famiglia

Joseph Francis Periale, c. 1946 My father used to tease my mother that when her British ancestors were “still painted blue and swinging from the trees” his Roman ones were “conquering and ruling the world.” This could bring on laughs or arguments, depending on the general mood of the day. But I can still feel split down the middle, a living culture clash. There are certain days when I’m all Italian: rich, exotic, earthy; and days when my Anglo-amalgam of British, Scottish, Irish, Welsh and a smidgen of Dutch will flatten others in its wake. I am trying to sort through the various bits and pieces of anecdotes and histories to unite those differing factions within myself. There are so many stories to tell about my family. Should I try to go as far back as I can—which is pretty far—on my mother’s side? My mother says that we can trace her ancestors back to Alfred the Great and William the Conqueror . Unfortunately there is a gap of about one hundred years missing in the 15th century,

Joseph Francis Periale and Mary Elizabeth Winship, Gotham Hotel, New York City, November 11, 1961 I want to also tell about my father Joseph Francis Periale’s family, a large Italian clan which welcomed my beautiful WASP mother with open arms. Years later, when my mother left my father, his entire family was wounded. It was the first divorce in the family. After my father’s death, she finally returned, again to open arms, while attending my brother John James’s wedding. Maybe it could have happened earlier, but the timing was finally right. Elizabeth Anne Periale & Gertrude D'Ippolito, c. 1967, Wall Township, N.J. As a child it was easiest for me to slip into the Italian persona. I had the hard-to-pronounce last name, and a fairly large, very voluble accompanying family that were only too glad to share their memories and stories. My grandmother, Gertrude D’Ippolito Periale , an amazing cook, would gather us all together and feed us family delicacies and cuisine that I

CW: Joseph Francis Periale, John James Periale, Elizabeth Anne Periale, c.1967, en route to Mystic, CT. In an Italian-American family most of the action takes place around the dinner table. Depending on the layout of your home the table may be in the kitchen, dining room or both. A typical dinner table family scene: one person would start to tell a story while the coffee pot was being passed around the table after dinner. Everyone would react, editing and arguing, while wondering what would be served for dessert. As a child I got to see and learn a lot. About my family, about human behavior. And if I sat quietly enough, the grown-ups would forget I was sitting there and tell the juicier versions, while John James and I tried to understand the punchlines of the jokes! At my Uncle John Massimo’s house the food was served to us practically before we walked in the door. We would be hustled to the kitchen table and immediately offered a seat, where we would listen to and trade stories

14th Street, c. 1976, NewYork, N.Y. Don Peppino would also make a delicious sun-dried tomato sauce in the summer on the roof of their apartment building on 14th Street . He would take the center section of a barrel and stretch a fine mesh screen over the top. He would then set ripe tomatoes on the screen to dry for hours in the sun. When the tomatoes were ready, he would mash the tomatoes, pressing them through the mesh of the screen. The sauce would drip into the large pot he had set below his homemade sieve/drying rack. What a nice way to spend a fine sunny New York City day—Don Peppino and Giovanna (or Giovannina, as he sometimes called her) out on the roof with their grandchildren playing nearby. Giovanna was quite a cook in her own right. The family differs (argues?) on where Giovanna was born, convinced they heard she was from: Cousin Judith: Albania Aunt Paula: Malta Uncle Jim: Grecia Romana Mom: Magna Grecia The most frequent place that is mentioned is Piana dei G

Gertrude D'Ippolito, c. 1920 Gertrude told stories about her parents, the D’Ippolitos, and her childhood. Was it true that Gertrude wanted to be an opera singer but her father, Giuseppe D’Ippolito, called Don Peppino, wouldn’t let her? Yes. He was an old-world gentleman. He didn’t think such a career was dignified or proper for a young girl. At least that is how I first heard the story, but there is another version: Gertrude gave up singing lessons because of her fresh piano teacher... Gertrude & Giuseppe (Don Peppino) D'Ippolito, c. 1920 opera libretto Aunt Paula, John Massimo’s and Joseph’s younger sister, heard another version: Gertrude took singing lessons. She was apparently so good and had such a range that at one of these lessons after hitting all the high notes, her teacher was overcome by her talent and grabbed her and kissed her on both cheeks and embraced her. She was horribly embarrassed and went home and told her parents. Don Peppino told her that she