Pasquetta (Little Easter, Easter Monday)
Today is Pasquetta—Little Easter, or Easter Monday. The day everyone goes out to the countryside for barbecue or picnic and time together. The focus is friends/family; it’s not a religious holiday. A perfect day for a birthday!
I woke up early-ish (considering all the recent slim-on-sleep nights), just in case. Sometimes there’s short notice that we’re leaving. Not long after I got dressed, I heard a couple pair of little footsteps haltingly making their way upstairs. I opened our door and looked down. Ettore and Tea were carefully holding papers in one hand, and the railing with the other. They were ear-to-ear smiling, very proud to hand me the birthday greetings they made.
We hung out a little, so Ettore could show Tea how he powerfully throws me on the bed until I do a backwards somersault. He’s very into this Hercules role play.
Together we walked down to Elena’s, as she was asking from her doorway if I wanted to see the Torta she made for me. Walking towards the kitchen, Giuseppe said, “Ho fatto la torta, io,” to which I responded, “Tu? Non Maria Teresa?” At which point he gave up his glorious laugh, while Elena laughed and said, “Touché, Karen!” The inside joke is, whenever there is some stupendously-made food or sweet, Giuseppe always false-compliments Maria Teresa, giving her full credit when she had nothing to to with it. Since he was playing this about himself, I gave him a taste of his own medicine!
We rode with Vincenzo to the vigne, where they had two camini —fireplaces—going at full roar. Lilliana said they like the smoke; they’re steeping in it. I said, oh; you’ll be like perfect salumi when you are finished. She said if I stayed, I would smell like it too, and it would be an aphrodisiac for Joseph. Little did she know that smoke, dust, and mold are my only allergy triggers, but it seemed worth an extra Zyrtec tonight.
The food was already rolling out. It’s sunny and warm today, but up on the mountain in spring means there could be a gust of wind one minute, a sun shower the next. So things were set up in the garage. And by garage, I mean a place to park a couple of cars and motos, house a trampoline, a fussball table, a staircase up to our summer bedroom and bath, a full kitchen, a fireplace, liquor cabinets, and a long table and chairs suitable for 30.
Joe and Carmelo, the two thin ones, as Alessandro said, went for a walk outside the property before dinner, and found funghi di Ferla and asparagi selvatica.
Starters were:
a multi-layered brioche, which had a different type of sandwich filling in each layer
Casatiello, a Napoli-style Easter bread studded with crispy meat bits, made by Lilliana
Warm bread brought by Raji’s parents, who we met for the first time. They are the French-Italian equivalent of successful hippies. They’re somewhat nomadic, have been to many places in the world, and dad collects seeds and artifacts for their healing powers. People reach him through people who know him; he refuses to sell through the internet. Interesting guy. He’s quite Buddha-esque, in that he says things such as, “I love me. In this way, I can love others. We forget about the ‘other’ when we focus on me, me, me. People who hate the ‘other’ really hate something inside themselves. Until that changes, there will only be hate for the other person.” Well, if he didn’t just describe my ex sister-in-law, I don’t know who can. I wish she’d love herself.
I digress.
There was more to eat:
Two types of lasagne; traditional ragù, and pistachio pesto.
Rolled eggplant Involtini, stuffed with cheese and cooked in sugo
Grilled eggplant slices
Funghi di Ferla
Fried Zucchini
Wild herb frittata
Italian potato salad
Artichokes
Fire-roasted cauliflower
Lamb chops
Polpettone with smoked prosciutto
Spring onions wrapped in pancetta and grilled
Grilled sausages
Hard-boiled (Easter) eggs
Elena’s Birthday Torta, complete with song
Assorted mignon brought by Cettina and Carmelo
Wine!
We gathered for the birthday cake singing and photo, but Fr. Giuseppe was in charge of my non-intuitive stupid phone, so we only have blips of the English version (although both renditions were sung).
Nonno photo directed the next shots, with me and Joe. “Il due Karen e Joseph,” “Adesso un bacio,” and then some of Vincenzo and Mariella.
Mariella made Moka espresso, and the women separated from the men. Some of the guys, Giuseppe, Alessandro, Raji, went out to a bar for a caffe.
And some fierce foosball competition broke out.
Maria Teresa and Mariella bought me a beautiful necklace, with a charm I can add to the pendant, or attach to a bracelet. It’s a cobalt-blue spinning globe. But my very favorite birthday greeting, up to this moment in my life, is the drawing from Agnese.
The card shows the two of us in different ways: Italian flag, American flag; Pizza, Hamburger (she gets the stereotype joke); young Agnese and me. I love it so much.
We hung out at the vineyard for quite some time; friends of Elena and Giuseppe arrived (really nice people, Federica, Valentina, Alberto), and we decided to take the Clio and go home. Mariella asked if we’d mind taking Nonno, which of course was no problem, so after he made a bathroom pit stop, we piled in and left. I mention that last item, because I’m so grateful he had the foresight.
Joe pulled up to the main garage, which has the elevator. We got Nonno inside, Joe shut the garage door, and I pressed the elevator button. Nothing. Pressed again. Nothing. Nonno suggested perhaps someone left the outside elevator door open a crack, which would stop the movement.
Ok Nonno; I promise I’ll run. I’ll go check the elevator door on each landing. I couldn’t get it to work on any floor, but pushed them all shut and ran back to the garage, thinking maybe Nonno was messing with the button. Nothing. It was a little drafty. I ran back up to Alessandro’s apartment and got a blanket off the couch. Amidst protests, I covered Nonno’s back and shoulders. Maybe it’s an interior door, he said. Oh, duh! Why didn’t I check those? So I ran back; now Joe’s on it as well, and we checked Elena’s bedroom, Mariella’s kitchen, Alessandro’s spare room, and Nonno’s recently-vacated apartment (he moved in with Mariella and Vincenzo). Ran back down to the garage. I implored Nonno for the second time to walk a few steps to his old apartment; I’d help. It’s warm there. Stubborn as a mule. No.
As a last resort, we called Vincenzo, who said he’s coming down from the vineyard. He had to get up in the attic with a master key, but got it working. We got Nonno inside, and now we’re in our place lazing around for what’s left of the evening.
While Nonno and I were waiting in the garage together, I checked my messages since we have service in there. I got a super sweet electronic greeting from Nikos, which brought a tiny tear to my eye (so that’s my favorite “card” of the day), a Happy Birthday from John, my sister, and my mom; Maria checked in again and left a greeting, and I can’t leave out the fact that Joe, romantic as always, started my day with a beautifully written note. In Italian.
It’s one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had (ask my sister; there have been manyyyy not-so-perfect ones!), and definitely the best Pasquetta I’ve had!
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