Two Worlds

Gathering family around the table is an universal tradition, but the Italians make an art of it. © Photo by Francesca Di Meglio

There is an art to setting the table. Different cultures have different ways of doing it. The Japanese, for instance, might have you sit on cushions on the floor. Americans put forks and spoons on the left and knives on the right, and our drinking glasses are way bigger than others. Everyone wants to make a statement with his table when hosting a dinner party at home. But Italians simply do it better.

Entertaining is as natural to southern Italians as breathing. Their lives revolve around food and family, and their homes, much like their hearts, are always open. Recently, my cousin Fausto set a table for his parents, our Australian cousin Vanessa, and me, at his family’s home in Ischia, Italy, the island where I’m staying for the next month or so. (For photos, visit “Fausto’s Tablescape” photo album.) Here are some tips I picked up by observing Fausto’s tablescape -

1. Make the most of nature. Fausto used pink flowers from his parent’s garden to spruce up the table, which was set outdoors on a patio. He used these flowers to surround two candles on either end of the oblong table. He also wrapped coral tea roses, also from the garden, in large green leaves and left one at the seat of each of the women in attendance.

2. Keep things simple for a casual night with family. Rather than pull out expensive, fancy china and silverware, Fausto used his mom’s everyday dishes and glasses and paper napkins.

3. Food is as much apart of the tablescape as anything else. Fausto and his parents were sure to beautifully plate our various courses. For instance he put a chunk of grilled bread smothered in calamari with red sauce on the center of one plate and sprinkled chopped fresh parsley on top. The food (as you’ll see in the photo album) looked like another piece of art on the table. It also happened to be delicious, a bonus.

4. Your guests are the most important part of the dinner party. Fausto and family were entertaining, too. They always are gracious, and keep the conversation moving. Of course, they like to have fun. Fausto put additional flowers in our hair — and his own — so we could take funny pictures to send to our relatives around the world (in the United States, France, and Australia).

My Jersey girls are sweet and smart. © Photo by Francesca Di Meglio

Last night, episode two of MTV’s reality series Jersey Shore aired. While everyone is tuning into see what Snooki and the Situation will do next, I’m thinking about my Jersey people, specifically the girls. Most of my Jersey girls are in the photo above, and they will never grow into a JWow. Yes, they are strong and they can fist pump on the dance floor with the best of them. But they are respectable ladies, who already speak more eloquently than anyone on the Jersey Shore. They will use their words before their fists (except occassionally with their own siblings, which they are working on) to resolve conflicts.

They are Italian Americans with a great sense of pride, and they probably don’t even know the meaning of the term guido. But they do know how good Nonna’s pasta sauce is on Sunday and how to say, “Buona notte,” to their elders. When they go down the shore, they play on the beach, build a sand castle, visit the acquarium, and go on the Boardwalk rides. My Jersey girls, even if all of them are 12 and under, already have brains that are bigger than Snooki’s hair poof. And I’m certain they are going to do more with their lives than become a reality star. That is truly Jersey of them.

French cousins Jean Franck and Anne (front l. to r.) pose with Pasquale, Grandma, and Regina (back l. to r.). © Photo by Francesca Di Meglio

My family is like its own United Nations. We have relatives in the United States, Italy, Canada, Australia, France, and Argentina. I have friends who barely know their cousins who live a few towns over, meanwhile I can say that I know a lot of the relatives in these other countries — and I know many of them pretty well. We’ve visited each other’s countries, met up in Italy (the ancestral home base), and stay connected with letters, phone, e-mail, Facebook, and Skype. It’s pretty special if you ask me.

In the last week, some of our cousins from France made a stop in the States on their way to a Quebec vacation. Since I work from home during the week, they were kind enough to travel from Long Island to New Jersey to see me. They brought my grandmother — and a GPS — to boot. They made their way here despite the inevitable traffic and without getting lost. I was able to have lunch and catch up with them despite the work week. For this, I’m grateful.

Having relatives from all over the world is a lesson in culture. I’m always having to keep track of how to kiss the relative in question. The Americans want one kiss on the cheek, and men never kiss each other; they give each other handshakes. The Italians demand two kisses, one on each cheek, and the men kiss each other, too. The French expect three kisses, alternating cheeks as you go. Men kiss each other in France, too. I’m always fumbling and giving the Italians three kisses or pulling away after one. I guess they just all think I’m a kissing fool.

Cousins (top l. to r.) Amanda, Tommasina, Antonio, Amy, and (bottom l. to r.) Marissa, Ali, and Nina celebrate 10. © Photo by Francesca Di Meglio

Early June is an exciting time for the Di Meglio family. We have two special birthdays to celebrate — those of Ali, who just turned 10, and Marissa, who just turned six. I still remember back when I was 10 and six. Those were good times and milestone birthdays. Ten meant double digits and the sense that you would soon be a teenager. In fact, the 10 year olds in our family have all matured. They have real conversations with you now. And they dress better than I do. They are mature and fun and growing up. Ali, for instance, can call me from her own cell phone now. I’m in her address book. Seriously, she’s a sweet, caring, mini adult. (To join the party, visit “Ali’s 10th Birthday Party” photo album.) We’re so proud of you, Ali!

Six is a big deal because when you’re five, you can still pass for the family baby. Kindergarten is a precursor to real school — the kind that is stressful and competitive and not at all about snack time, naps, and playing. And kindergarten is pretty much over for Marissa. Just a couple weeks left. Even though Marissa is still a snuggler who I can carry around on my hip, she’s truly a big girl now. At 6, Marissa is a little lady with the kindest of hearts. Ali and Marissa, we love you. Happy, happy birthday!

Amy smiles brightly at her First Communion. © Photo by Francesca Di Meglio

Yesterday was a proud day for my family. My Goddaughter and cousin Amy made her First Communion — and she looked like the perfect little bride. When she took the Host, which represents the body of Christ in the Catholic religion, our hearts swelled with love and joy. The best part? The girl who didn’t want to wear a dress because they were all “too itchy” dressed like a girlie-girl, loved her flowers, and smiled brightly all day long. You can see for yourself by viewing the “Amy’s First Communion” photo album. I made Amy’s bouquet, which will probably make an appearance in Wednesday’s blog on the About.com Newlyweds site, so keep an eye out for that. In the meantime, I think we should all give Amy a round of applause for reaching this milestone and doing it all with such class and maturity. Jesus loves her — and so do we!

Damiano and his friends lounge in the thermal pool at Negombo in Ischia, Italy. © Photo by Francesca Di Meglio

Anyone who knows my cousin Damiano knows that he brings new meaning to the term character. As a two-year-old, he was best known for hosing down his aunt as she would leave for work, nearly setting my brother’s hair on fire, and talking like a sailor. He has since grown into a responsible young adult with a promising future. But he still has his adventures.

Of course, with Damiano, you never know what might happen. On their way from London, where he and his friends have been training for their first job out of college (in a bank), they accidentally got off the boat one stop too soon and landed in Procida, a completely different island. They somehow managed to get to Ischia in the wee hours of the morning, but no one let Damiano live down his mistake. (See the photo album “Damiano and Friends in Ischia“.)

When I first heard that Damiano would be spending a weekend in Ischia with his new friends, I immediately started planning a dream weekend for them. The young men, all of whom recently graduated college, were wiped out and needed some R and R. My first thought was to bring them to one of Ischia’s thermal pool parks and the other was to lounge on the beach. We managed to do both and taste some of Ischia’s delicious offerings, including pizza, seafood, pastries (baba’ indeed), and gelato. All in all, we had a delicious weekend that I hope the boys will fondly remember for years to come.

I’m grateful because it was a lot of fun for me, too — and they treated me to dinner one night, gelato, and a new set of espresso cups for Antonio’s Italian kitchen. It was far too generous, and we definitely owe them another meal at our American home when we get back to New Jersey sometime in the fall. Grazie mille, boys!

Cousins gather in Ischia, Italy during the height of tourism season in August. © Photo by Francesca Di Meglio

The people of Ischia are sighing with relief because the month of August is swiftly coming to an end. For Ischitani, August means work because the rest of the country heads to the beaches and mountains for vacation. That’s right. Just about the whole country, except for those who work in tourism like most of the Ischitani, have at least a few weeks off in August if not the whole month. If you can’t take off in August for some reason, then you usually get to take time off in July. Unbelievable, right? As an American, who barely gets two weeks of vacation per year, I can’t fathom how Italians can ever get work done with all their vacation time. How can the country earn anything if everyone takes off for the whole month at the same time? I guess that’s what “la dolce vita” means.

For me, August in Ischia wasn’t much different than June or July in Ischia. I work for American publications, and therefore I’m always on call and on the job. But I did get to see more of my relatives in my down time. One cousin, who lives in France but married a woman from Ischia, spent a couple of weeks on the island — and we all got together to break bread one night at another cousin’s restaurant (see photo above). And cousins from Australia and the United States are headed to Ischia at the end of the week for a long weekend that will have us all bidding farewell to yet another August in Italy.

I think Ischia, perhaps myself included, will need a vacation to recuperate after the August summer vacation.