My Italian Roots, Part II

Part of growing up in the Burg was the fractured Italian I heard.  Italian spoken in the south is different from the “pure” Italian spoken now in Italy or taught in high school and college.  My Mom spoke Calabrian and the Lumias spoke Sicilian. They are different languages and Mom reported that she had a difficult time understanding Sicilian at first.

My brother took Italian in high school.  In those days, Trenton High School offered 3 years of Latin, 3 of French, and 2 each of German, Italian, and Spanish.  Peter was delighted to have learned to say, “My dear, Father” in Italian and tried it on Dad.  Unfortunately, what he said was, “You big fool” in Sicilian and Dad was not pleased.

Here is a partial list of words and phrases I heard growing up that are distinctly in a southern Italian dialect or immigrant speak and not good Italian:

• Guma’ and Gumba’:  This is dialect for Godmother and Godfather. However, it was also used between the two godparents.   The godfather was Gumba to the Godmother and she was Guma.  Their nuclear families also used these terms of respect.
• Ganewell:  I learned later when I saw “cannoli” written in a menu that the two words referred to the same pastry.  One could go to any bakery in the Burg, ask for a ganewell and get a cannoli.
• Gavone:  a pejorative way of describing anyone who is clueless about manners, etc.  My mother said it indicated being a “greenhorn”, someone who does not know very much, particularly about their situation, surroundings, or new country.
• Cream Cheese:  Italian Americans did not know about the soft white cheese spread on bagels.  If one went to the corner Deli and asked for cream cheese one got sliced American cheese.
• By-Joe:  To everyone in the Burg, this was the name of the movie house on South Clinton Avenue.  Who knew that it was French? (Bijou).  I confirmed the universality of “By-joe” with the late Father Joe Ferrante who grew up in the burg.
• American Bread vs. Italian Bread:  American bread was that soft, gummy, white stuff used only for sandwiches.  Italian bread was crusty, a combination of crisp and soft and the crust usually had sesame seeds.  My Mom had 2 toasters:  one for American bread and one for Italian bread.  Italian bread was usually cut thicker and could not fit into a pop-up toaster.
• Mitigan:  The word was a somewhat pejorative way to refer to Americans or non-Italians.  Certain foods and people were Mitigan. 
• Gabagoul:  an Italian lunch meat that could be hot and spicy or mild, like salami.
• Smearcase:  This is not Italian dialect but referred to ricotta
• Luminjon:  Mom did not call eggplant melanzano, the Italian word for it.  Where her word originated, I do not know.
• Ice-box.  Mom usually called the refrigerator, the” ice box” for obvious reasons.  My children decided that ice box was Italian for refrigerator.

In the Burg, most shop owners spoke Italian.  Many of their customers spoke broken English or only Italian.  The shop keepers were also Italian so language was no problem.  There were all types of specialty stores in the Burg and one could be very selective where one purchased specific items.  People’s Bakery made the best bread and still does.  Barbero’s bread was not as good in my family.  But, pastries were purchased at Landolfi’s on the other side of Hudson Street.  That meant at least 2 stops on Butler Street.  One stop shopping was for Mitigans who didn’t know better. 
Produce came from the “Boys”.  Nunzio Pagano owned a grocery store on Roebling Avenue.  His sons took over at some time.  Though they were in their 40’s and 50’s, they were still the “Boys.”  In the back of their store was a butcher.  He had the best meat in the area.  In those days, one could get specialty items without difficulty.  He would sell veal kidneys, which I love and had for Saturday lunch or sometimes he had veal chops with kidney still attached, a real treat.  Mom would buy veal cutlet and fry it up so that we all had veal cutlet sandwiches for lunch.  Peter would not eat veal cutlet.  He actually told my mother that the breading hid a poor quality of meat!  Next to this store was a full baci court.

There was a fish market on Roebling and later another on Emory.  The one on Roebling was owned by friends of my mother.  I don’t remember if she was in their wedding party or if she was in a wedding with one of them    Mom bought her Christmas Eve fish there, including eels!
The butcher had ok lunch meat but the deli on Roebling and Chambers was much better.  That’s where we bought all the Italian lunch meats:  salami, cheese, roast pork, ham, etc.  It was owned by a brother and sister and their spouses and they did much of their own preparation (Leon and Paul’s). 

On my way to school each day I passed several saloons.  Some of them offered simple meals but most were just bars.  Later, when the Burg became a restaurant haven, these bars became fancy restaurants providing great food.

Milk was delivered to our door.  Our initial milkman was my godfather, John Favata.  Sometime after he retired, my Uncle Sammy took over the route.  Whenever he knew that my nephews were visiting, he left chocolate milk for them.  We also had an egg man, Setemio, who delivered eggs every Saturday.   When I was very young there was a rag man driving a horse drawn cart who came through the neighborhood and occasionally someone selling produce, also on a horse drawn cart.  In the summer we went to the Farmer’s Market which was initially on the Fitch Way before moving to Spruce Street.  The Market was the source of tomatoes, peaches, peppers, etc., particularly in the days when my parents still canned a great deal.

Shopping therefore would take quite a while, visiting several stores to stock up for the week.