I love to cook. I love to garden. I grew up first generation Italian in New York City. Both my parents and my maternal grandparents relocated from Reggio Calabria which is in southern Italy to New York City after WWII. Both mom and dad’s families were peasant farmers for generations in the region of Italy, which overlooked the Strait of Messina. My mother is an extraordinary cook and so was my maternal grandmother. So, genetically, I lucked out—I got the cooking and gardening genes.
My grandfather “Nonno” Andrea carried the gardening gene. As Nonno tended to his tomatoes and basil in pots on a fire escape on West Fourth Street in Greenwich Village, I was in awe. How was it possible that the most delicious tomatoes and fragrant basil could grow on a fire escape, in a five-story walk up in Manhattan? Nonno was well known in Greenwich Village, he had a produce store on Cornelia Street for many years. As my grandfather tended to business, I would be out with “Nonna” Maria shopping for the daily meal. Nonna was very particular about food so I have her to blame for my "Italian genetic food disorder" as I call it.
Nonno at his produce store on Cornelia Street, New York City, @1958.
My memories are vivid. We would get the basic groceries on West 4th Street first. The store Brignoli, was owned by two very tiny sisters who needed to get a stick and claw to reach the top shelves. Then we would get the most delicious cupcakes and bread at Zampieri bakery on Cornelia Street. We would head up to Bleecker Street and she would go to the salumeria run by a man who came from the Bagnara area of Italy, near my grandmother’s village. She would torture him as she asked each time if everything was fresh. There was Faicco’s Pork store as well. From there we would visit another bakery Zito’s for a different type of Italian bread. Of course, we needed two kinds. It was urban lore that Frank Sinatra had his bread delivered to California from Zito’s. We would also pick up a cake at Rocco’s Pastry Shop, my favorite was a rum apricot crumble which they still make today and last stop was the butcher on Jones Street. We would come home and I would watch her make these incredibly delicious meals with the most simple of ingredients. I would always watch an observe nonna cook; she was my inspiration.
Time moves in strange ways and takes you in directions, which no one can predict, except a sunflower. The Italian word for sunflower is girasoli, the literal translation is turn towards the sun and they always do.
After 30 years, I did just that. I turned towards the sun to find myself living in a sleepy, quaint, dreamy little town outside of San Francisco. In 1995, we purchased our dream property. I dare not say house, because it was a fixer upper but it was on an acre of land, in one of those unusual San Francisco micro climates that you read about, but don’t believe they exist until you witness it yourself. Jim, my husband and I, and our two-year-old son moved into the “dump” and a few years later our daughter was born. We have been fixing it up ever since.
Year, after year, I would chisel away with my shovel at a piece of land covered with weeds and brush and began the connection with the land. Fourteen years later, we now have an incredible edible and flower garden. I love fruit bearing trees so I planted Santa Rosa plums, Fuji apples, Bartlett pears, French plums, seckle pears and fig trees. I just love the simple concept of growing what you eat. I had seen the benefit of eating fresh and healthy on my children as they an their friends snacked on sugar peas straight from the garden. I wanted to share my passion for gardening with our community. A few years ago, I spearheaded a revitalization campaign at our local elementary public school children’s garden. The garden had been neglected for years due to loss of funding. The weeds were wild and rampant on this 1/3 acre of land. We had the land, we had no money but we had the passion. It took 18 months but it now is an extraordinary magical place where children plant and eat what they grow. Both the children and garden are thriving. I was featured on a local TV channel and in the San Francisco Chronicle for my work in creating an edible public school garden. Parents constantly thank me for my work in creating this wonderful outdoor children’s classroom. I call it a “textbook come to life.”
So out here in California we are fortunate to grow various vegetables pretty much year round and we eat what we grow; a pretty simple concept which has been in our family for generations. Now, my children seem to have the “genes” and I can see they formed a connection to the land and to the food. I think Nonno and Nonna would have been proud.
I hope you enjoy learning about the joy and simplicity of food and gardening. And, I hope that I can inspire you a little bit like my grandparents inspired me.
In peace and hope for the future of our children,
Lee
