Italian comes first
While I found out that I am part Irish 11 years ago, I was always Italian. Being raised Roman Catholic, St Joseph's day was always celebrated in my neighborhood. I am willing to bet that if you are in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn today, MonteLeone's and Court Pastry, along with Caputo's Bakery, are all wishing the neighborhood a Happy St Joseph's Day
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I know what you mean. Growing up Italian and Catholic in New York is an experience you just can't explain to people on the West Coast. And even though I left when I was in my early teens, I used to go back every summer from June to August (I used to love the Heat & Humidity) until I was about 18. So that is all in my blood and I miss it. There is so little tradition of that sort out here. And it's easy to loose it. You loose it like loosing your accent. One day you wake up and realize it's just not the same and you're missing something. I just got in touch with a childhood friend in Douglaston who tracked me down through my website. It was like going back through time talking to her. It really made me homesick for my relatives, devil dogs and a great kinish. Not to mention walking in Manhattan and catching a whiff of the subway. That smell of burnt chestnuts, sweat and humidity that just screams New York.
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There goes the diet! Now I'm craving all of it! I am thinking of going back at the end of July to go to a concert with my brother. I haven't seen Summer in The City in 4 years.
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