Quando avevo undici anni, nei giorni dopo la sesta classe, avevo viaggiato in Italia con mio padre Davide, suo cugino Federico, e Nicola, il figlio di Federico. Sebbene siamo andati dappertutto la penisola, l’obiettivo del viaggio era riunire con la nostra famiglia a Gaeta.

Partendo da Roma, nostro cugino Angelo ci guidava al suo paese, Velletri. Dopo una breve pausa, avevamo continuato piú lontano fino a che siamo arrivati a Gaeta, appena a nord di Napoli.

I nostri parenti avevano una casa umile, ma i loro benvenuti per noi erano stravaganti—davvero, oltre i loro mezzi. Mangiavamo prosciutto con melone, pasta, e coniglio—mentre la ricezione incostante del loro televisione in bianco e nero mostrava una corsa di macchine con Michael Schumacher.

Piú tardi, ci hanno mostrato la spiaggia continua e alcuni dei punti di riferimento nella città.

C’era la “montagna spiccat” una montagna spaccata dal terremoto che è risultato in una chiesa rafforzata tra le due metá. Potevamo andare in questa chiesa e lungo il cammino c’era la famosa “mano del turco,” un’impressione nella scogliera delle cinque dita che secondo la leggenda, si era formata nel momento in cui un marinaio turco miscredente si era appoggiato alla roccia che miracolosamente divenne morbida sotto la sua pressione formando l’impronta della mano. Sotto queste meraviglie c’è una grotta colorata di un blu purissimo.

In poche ore, mi ho trovato innamorato di tutte le cose italiane. Quando ho visto il tramonto quella sera, avevo deciso che volevo imparare l’italiano per ritornare in questo bel posto e avere un’esperienza completa. E così il mio viaggio con la lingua italiana era cominciato.

Immigration at the turn of the 20th century was a different animal. While conflict, poverty, and natural disaster were still the thrust that drove people to find better life elsewhere, the reception was part of a broader construct. Admission into the United States was more than trying to ensure the newcomers did not carry infectious disease. It was part of a mindset that admitting inferior beings to the states risked bringing a certain disease of character. Crialese’s film details the tests for “feeble-mindedness” or the discrimination against those with non-contagious conditions such as being “mute” which made nativists–liberally interpreting ideas of Freud and other emerging thinkers–feel threatened. It was a fear of rejection that my grandmother’s family left my great aunt behind, because she had epilepsy. It was because of the stringent rules of admission that my grandfather had to have a surgery back in Italy with less than adequate care in order to be allowed into America. His surgery was butchery and he had many medical troubles in the years to follow, but America let him in and its healthcare, however flawed it may be in current debate, has brought him to his ninetieth year with only one kidney and despite three bouts of cancer.

As much promise as America might have presented for those parting from the medieval lifestyle of Italy’s southernmost shores, it was also not filled with the seas of milk and money trees that were scattered amongst other rumors of the country’s promise. But it wasn’t without offerings of hope, either. Once immigrants got past the puzzles and other IQ tests completely removed from the tests of intelligence of old world lifestyles, there was a second side of the coin. Both sides of the immigrant experience are illustrated in Nuovo Mondo.

The year: 1441. The place: Cremona, Italy. The occasion: the wedding of Francesco Sforza to Bianca Maria Visconti. Featured in the buffet was a sweet made in the shape of the famous tower of Cremona.

The word for tower in Italian is torrione, and it is from this word that the name for the candy, torrone, is derived. Though torrone exists in many varieties and flavors, at the heart of each treat is nutmeats (usually almond or hazelnut), honey, and egg whites.

These days torrone is especially popular as a holiday or winter dessert. Some flavor variations include lemon, orange, and vanilla (limone, arancia, e vaniglia).

From regista [director] Vittorio De Sica, Ladri di biciclette, The Bicycle Thieves, is set in postwar-ravaged 1940s Rome, where Antonio Ricci is fortunate enough to be lotteried a job among the endless stream of unemployed breathren. The job comes on one condition–that he possesses a bicycle. Arguably a bicycle has never meant so much cinematically as it does in this film where a man and his family’s livelihood very pointedly rely upon it. Released to American audiences as The Bicycle Thief (instead of thieves), the title highlights the emphasis of American cinema on the individual as opposed to the Italian emphasis on the collective during this period.

The film is often highlighted as one of the defining films of Italian neorealismo, neorealism. This movement was characterized by stories set among the poor and working class, which were typically filmed on location and frequently utilized unprofessional actors. Other noteworthy films of this movement include De Sica’s Umberto D and Luchino Visconti’s La Terra Trema, The Earth Trembles. The latter was an adaptation of Giovanni Verga’s 1881 novel, I Malavoglia (released in English as The House by the Medlar Tree).

We’re glad you like the videos, and we hope to put out better ones in the future, though we’ll also be making videos addressing other languages.

As you said, “del buono” literally means “of the good.” “Del” is a contraction of di + il. When you wrote “dello” that was a contraction of “di + lo,” but the article “lo” is generally reserved for words that begin in “z” or “s + consonant.” i.e. lo skateboard. Though there is a surname dello buono, so there might also be that phrase. The exact significance we can look into further if you like.

What we can tell you is that:

The meaning changes depending on the use of prepositions and the syntax…

Idiomatically, “buono” can be used in several different ways.

“alla buona” means simply, or without ceremony as in: A casa nostra si mangia alla buona. (At our house we eat simply [informally]). A side note: “alla” is often used to indicate a style or manner of something. For example, the film genre Commedia alla italiana, is often translated as “Comedy, Italian style.”

“un poco di buono” means to be no good as in: Quello ragazzo è un poco di buono (That boy is no good).

So, be careful of prepositions!

“buona” is also used as a slang term to refer to a girl who is deemed ready for sexual intercourse. Ex. Quella ragazza è buona.

If you wanted to describe a man as good you might try generoso (generous), simpatico (charming, nice), or gentile (gentle) or otherwise “brav’uomo” or “buon uomo.”

Show Extras:
Recipe – Pizza Margherita Organica
The True Story of Pasta

From the flier:

“Banda Roncati is an Italian activist street-level brass band that uses music as an interactive and dynamic medium to intervene into social reality.  Founded in Bologna in 1992 through the initiative of a small group of musicians, the band takes its name from its first performance, the peaceful “invasion” of a psychiatric hospital, Clinica Roncati.  In recent years, the band has grown into a group fluctuating between 20 and 30 pieces that include woodwinds, brass, percussion, voices and dance.  One of the distinguishing elements of the band is the unorthodoxy of roles.  There is no director or single composer; the musical arrangements, as well as the repertoire ranging from classical music to jazz, popular dances, political songs, and eighties pop/rock  are collectively decided.”

Attaccare il cappello, literally ”To hang up one’s hat,” is a phrase used of a man who marries a wealthy woman, and (presumably) doesn’t have to work anymore.

Though both spaghetti and meatballs individually have been traditional parts of the Italian diet for years, their unity was actually an invention of Italian-American immigrants. In part I, we explored the origin of pasta in Italy and touched upon the introduction of tomatoes from the New World. Meatball consumption, on the other hand, can be traced further back to the ancient Romans.

Still, bringing together these three in a common dish would not unfold until hundreds of years after Colombus made his maiden voyage across the Atlantic, and the dish, as said, was taken up by immigrants, who opening up restaurants on American shores sought to cook for their non-Italian clientele. The Italian kitchen drew much of its innovation from a scarcity of resources and ingredients, a scarcity that simply was not present in an abundant American society.

It was harder for the American customer to accept that many elements of Italian cooking were traditionally kept separate or in smaller portions. Many of them had also come from countries in northern Europe originally, where there was a distinctly different culinary precedent.

Non-Italians were accustomed to both meat and starch on the same plate, and demanded it from the Italian-American restaurants they frequented, even if this was unheard of and perhaps unorthodox for the Italians.

As a result of such, the large helping of Spaghetti and meatballs with tomato sauce has made its way into American pop culture and eventually back across the Atlantic. All over Rome you’ll find the dish on the tourist menu where it sits well to appease the demands of the American tourist.

For more information on the evolution of the Italian kitchen, google Pellegrino Artusi, the “Father of the Italian Kitchen.” His 1897 writing of La Scienza della Cucina e L’arte di Mangiar Bene (The Science of the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well), would help to create a unified Italian kitchen from the scattered and distinct traditions inherent in the unique geographies and histories of the 20 regions of Italy. (Though you won’t find any mention of Spaghetti with meatballs in there).