I’ve written pretty extensively about my trip to Italy this past summer, where I visited the ancestral towns of 7 of my 8 great-grandparents. However, recently I have been once again looking through my photos to re-live the memories, and I remembered one instance where I felt extremely connected to my Italian roots.
One of my stops on the trip was Sarno, Italy, which is in the region of Campania. This is where 3 of my great-grandparents were from. Growing up, my grandmother always used to tell me about her mother, Maria Paciullo, who immigrated to the United States from Sarno. While I was in Sarno, I was able to find birth and death certificates of my ancestors, which was great, but there was another encounter that confirmed that I had found my Italian roots.
Italian Easter Pie
My grandmother (now 90 years-old) still hosts our entire family every year on Easter Saturday, which she has done for years. One of my favorite dishes that she makes is a pasta pie. It is made of pasta, egg, and pieces of ham. Delizioso. It is a staple in our family, and what makes it such a favorite is that we only have it a few times a year. As much as I love this pie, I never thought it would play such a huge role in connecting with my Italian ancestors, but it did….
Back to Sarno…
When I visited Sarno with my family this past July, I visited the town hall, known as the “comune,” to find my family records. The gentlemen at the counter took my information and told me to come back in 30 minutes. My wife, kids and I took a walk through this little village of Sarno. We stopped in a an Italian deli, or salumeria, as they are called in Italy.
I looked through the different foods behind the glass at the counter, and I saw it: My great-grandmother’s pasta pie. As soon as I saw it, I got goose bumps. Who would imagine, finding the pie I grew up with, in the small village in Italy where my great-grandma Mary Paciullo was from.
It looked exactly the same as the one my grandmother had been making for years. Of course, I asked for a piece, and we walked to the park where I took a bite. It was the one. It tasted exactly the same, as if my grandmother had made it. Unbelievable. While finding paper records and certificates is powerful, tasting my great-grandmother’s pasta pie, a hundred years after she left this small village was even more so. This was the ultimate confirmation that I had found my Italian roots.
So this may not be a typical travel guide or ancestral research recommendation, but if you do visit your ancestral village in Italy, look for the foods that you grew up with.
One bite may bring back more memories than you can imagine….buona, buona, buona…
Anthony Fasano
The Italian American Podcast
Good morning Anthony and Dolores. What a great story and I completely relate. My grandparents are from Ariano (paternal), but my grandmother was born in Genoa, moved to Ariano when young and then immigrated to U.S. around late 1800s. After we visited Italy for our 25th wedding anniversary, and Ashley’s graduation from university, we were so excited to follow NIAFs invitation to gain dual citizenship, and since Ashley was a merit scholar from NIAF thought it would be another way to give back. I vigorously and relentlessly started the arduous process, even though I was working full time teaching college and having a private practice. My cousin and I gathered all of the documents and started calling older relatives.
I have all of the papers because I attempted dual citizenship a few years ago with Rudy D’Agostino, my older cousin, and visited the Newark Consulate before they closed five times over 8 months. Unfortunately, every time I visited, I had the same “bitter” woman who asked me for some new document each time. She seemed vindictive and discouraged us from applying, although I tried repeatedly, spending well over 3,00-4,000 to date. I had everything translated, and brought exactly what she asked for each time. I would get so excited each new visit.
The last time I just gave up, and so has my cousin; sad. I wanted to gain my dual citizenship as respect for my grandparents and ancestors, and because since reuniting with my cousins in Ariano and surrounding areas, it just felt natural and right. My excitement turned to discouragement and sadness, and then the consulate closed in Newark. I saved everything for my daughter Ashley, who may someday make an attempt, but for me, it will not happen. I never shared this with you and Dolores, wanted you to know, in case you hear other stories that are similar from those of us who honor our ancestors, but find road blocks for gaining dual citizenship along the way. Ciao, Dora D’Agostino-Finamore
Salve Dora, Your story makes my heart hurt. I also know what Italian bureaucracy is like and was able to obtain dual citizenship through the intervention of the Vice Consulate in our town. I would like to try and help you if I can so reply to this message and we will see what may happen. Don’t give up! There is always hope!
Bonnie Melielo Eagle River Alaska
Hi Bonnie, Thank you. You are very kind and generous, however, I am not up to the task of fighting the bureaucracy and having to travel to Manhattan at this point. I just wanted others to know in case they had similar problems in NJ when the consulate was open. I am sure Alaska is a different story and am happy to see you now have dual citizenship. Sincerely, Dora
@doradagostinofinamore:disqus thank you so much sharing this story even though in some ways I am sure it is painful. It may help someone else achieve their goal 🙂