"when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore"

And here starts my Europe installment!

Almost a year ago, my World Language Honor Society provided me with the greatest opportunity: the chance to travel to Spain, Italy and France with 15 of my closest friends from high school. My high school offers three languages, Spanish, Italian and French. Since I took Italian since 7^th grade and having both my maternal side and paternal side being from the Italian ancestry, I was especially excited to visit Italy.

It was a miracle that my luggage made it back into the States after my trip, because I got a mug everywhere I went! One of my favorites, for visual and meaningful reasons, is Pisa mug.

When the tour guide was prepping us on the bus ride over, I thought he was being really corny. He told us that the response to seeing the Leaning Tower of Pisa was always the same…”It really does lean.” I remember thinking to myself that that was the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. Obviously it leans; it’s in its name. I swore to myself I wouldn’t think such a silly thought but to my shock I couldn’t help but be surprised when I first saw the tower and think to myself that it ACTUALLY does lean (and so does my mug).

 I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was extremely windy and after we took countless cliché images of holding up the tower, we found the most authentic restaurant and had real Italian pizza.  The mozzarella cheese was fresh and the crust was crispy. I was in heaven! But besides all the fun I had at Pisa, I learned some interesting things too. One architect found a way to fix the tower and return it to its upright position. They represented their project to the Pisa officials, who actually declined the offer. However, the tower was in danger of falling, so the architects agreed to fix it only enough to ensure stability but not enough to straighten it out. The leaning power provides Pisa with all the revenue it needs to keep the city running.

Hey, don’t fix what isn’t broken right? A lesson, I learned at very young age, based on my Italian heritage. Every year from as far back as when my great great grandma Beatrice game over from Italy, the tradition of making our famous Cucciddati cookies (fig cookies) from scratch has came over as well. Every second Sunday of December my big family comes together from all parts of the country, although majority of us are from Long Island, to participate in this tradition I love the best.  Each person is assigned a job on the day of Cookie Day and even before. My family is in charge of grinding the figs with an old-fashioned meat grinder the night before and adding our secret spices to the mix (and yes, I promise it’s not garlic). Each year, when my arms have been sore from churning, I’d complain with all the new technology there must be an easier way, but my father was adamant on doing it the exact same way they did over in Italy. A lesson I learned early in life not to fix what isn’t broken.

So when I’m down on my luck, I use this mug to remind me of the elation I felt being overseas and the importance of both travel and heritage. 

So until next time...

Keep Calm and Carry On

Jo(anna)