A Pazzaria! (cont'd)
After we visited awhile, Minuce took us to see his cousin, the only remaining Palazzo in Presenzano. Her name is Carmella. You can see the family resemblance. Her father, Minuce's mother and my grandfather Domenic were siblings. She lives at a crossroads that leads to a nearby town, Caianello. She owns a building with an apartment on top and a BBQ restaurant below that she rents out. (We were surprised they had BBQ in Italy. They were surprised that we were surprised.)
Carmella and Minuce grew up at this crossroads. My Uncle Pete said Domenic used to live in the castle on top of the hill when he was a boy (it's now in ruins), but they don't know whether it's true. As far back as they can remember, the family was here at the crossroads.
There is some mystery about where the family originated. The father of the clan, my great-grandfather Pietro, was a railroad man who got posted in Presenzano after my grandfather Domenic, the oldest child, was already born in a town called Sant' Agapito about 40 kilometers away. The other siblings were born in Presenzano. Need to do more research.
The kids liked Minuce. Alex wouldn't eat anything, even the food we brought, so Minuce tried to give him some cake. He wouldn't eat it. Then he walked Alex over to the grocery store to get him some ice cream, but they were out. Max can better appreciate the significance of the pilgrimage, did his best to bridge the language barrier and genuinely enjoyed getting to know his older relatives.
Two days later we stopped by again after visiting Sorrento. Minuce and Giovanna had some ice cream cake waiting for Alex. He ate the ice cream part of it. (By the way, Alex broke from his cheese-pizza diet only to eat a bacon omelet, French fries and filet mignon.) We said our good-byes and hit the road. We learned a little bit about our roots and thanks to Minuce, we learned a bit more Italian, including a special word from the family lexicon. Since then, every time something funny happens to us, Max says: 'A pazzaria.'
Carmella and Minuce grew up at this crossroads. My Uncle Pete said Domenic used to live in the castle on top of the hill when he was a boy (it's now in ruins), but they don't know whether it's true. As far back as they can remember, the family was here at the crossroads.
There is some mystery about where the family originated. The father of the clan, my great-grandfather Pietro, was a railroad man who got posted in Presenzano after my grandfather Domenic, the oldest child, was already born in a town called Sant' Agapito about 40 kilometers away. The other siblings were born in Presenzano. Need to do more research.
The kids liked Minuce. Alex wouldn't eat anything, even the food we brought, so Minuce tried to give him some cake. He wouldn't eat it. Then he walked Alex over to the grocery store to get him some ice cream, but they were out. Max can better appreciate the significance of the pilgrimage, did his best to bridge the language barrier and genuinely enjoyed getting to know his older relatives.
Two days later we stopped by again after visiting Sorrento. Minuce and Giovanna had some ice cream cake waiting for Alex. He ate the ice cream part of it. (By the way, Alex broke from his cheese-pizza diet only to eat a bacon omelet, French fries and filet mignon.) We said our good-byes and hit the road. We learned a little bit about our roots and thanks to Minuce, we learned a bit more Italian, including a special word from the family lexicon. Since then, every time something funny happens to us, Max says: 'A pazzaria.'
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