Recently, on a bright, crisp late summer day, I thought we should take our son, Lucas to Ellis Island to see his grandfather's name on the Immigrant Wall of Honor. Lucas never knew his grandfather, which is why he knows him as "Angel Grandpa", but through my stories he feels that he knew him. I'm happy for that. I never knew either of my grandfathers--they were both gone long before I was born. Both were immigrants and so was my father, Saverio Finzi.

Dad passed through Ellis Island in 1914 at the age of 4, with his father, Sergio, his mother, Caterina De Ceglia, his older brother, Anselmo and baby sister, Antonia. His father, Sergio had two prior excursions to America before being able to bring his family with him to start their new lives.

There were 12 other men from Molfetta traveling with Sergio on his 1907 voyage. Many from Molfetta eventually settled in Hoboken--which still today is considered a sister city to Molfetta. The cold, early spring sea voyage lasted 13 days. He was going to stay with his "cousin, Domenico Pansini" in Hoboken, NJ. 

On his second trip, there were 8 other men from his hometown of Molfetta traveling with Sergio Finzi. He was the only man from Molfetta to list a trade (tailor), with all the others listing themselves as "laborers". Sergio listed his "brother, Mauro" on the ship's manifest as the person he was meeting in Hoboken, NJ. It must have been rough at first--he had only $13 in his pocket when he first arrived on Ellis Island.

By the time Sergio returned in 1914 with his family, he came with $27 and paid for their passage himself. He left a home, mother, father, brothers and an entire life back in Italy. At the time there was fear about the upcoming war, there was massive inflation and joblessness. He was 5'3" tall with blue eyes--just like my father, Saverio.

I wanted Lucas to learn from the exhibits in the Ellis Island museum displays just how hard it was for his grandfather's family to make the sacrifice and leave their native Italy to start a New Life here in America. I wanted him to know why this Presidential election is so important--especially considering the negative rhetoric concerning immigrants. I wanted him to understand that although at one time Italians were "the other", most like my father Saverio, became American citizens. 

When I saw Lucas searching for his grandfather's name along the bright stainless steel walls of the Wall of Honor, I knew he felt proud... and then he found it. We touched the engraved "Saverio Finzi" together.

You have a fantastic grandson, Dad. He's proud of your memory--you would be so proud of him.

--Jerry Finzi

--September 29

One of Hoboken, New Jersey's historic gems--the Lackawanna Terminal Railway Station--suffered a terrible tragedy this morning when a train full of morning commuters from Spring Valley, NY plowed full speed past the concrete terminus of the line. The rail cars flew into the air, injuring 100 or more and killing at least one person who wasn't even on the train itself--she was standing on the platform.  The lead car came within inches of breaking through the walls and into the beautifully restored waiting room, a proud piece of Hoboken's history from 1907, when thousands of Italian immigrants found their way from Ellis Island and into their new lives in Hoboken itself and beyond in the rest of America.

The glass roof above the station platform collapsed onto the train below, while people broke out train windows and crawled to their freedom. Passengers and NJ Transit workers alike were the first to spring into action, helping to get the injured out of harms way. 

The station serves 7 train lines bringing more than 15,000 commuters into the New York City hub daily.  Passengers either switch to the PATH subway trains to travel under the Hudson River into Manhattan, or take waiting ferries across the busy New York City waterway. 

Needless to say, this incident will disrupt travel for months to come.

(Read about our Visit to Hoboken HERE)

In the United States, we consume over 250 million pounds of garlic each year, and believe it or not, unlike 10 years ago when most of it came from California, today over 50% of our garlic comes from China. Yes. China. Where "organic" food doesn't exist. Where crops are manured with human waste. Where they force people to move far away from their homes to towns dedicated to a particular industry (toy town, electronics town, carpet town, etc.)... but the production and export of garlic from China has grown so much that they have an entire province dedicated to their stinky garlic production--Shandong.

My son Lucas was the first to bring Chinese garlic to my attention last year when we were in our favorite supermarket. "Dad, look at the label on that mesh bag of garlic! It's Made in China!" He was right. I've since learned that the Chinese garlic is to be avoided at all costs for a variety of reasons. I mean, really? We can't grow our own garlic?

There's even a Black Market of Chinese garlic with cartels that act just like drug dealers. In Europe, smuggling garlic in from China is a big business, often wreaking havoc on the market price of garlic.

We here in the U.S. can be a pretty complacent bunch. It doesn't matter where Walmart gets the products that stock their shelves, as long as we can get it cheap. So much for Made in the USA. Sure, we complain about not enough jobs, but then go ahead and support industries that buy from China and Mexico and a host of other countries, while they close down factories and farms here in the States.

Apparently, with us buying over 50% of our garlic from the China, we don't care much... as long as it's bleached white (yes, they actually use bleach), blemish free (they use many toxic chemicals that kill everything, even beneficial insects) and is cheap (they manipulate the market) and tastes more or less like garlic. Most Americans have no idea what organically grown garlic tastes like.

Italians love their Aglio!
And because of that passion, Chinese garlic isn't going down easily with Italians.The total production of garlic in Italy is about 30 millions pounds, with only around 2-2/5 million pounds of Chinese garlic being imported annually. There are a few a good reasons for this...

First of all, to Italians, there isn't just one generic type of garlic. Italians are used to buying fresh garlic in local open air markets. And they have many options: the red garlic of Sulmona, Polesano garlic, white garlic of Vessalico, garlic dell'Ufita, garlic of Molino dei Torti, the garlic of Resia, the Massese garlic, red garlic of Castelliri, Nubia, garlic from the Maremma in Tuscany and the Monticelli garlic from Campania. Italians have choice. Italians love choice, too... especially when it comes to their produce.

The other reason why  Italians aren't warming up to Chinese garlic is because their love of fresh, healthy ingredients. The Italian diet makes Italians one of the healthiest countries in the world. (Read about Italy, the Healthiest European Country HERE). In 2010 China won the dubious distinction of the most contaminated foods being exported to other countries. Their garlic contain mycotoxins, additives and colorants not approved by the European Union. Many of the irregularities are due to their garlic coming into contact with other toxic chemicals either during storage or shipment. Italians like to know where their food comes from--often from their own garden, or from a farmer they are on a first name basic with.

The surprising thing in all this is that Italians may be in for a real fight against how the European Union is warming up to Chinese garlic. In 2011, the European Union's Official Journal gave the Chinese garlic variety, Jinxiang Da Suan Protected Designation of Origin (DOP) and Protected Geographical Indications (PGI). Che cavall0!  This is how they protect Chianti wine, Parmigiano Reggiano, Prosciutto di Parma and other Italian regional specialties. How could this be happening. The EU is run by a bunch of business leaders. The fat cats. The "One Percent-ers". That's why.

So, Bravo! to Italians in fighting back and not letting Chinese garlic take over their marketplace. As for me, I suppose I'll just have to start growing my own. Garlic is supposed to be so easy that you can grown it indoors.

I'll let you all know how that plan goes... Hey, since Lucas started this, I'll get him to plant the garlic!

--Jerry Finzi

Before the earthquake, the town of Amatrice (pronounced am-ah-TREE-chay) in the Lazio region of northern Italy, was known for many things... the wonderful mountain setting, suited for fishing and trekking in summer, and for skiing in the winter. The town itself was a beautiful, quaint medieval village, complete with many frescoes in its churches, a famous rose window and of course, its campanile with its huge bell. But there was one thing the town was even more famous for: the gastronomic treasure called Spaghetti Amatriciana.

As you may know, most of the town was destroyed in the quake. Many lives were lost. But for certain, one tradition lives on and may be the thing that helps the village rise from the ashes. Spaghetti Amatriciana has been made since the 18th century, and more than likely, its history goes back much further than that. Restaurants all over the world have been offering the dish with proceeds going to aide the people and commune of Amatrice.

Spaghetti Amatriciana was originally a peasant recipe, created by poor shepherds who used one of the cheapest--often discarded--parts of the pig, namely guanciale (or pig jowls). Similar to bacon, guanciale has more fat and little or no salt or smoke flavor. The addition of tomatoes, onions and white wine complete the recipe. One can understand why such a fatty part of the hog got to be a favorite in the mountainous region--fat helps keep the body warm.

Today, the sauce has several variants. Gricia, is a simple sauce similar to Amatriciana also using guanciale, with pecorino (sheep) cheese and black pepper, but no tomatoes. This might actually be the earliest predecessor of Amatriciana, possibly dating back before tomatoes were brought back from the New World. The ingredients are simple and easily carried in a shepherd's pack. Then there is Bucatini 'Matriciana (in Roman dialect) which came to Rome in the 1800s and today is considered to be a classic of Roman cuisine, even though the dish came from Amatrice. Finally, and perhaps most famous of this family of sauces is Spaghetti alla Carbonara, a Roman dish using eggs and either Pecorino Romano or Parmigiano-Reggiano to make a creamy sauce, with black pepper and some sort of bacon added (either guanciale, pancetta or at times, prosciutto).

I felt compelled to make an authentic version of Spaghetti Amatriciana in remembrance of the souls lost in Amatrice... I did Google searches in Italian to ensure I would find traditional, local recipes. I then set out to make it for Lisa and Lucas...

Ingredients
1 pound of spaghetti
3 ounces of guanciale (if you can't find it, substitute pancetta)
1 small onion, diced
16 ounces of diced tomatoes (use fresh if you have access to sweet tomatoes)
1-1/2 cups white wine (to keep it regional, use wine made with the Trebbiano grape)
1/2 cup grated Pecorino-Romano

Directions

1. To begin, if using guanciale, place it in the freezer for 30 minutes.
2. Add 1 pound of spaghetti to a large pot with well-salted, boiling water. Cook until al dente.
3. After starting your pasta, remove the guanciale from the freezer and cut into 1/4" slices, then cut into thin strips across its narrow width.
4. In a large saute pan, cook the guanciale on a medium flame, until browned and starting to get crisp on its meaty sections. The fatty areas will look translucent when done.
5. Remove the guanciale and drain on paper towels.
6. Using paper towels, wipe out the excess fat.
7. Place the pan back on a medium flame and add the diced onions and continue to cook until they are translucent.
8. Next, add the tomatoes and the wine and raise the flame to high. Reduce the sauce for 2-3 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside.
9. Drain your pasta and place it in a large pasta bowl. Add the Amatriciana sauce and toss gently with a pair of tongs. Add the grated cheese and toss a bit more.

Serve with some nice crunchy bread cut into small slices for use as a scarpetta. (Read about using a scarpetta HERE) and a nice glass of white wine.

I'm going to be honest, here. When I was a boy, my Dad used to love fatty things. He would eat the thick, white fat off the sides of his steaks. I've never developed a taste for eating fat. I never liked the greasy texture of the stuff. My bacon has to be crispy. I prefer a drier prosciutto. I like my bacon crispy.

Although the flavors of our Spaghetti Amatriciana were pretty good, none of us really enjoyed the gelatinous texture of the guanciale itself. The striations of actual pork meat were cooked well, but had a dryness and lack of flavor that matched the bits of pork in the pork-fried rice we order from our local Chinese take-out. The fatty parts were--well, just plain fatty. 

The dish itself wasn't really greasy (I had removed most of the rendered fat from the pan), but it did have a lard-like flavor I didn't enjoy.

If I wanted to make this dish again, I might modify it to our family's tastes... perhaps not using a raw type of bacon (I do realize that technically, guanciale is not a "bacon"), but instead using a thick cut smoked bacon, like prosciutto. Or, as a fussier solution, I would cut the meaty parts of the guanciale out to add them and saute them later on, only after the fattier parts have gone crispy, like I prefer American style bacon.

I hope no one thinks I'm disrespecting the original Spaghetti Amatriciana recipe. I love authentic recipes and regional products. But I'll be the first to admit it, when exploring the culinary world often I find my taste palette is not as broad as I would hope it to be. Still, I loved making this dish in honor of Amatrice and its inhabitants (and those in neighboring communes) have--and are--going through. Before partaking in our meal, we had a moment of silence on behalf of the lost lives.

With so much attention paid to their wonderful town, I am certain that in time, they will rebuild, stone by stone, as I have seen on other towns in Europe after such disasters.

So, try your own tribute with this recipe, or a variation or by making one of it's "cousin" dishes. And don't forget to make a donation to help them rebuild.

Pray for Amatrice.

--Jerry Finzi