily paper.
Adriana is the barista, and she gets there about 6 am every morning to open the bar and heat up the espresso machine. She stays until around 11 when her son Mateo comes to relieve her. They are open until around 12:30, then close for lunch, and reopen from 4 pm until 11 pm. Every day, Adriana is there, providing us with some fun conversation, pouring beers for the card players and putting up with their teasing.
Besides the regular daily visits for coffee, beer or a quick shot of brandy from the adults, the children in the neighborhood drop by at all hours to pick up an ice cream or a bag of chips or, their favorite, nutella with dipping sticks. Yum!
In the evening there is a gang that gathers to play cards. They play all sorts of games, from Scala a Quaranta to Scopa to TreSette. One thing is consistent: the yelling that goes along with every hand. If one were to take the yelling seriously, the police would be called at least once a night! But they accuse each other of cheating, curse the gods for their bad luck and then buy a round of beers for the table. It's all just part of the routine.
When a special occasion happens, a marriage, birthday or saint's day, the honoree usually provides some special treats for the evening gatherers. Last night, the son of one of the fellows got married, so there were cookies and pastries galore. When her granddaughter made her first communion, Adriana pulled out the grill and cooked up sausages and chops for the whole crowd. She also had a variety of peppers, eggplant, cheeses and salamis there to be sampled. Needless to say, everything was delicious.
It's so nice on evenings like that, sitting around this dinky little terrace, with a couple of wobbly plastic tables and lousy plastic forks, digging in to the local treats with gusto. We make all sorts of noise and no one complains, at least to us! As darkness settles in and the children get called to bed, the crowd disperses and everyone heads home to relax and enjoy an evening of TV, reading or just visiting quietly with neighbors, knowing that tomorrow La Rinascita will reawaken and provide our little corner of town with refreshments and entertainment. We finally have a place "where everybody knows our name"!

The Piazzas of Cervinara

Cervinara, like just about every other Italian town, large or small, has its share of piazzas. In Italian culture, the piazza represents communal life at its most vibrant. It is the place where children gather to kick a soccer ball around, where teens strut their stuff for members of the opposite sex, where parents watch their children run around freely, and where senior citizens sit on benches and talk over the good old days. In short, the piazza is at the center of every neighborhood and it plays a vital role in everyday life.
In Cervinara, there are several piazzas. The one nearest our home up in Ioffredo, is in front of the Chiesa di San Nicola. After the floods of 1999, the church, surrounding homes and the piazza were either damaged or destroyed. Now, in 2011, the town has begun reconstruction of the piazza, making it into the pleasant place to hang out that it used to be. Repaving, using small paver stones, has been completed. We are awaiting the finishing treatments....lamp posts, benches, fences that will protect little ones from falling into the river, etc. We can't wait to see the whole project finished, but we're not sure when that will be!
A short walk from our neighborhood takes us to the Ferrari section of town. The centerpiece of this neighborhood is Piazza Elena, named for one of the queens of Italy. It is, in my opinion, the prettiest of all of Cervinara's piazzas. There are lots of benches for sitting while enjoying an ice cream from one of the two bars that are located here. There is a lovely old fountain from which young and old alike take refreshment. There is the Palazzo Marchesale, the old palace of the Marchesa, which fronts up to the piazza. And, most importantly, are the trees....centuries old yet still offering shade to the tired pedestrian.
Further down into town is Piazza Trescine. This is the political center of town. Here we find the Municipio or town hall, banks, newspaper stands, bars and restaurants, etc. There is a new fountain that was put in a few months ago, not nearly as charming as the Ferrari fountain, but still a nice addition. The town has worked hard to make this piazza a welcoming one, adding benches and planting trees too.
Finally, another brief walk from Trescine is the Villa Communale. This is the largest piazza in Cervinara and offers something for everyone. It is a gated piazza, so children are free to run around through the playground and parents don't have to worry about them darting into the traffic. There are trees, statues, shaded paths for strolling, and most importantly, a great gelateria. Micione makes some of the best gelato anywhere. Their menu is limited to usually eight flavors, but that is because they make it fresh daily. Any sunny Sunday afternoon will find the Villa Communale bustling with families working off their dinner, children scampering through the monkey bars, lovers strolling hand in hand, and people like us enjoying a gelato.
Without its piazzas, Cervinara would not be the same. Without its piazzas, Italy would not be the same. These areas allow for a gregarious and lively people to meet, play and talk together as few places in the United States do. Tutti in piazza!

Trattoria 41, Cervinara

Trattoria 41, Cervinara
We went to the Trattoria 41 after a Sunday morning excursion to Benevento. It was a beautiful, warm day and we wanted some good home-style cooking. We were not disappointed!
The 41 is a family affair, run in an old building a couple of blocks behind the Cervinara town hall. After going through the entry gate, we found ourselves in a courtyard of an old house. On the right was a three basin sink, carved out of a huge block of stone. One of the basins had a wash board type of area carved out of the same stone. It must have been a very convenient spot for doing the laundry a hundred years or so ago, much more convenient than going to the fountains in the piazzas to do that chore.
We were seated and a young woman came and told us about the various dishes that would be available that day. We chose to split an antipasto platter that was the house specialty and that included some cold cuts, mozzarella, grilled veggies and some good fresh bread. After the antipasto we opted for a pasta course. Mike had tagliatelle (home made) with a sauce made with local porcini mushrooms and ground beef. I had orecchietti with a variety of vegetables (eggplant, roasted peppers, zucchini). Both dishes were wonderful, but Mike's sauce was a little heavily salted. Mine was perfect!
We opted to skip the second course and head straight for dessert. There was only one item on the menu, a little tart filled with a lovely lemon cream. Yum. We had a 1/2 bottle of local red wine to accompany our meal. The price? Only 20 euros for the entire affair! By the way, no tipping is necessary, so the bill is what the bill is.
We will be back to 41 often, as it is only a couple of miles from our house and it is certainly worth the trip!