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Adventures in Abruzzo, Part 2

By Joann Novello

Joe Novello in Montazolli

(In the last issue of The Notiziario, Joann Novello described the first part of her family’s special trip to Abruzzo in 2018. Here is the rest of the story.)

As part of our pilgrimage to Joe’s birthplace, we paid homage to the treasured locations of his childhood: “his” bench in front of the house where he was born, where he passed countless hours playing with his cousins; the masseria (farmhouse) once owned by his family, a long walk out of town (we trekked it, round trip, downhill and back up!), where he spent many a summer’s day and night; the communal laundry area and animal watering fountain, no longer in use but preserved for its historic value; the soccer field; the main church of San Silvestro, Papa, where he served as an altar boy; the medieval castle, now unfortunately abandoned and falling to ruin because of disputes among the owners of the apartments into which it had been divided, and the cemetery, resting place of so many.

Following this nostalgic route took a long time, despite the small size of the town, because we encountered former classmates, a few relatives, and many who mistook Joe for his brother Nicola, who visits every summer during ferragosto, the August holidays. Naturally, this all required lengthy conversations to catch up and to share stories, old and new.

During one of the chats, I learned something I had never heard before: the story behind the baby boom the year Joe was born. Apparently, Mussolini instituted military conscription, exempting men who had four or more children and prompting loving farewells on the part of others. No wonder he has so many schoolmates and cousins his age! Another memorable stop was to the commune (town hall), to arrange to pay the taxes on Joe’s garage, not memorable for nostalgic reasons, but because of what it taught us about the Italian bureaucracy.

We actually paid a number of visits, first to learn that the tax assessor only visited the office once a week, in the afternoon, only to find on our return that she was late that day, then when we finally found her in and she prepared the paperwork, requiring many signatures and official stamps, she told us that the actual payment had to be made at the post office, which was closed by then. We went to the post office the next morning, where they asked for an official government ID before accepting the payment. It was not as if we were asking them for money, but they needed it to receive the cash payment! It just so happened that Joe had left his passport in the hotel that morning; fortunately, he convinced them to accept his driver’s license, so after a number of other official stamps and required signatures, the job was accomplished.

“We encountered former classmates, a few relatives, and many who mistook Joe for his brother Nicola.”

Our hotel was La Collinetta. The young proprietor, Thomas Sangiuliano (yes, he has an English name, because his late father worked in restaurants in New York before returning home to build the hotel and restaurant) and his wife, Rosetta, run a very nice family establishment, with the assistance of their charming four year old son, Daniel. Tom also teaches cooking classes at the world famous cooking school in the nearby town of Villa Santa Maria. His cuisine is wonderful, and he presents an extensive menu, especially for a restaurant in a small village.

In the evenings, for cena, he fires up the brick oven to make delicious pizza, and for pranzo, he offers many delicious antipasto, pasta and meat dishes. Everything seems to be sourced locally, including the homemade salumi and the cheeses from Caseificio San Giovanni, the artisanal cheese factory in town, and the lettuce that, on a previous visit, I spied growing in the family’s garden alongside the hotel. My favorite meal, if I had to choose, was probably girasole con crema di noce (sunflower shaped and colored ravioli with walnut cream sauce) and Joe’s was the traditional, local pasta, sagne al pomodoro (homemade pasta squares in a simple tomato sauce), reminding him of his mother’s, although the tagliatelle con funghi porcini was probably a close second.

The grilled meats were always tender and well-prepared, the salads fresh and crisp, the local wines very nice. The family works hard, but the future is uncertain in a small village where their business largely depends on the month of August with the influx of returning emigrants and city dwellers to make up for the rest of the year. One evening, in the restaurant, we encountered a family visiting from California. The young man turned out to be the son of a high school mate of Joe’s from Scotch Plains, New Jersey; they are the son and grandson of a native Montazzolese. Various family members visit periodically and always stay at La Collinetta. During the exchange of pleasantries, we discovered that a cousin of this fellow’s is married to my cousin’s brother-in-law.

Talk about a small world with six degrees of separation. Over the following days, we met others from Joe’s past, still living in town, coming to celebrate special family occasions at the restaurant. We also encountered a couple from Brazil who were visiting for the first time in search of the woman’s family roots. They were somewhat hampered by the distance of many years since the last familial contact with the village, their lack of proficiency in Italian, and the need to move on to fulfill their itinerary of visiting some of Italy’s more well known attractions. Nevertheless, they were pleased to have had the experience of walking the streets trod by the lady’s ancestors and seeing the church and other sites recounted in family lore.

Joe and his grandchildren at the bench where he played as a child.

To vary the days, we visited several other towns, including Agnone, in nearby Molise. We had visited the year prior to see many of the fourteen churches and to tour the world famous Pontificia Fonderia Marinelli, the papal bell foundry. On that occasion, we travelled over an ill-maintained local road virtually abandoned by other cars. This time, we decided to take the more modern road which entailed crossing a very high bridge connecting Abruzzo and Molise.

Shortly after our return home, we learned that this bridge was designed by the same architect who planned the ill fated Morandi bridge that collapsed in Milan! The Abruzzo-Molise connector has since been closed following a determination that it, too, was unsafe. But the day we visited, the attraction was a tour of the Museo del Rame, which provided a fascinating film of the history of copper making in Agnone, and had a display of the tools used in the forges and the products created by the artisans.

Of course, there was an extensive gift shop of copper plates, vases, pots, and other household articles, all of which were purported to be made in Agnone. We capped the morning with cappuccino in the Caffe Letterario, where we toasted AMHS’s own Maria D’Andrea and Albert Paolantonio, who frequented the location in 2017 while attending their Italian immersion class in Agnone. Before leaving the city, we purchased bread and cheese for a scampagnata at the picnic grounds of the country chapel in Montazzoli (which would be the site of the festival of La Madonna della Spogna in a few short days). This beautifully restored location was a far cry from the overgrown and neglected grounds we had lamented about on a visit ten years prior. The flowers, especially the roses, the manicured lawn, and the ladybugs were our peaceful companions for our lunch.

The rosins of the cathedral in Atessa

Two days later, we went to Atessa, where we had been in the past to do some banking but had not explored to any extent. It was certainly a city worth seeing, another small gem in a country of so many large jewels. We saw some interesting modern fountains and sculptures, and discovered the beautiful Duomo di San Leucio with a lovely rose window, or rosone. Later, while wandering the shopping district, we came across a jewelry store, Gioielli Di Paolo, which featured in its shop window a medallion of the rosone, perfect gifts for our granddaughters. We learned that the jeweler had fashioned this himself to commemorate his city’s unique and special emblem.

When we purchased three of the small versions for the girls, and one larger one for me, Signore DiPaolo gave us a different and equally pretty medallion as a gift. This small display of courtesy and generosity, so typical of the Italians, added immeasurable good feeling to our experience. Certainly, the family owned business could not have expected that we, American tourists, would come back shortly for more purchases, yet they showed us this kindness, with no strings attached. Finally, the day around which we had planned the trip arrived: July2, La Festa della Madonna della Spogna.

Our three daughters and their families also arrived to experience a typical feast celebrated in a small village, one where the roots of the family run deep. Truth be told, the grandchildren were probably more excited to be reunited with their cousins and grandparents than anything else. Rather than a full procession, since the statue of the Madonna had been taken from the main church to the country chapel earlier in the spring, a band in full regalia and some of the faithful paraded through the town. Joined by Joe’s cousins Don Domenico, the bishop, and his sister Malvina, we attended the outdoor Mass celebrated at the chapel.

The bishop of Vasto Chieti, Bruno Forte, who visited Washington several years ago and attended the AMHS Gala, and whom we had encountered in 2013 when he presided over Confirmation in Montazzoli, was unable to attend, but sent an emissary to concelebrate the Mass with the current pastor and the recently reassigned former pastor. The day had become quite warm (a few days earlier, because it was so cool, I had suggested to our daughters that they bring sweaters but the weather in the mountains can change very quickly). So after the children and their parents had the opportunity to purchase a few souvenirs and snacks from the vendor trucks set up around the chapel, we returned to La Collinetta for a delicious pranzo.

Thomas and Joe had planned the menu to include the signature Abruzzese dish of spaghetti alla chitarra, sagne, squash ravioli, assorted roasted meats, salad, green beans, and a fabulous dessert, torta di pera (pear tart) for the adults, and assorted gelato confections for the children. The toast to everyone’s health and well-being — and the possibility of another visit — was made with prosecco. Later in the afternoon, we walked around town, pointing out places of interest and family history to the children. When we noted the house where Joe was born, our oldest granddaughter, age 7, said, “But Nonno, I thought you were born in a barn!” Guess it was all the stories that Joe told about spending so much of his youth in the masseria that led her to this conclusion.

The children even got a tour of Joe’s inheritance, his garage, and probably had the most fun at the playground, located in the town park, La Pineta. In the evening, a rock band performed in the piazza, certainly not part of the tradition from Joe’s youth. The celebration ended with fireworks at midnight.

A scene from the Festa della Madonna della Spogna.

On July 4, we left Montazzoli just as the proprietors of La Collinetta were preparing a party marking the American Independence Day for a group of people from the nearby town of Colle di Mezzo who had lived in the States but returned to their native town upon retirement. They had the tradition of getting together every year to enjoy the American holiday. Upon leaving Montazzoli, we went on our way to celebrate our anniversary in Pescara, a beach resort and birthplace of the poet Gabriele D’Annunzio, which we had not visited in many years.

We got lost trying to find our hotel, and began to drive in a pedestrian-only area, when we were stopped by a local policeman. Thinking we were in danger of getting a ticket, Joe explained that we were lost. The policeman proceeded to lead us to our hotel: no ticket, only unsolicited service and great Italian courtesy! We thoroughly enjoyed the day walking the lungomare and having a pranzo of fresh fish at Ristorante La Murena. I chose a platter of roasted fish, while Joe indulged in another of his favorites, brodetto di pesce. The meal was capped off by a complementary glass of a local amaro.

It was as if they knew it was our anniversary. If that was not enough, we walked across the bridge which was festooned with “locks of love,” a nice anniversary conclusion. We departed Abruzzo to head back up the boot to bid farewell to Zia Emma and Anna in Venice before boarding our plane to return home. The vacation was a perfect mix of family, new sights, revisiting old haunts, and fine food. Perhaps most significantly, we made memories, especially with the youngest generation of the Novello clan. What more can anyone ask?

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