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Italian American Life - Frank Di Piero - Buon Natale

Margherita Ganeri, Director of the Italian Diaspora Studies Seminar at the Unviersity of Calabria. View the website: Click Here & email: [email protected]

Recorded: November 8, 2025

Running Time: 31 minutes 22 seconds

Buon Anno Nuovo da Salerno, Italia - Antonia Sparano - Salerno Walking Tours

Ciao a tutti! Happy New Year!

ANCIENT HISTORY Well, I’m finally back with the intention of continuing my Big Fat Blogs about life in Southern Italy. Like many others, life came to a slow stop after COVID hit in 2020. Instead, I focused on various healthy YouTube videos for exercise and spiritual growth. But nothing inspired me to write a blog.

Most of my previous blogs were travel-oriented or observations as an expat in Salerno. Since then, I’ve traveled extensively across Northern Europe, Portugal, and as far south as the island nation of Malta, Croatia to the east, the U.K., Ireland, Switzerland, France, San Marino, and, of course, the entire country of Italy. In 2023, I spent an average of six months out of the year doing what I love most- traveling! I’d traveled to Italy many times before the move here and always felt so comfortable, like I really belonged, not like in the rambling city of Los Angeles, where I lived for many years. But vacations have a strange way of altering reality. For a number of reasons, I ended up in a small town and have gotten comfortable, for better or for worse. Here’s (most of) my up-to-date story 😀 

THE OPPOSITE OF LA DOLCE VITA…FROM MY REGIONAL PERSPECTIVE But enough of the fun stuff. Let’s backtrack for a moment. I moved to Salerno in March of 2019, feeling buoyed by my friends’ supportive comments like ‘you’re so brave! I could never have done that !’ But moving was the easy part. There’s a dark side to living in Italy that was so unexpected. I knew I would miss my friends, but I thought I would make new ones quickly because I’m very outgoing, and I thought I spoke enough Italian to navigate my way around town and maybe make some friends in the local yoga studio. Wrong. I did not acclimate as quickly as I thought I would. Actually, I never thought I would have problems acclimating because I’m Italian on both sides of my family, so it’s already in my blood, right? Wrong again. Where I did make friends initially was in the language school here in town, but the downside of that is those same friends were only here for a week or two (on a language study vacation) and returned to their home countries, leaving me with separation anxiety. We shared meals, homework, and some cultural adventures through the school, and then in a flash, it was over. REALITY I tried so hard to connect with the locals, but for a couple of good reasons, it just wasn’t happening. The most important reason was that my Italian was just not good enough to sustain a conversation beyond the weather and their favorite restaurant. When I put myself in their gorgeous Italian shoes, I realized that perhaps they just didn’t have the patience to speak with me in Italian with all the mixed-up verb tenses. ( This is what I told myself.) BUT…NEWS FLASH. I’ve read and heard about this many times over the years and refused to believe that it could be true, (especially because I’m so fabulous-hahaha) but the Italians who are not well traveled or who have not lived abroad, or who live in smaller cities were not open in the least to having a new friend who was a ‘stranieri’, a foreigner, an outsider. Their friends went back as far as kindergarten, maybe from the same building they currently lived in, through university, and beyond. And they have no room or reason for a new friend. It has been virtually impossible to break through that glass ceiling. There’s little curiosity beyond where I was born and lived before I came here. Many of my friends in the expat group have related the same stories.

MY PEOPLE I will have my seventh year anniversary on March 1st of this year, never thinking I would stay longer than three months, which was the length of my visa, until I finally received my dual citizenship. We have a great group of expats from the U.S., U.K., Austria, Japan, Australia, Ireland, and a few from Italy who like to practice their English. It took five years to round up a good group like them. They’ve saved me from the loneliness that can accompany moving to a foreign country.

I bring this up because it is an incredibly important aspect if you’re looking to settle into a new country. That said, my friends who came here with a partner may not have felt the rejection as much as a single woman. YOU NEED TO LEARN THE LANGUAGE. There’s discrimination here on many levels. (If they hear American accents, get ready for an inflated price.) Many stores and local coffee bars do not have prices listed, so we can get charged different prices depending on the mood of the owner, not all owners, but definitely many. No matter how good I think my Italian pronunciation is, the minute I open my mouth with ‘quanto costa’, I can assume it’s going to be more than a local’s price. In fact, I’ve had certain shopkeepers totally ignore me until I happened to mention that I live here and I’m a citizen. Apparently, they don’t want to spend time on shoppers who might be on vacation…again, not just my experience.

Honestly, I grumbled to anyone who would listen about all the annoying things I encountered in southern Italy for about 6 years, and then it changed. Here’s a quick list of the dark side in no particular order:

-Rudeness of people on the streets, sidewalks, and stores ( evidently, customer service was not in any training manual). Granted, the salaries are low in Italy, but the use of common courtesies, mostly in government or hospital offices, is non-existent ( mostly, but not all) -Trying to find, get, and keep a handyman, plumber, etc, to come to your house. Making an appointment is a waste of time because they rarely show up. Make as many calls/ texts as you want, but rolling your eyes won’t get them there any faster. This is where PATIENCE becomes a virtue. -The big highways have better roads than the streets in a smaller city/town. Same for sidewalks. Don’t look up or you might fall and twist an ankle! So many holes and uneven pavements. No country for older people with mobility issues. Also, no safety rails or general handrails on many staircases, interior or exterior. The cobblestones become so painful from walking several thousand steps a day unless you have great, comfortable rubber-soled shoes. -Behind the stunning scenery all over southern Italy lie side roads with illegal dumping everywhere. What an eyesore, not to mention a potential hygienic problem for people with respiratory issues. My local streets are missing trash receptacles, which explains the trash thrown in every direction. I’m actually embarrassed to have friends visit because of the dirty streets. -Another myth…. Gorgeous weather year-round. Because I live at the southern end of the Amalfi Coast, it's assumed we have hot, sunny beach weather year-round. I’m writing this in January, and this morning we had a thunderstorm that brought hail and damp, super-cold temperatures. Salerno is on the coast, and I live about two blocks from Il mare, which means the wind is colder and damper than the areas further inland. But, as it is said, there’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothes. Same for the summer heat and humidity. Accept it or escape it! There’s so much more I could share, but I don’t want to scare everyone away. Plus, I did mention several other annoyances in a previous blog. Yes, I know these complaints are so minimal in the scheme of life, considering all of the horrible stories on the news every day, and I do keep it in perspective. Also, I want to spare you the hassle of finding out on your own. My advice is to come here for three months and see how you feel. Really experience day-to-day life.

HUMBLED IN EVERY WAY

To be fair to my beautiful ancestral homeland, I needed to make some changes in my own attitude. As I cleared out the last of my things in storage in L.A. last summer, I had an epiphany. The realization is that nowhere is perfect. Italy has some monumental ( no pun intended) problems that may not be resolved in my lifetime. But it is a country of wonder, with beautiful ruins from the mysterious canals of Venice to the elegant town of Taormina in Sicily. So, as I sealed the third and last box for shipment to Italy, I resolved to get serious and improve my Italian, once and for all. I’ll never be fluent, I’ll never be ‘one of them,’ and I may never get the humor in the theaters and films. But I've resumed my private lessons in Italian, I’ve been watching more Netflix in Italian, have re-joined my Italian conversation group, and will start an online group lesson with Italki. Also, I’m embracing the cultural differences and the illogical logic of why things don’t work the way they should. Good for a start. I already feel more connected and confident when I get my coffee, making small talk, and even getting a little smile out of my favorite grumpy barista.

WILL SHE OR WON’T SHE?

Will I buy a house here? No way. I’m a single woman and don’t own a tool belt. Get my license and buy a car- no, thank you…love the trains. Start some kind of design business - no, grazie! And why, you ask. The insane, illogical bureaucracy. Will I move back to the States at some point? It’s not in my plan. But I’ve learned to never say never. I like going to Venice for a long weekend during Christmas and seeing the gondolas decorated. I like visiting my cousins in southern Germany for the Christmas markets. I like taking a train to Rome for an hour and a half to see a great museum exhibit, have lunch, and come home, thinking how lucky I am.

Let me know if I can answer any questions you may have about moving here, or if I can write on a topic of interest to you. I hope this has been informative and helpful. Best wishes to you all for a beautiful 2026. Safe travels!

To book a tour contact me on Facebook - Salerno Walking Tours

Check out Ed’s blog - edwrites.net 

Bread Makes a Life

Look someone in the eye and say, "Ain't bread great."

Ed Iannuccilli

Jan 12, 2026

I held the warm loaf close to my chest.

As Diane and I strolled through the piazza in Todi, Italy, on a brisk October morning, I smelled the aroma of bread wafting from the bakery. I entered and was comforted. A bakery can do that. I spotted them: two large oval loaves; you know, the crusty Tuscan ones with the subtle aroma and sweet clouds of magnetism that snare you.

Traditional Tuscan bread, pane Toscano. is distinctive. It contains no salt - a tradition dating back to the Middle Ages, likely originating from either a salt tax dispute or a blockade that made salt scarce in the region.

“Prego,” said the baker.

“Due.” I pointed.

As we strolled into the square, the bread was huggable. We held the loaves closely. The warmth entered our bodies. “This feels so good.”

Now warmed by its company, it was time to rip un pezzo da mangiare. I ripped off a piece. Who could resist? The bread had a dense, chewy texture with a thick, crunchy crust. We were in bread heaven, experiencing the truth of Italy.

We took it further, one day stopping at the best local ‘deli’ for a freshly baked ciabatta infused with olive oil and layered with prosciutto, tomato, basil, and salt. Or maybe just a simple mortadella and bread combo with no extras.

When I was a kid, Italian bread was the staple of every Sunday dinner. It went with the salad, but some used it per fare una scarpetta; to scoop up the pasta sauce with the heel. Bread with pasta? C’mon. Well, OK.

Or make a small meatball sandwich.

Recently, when I was dipping the heel of my Italian bread in the gravy, I recalled the days when I stood by my grandmother’s side as she was making “her” gravy for the Sunday pasta. (Gravy makers are possessive). On tiptoes and shifting my weight, I looked up at her, then at the gravy when she said, “Itsa OK now to dunka you bread.” And that I did, with anticipation and haste.

I swiped my corner through the gravy, watched the steam swirl, blew on it, and finally bit in. Warm and tasty, it softened even more before I swallowed. I would later enjoy that same wholesome taste over pasta at our Sunday dinner. In later years, I remember dipping a corner of Italian bread into hot coffee. I loved bread.

My other memory was of coming home from school, entering Grandma’s tenement, pausing to smell her cooking, and asking, “Grandma, can we have some bread and oil?”

She cut a slice of Italian bread, poured olive oil, then a pinch of salt, a morsel of pepper, not much, and off we went, munching, oil spilling down our chins. I can taste it now. In fact, I’m going for some.

It wasn’t just Italian bread in my life. I also grew up on white bread, as in Tip Top and Wonder Bread, the one that “helped build strong bodies in eight ways.” That’s what Mom gave me for lunch: baloney jammed between two slices and loaded with French’s mustard. She was in a hurry, heading to work.

Bread and butter were a great after-school snack. And morning toast with butter and jam often supplanted the snap, crackle, and pop of those Rice Crispies guys. No wonder the phrase “It’s the greatest thing since sliced bread.” It’s the way to show enthusiasm and appreciation for something or someone.

Grilled cheese held an important childhood memory.

Bakers now make several varieties of shapes and tastes. In the grocery store alone, I can find Italian, French, Irish (love soda bread), sourdough, rye, wheat, cinnamon raisin, gluten-free (necessary, eh?), and multigrain loaves. Wonder Bread is still around.

But it is the simple Italian loaf that summons me. Nothing is as alluring as the bread in the lovely, southern town of Altamura, Italy.

There, the loaves, weighing about half a kilo, have the usual crisp dark crust. Aromas of hazelnut, coffee, and vanilla arise from its warmth. Doughy when chewed, a slice of toasted bread seasoned with sea salt, Apulian oil, and a hint of rubbed garlic is a step away from bread heaven.

In 37 B.C., the Roman lyric poet, Horace, called Altamura bread the best in the world.

Horace says . . . “hard work, simple food, and plain but unstinting living are best."

No matter the era, bread is that satisfying something that should be an integral part of every day. It is mine.

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I asked my Italian professor what bread she remembered from her youth in Naples, Italy.

“Sfilatino,” she was quick to respond. “It is a long, narrow bread with a crunchy crust, chewy inside, perfect for stuffing with prosciutto, cheeses, or other fillings to make a nice panino.”

Ah, bread. Bread seems like that common thing that everybody can agree on. It lights up memories. It gives meaning to the day.

Whether or not your company is good, if a basket of bread comes out, put down your devices, pick up a piece, make eye contact, and say, “Ain’t bread just the best?”

© 2026

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 🇮🇹Stuffed Peppers!

Dorina

When I was a kid, my Nonna used to stuff everything! It was always with her same breadcrumb “concoction”. It was her homemade breadcrumbs, garlic, grated Romano cheese, salt, pepper and parsley. So simple yet it was so flavorful when mixed with some Extra Virgin Olive Oil and stuffed into her peppers, artichokes or whatever else she found to stuff!

I don’t know what it is about them… but I could eat a bushel full of stuffed peppers!! When you bake them, the peppers get sweet, the crumbs inside are a contrasting texture and the flavors just explode together!

When I first got married and had my first vegetable garden I was a little over zealous with the peppers! They were these cute little ones but I had so many! I didn’t want to waste a single one so I picked them, cleaned them out and then froze the little “cups”. I was so proud of myself for growing my own peppers and then having them ready to stuff! It’s so exciting making things for the first time. Pasquale loved them.

What a good memory.

So all you have to do is either cut off the top of the pepper (if they are nice ones that stand up!) or cut them longways in half. Lately I’ve been doing them more longways… you get the same amount of pepper and same amount of stuffing in TWO pieces and you get extra crisp on the crumbs! And who doesn’t like more “crisp”?

The breadcrumbs….

Make breadcrumbs from “yesterdays” bread or leftover ends or even fresh bread if that’s all you have. YES fresh bread if fine. (DO NOT USE STOREBOUGHT CRUMBS IN A CAN!-they taste like SAND!) You can either use a food processor, a blender or if the bread is dry (like hard Italian bread) you can even use a cheese grater—which is how my Great Aunt ---My 94 year old Zia Angelina –makes them at the bakery in Italy. Keep your “fresh” breadcrumbs in the freezer and you will always have them when you need them!

For the Stuffed Peppers—

1. You need about one handful of breadcrumbs per pepper.

2. Add about ¼ - ½ handful of grated romano (recommended) or parmigiano or grano Padano cheese. (ONCE AGAIN- DO NOT USE GRATED CHEESE THAT IS ON A SHELF IN A CAN! -more sand and other crap!)

3. Add some chopped fresh garlic—either minced with a knife or thru a garlic press -this is to your taste. I use about 1 average sized clove per whole pepper.

4. Add fresh chopped parsley.

5. And….some salt and pepper to taste.

6. Mix all dry ingredients together.

7. Lastly moisten the breadcrumbs with Extra Virgin Olive Oil until they are all are just moist and would almost stick together if squeezed.

Fill each cleaned pepper with the breadcrumb mixture. Pack lightly. Only pack in more if you have leftover.

Place in a baking dish. Drizzle a little more olive oil over the top of each pepper.

Cover the dish with a lid or foil for the first 15 minutes then uncover to let brown.

Bake at 375° F or 190°C for about 30-40 min. or until you can stick a fork in the pepper and the top is crisped.

There’s more than one way to stuff a pepper…!!!

Stay tuned for more!
Love,

Dorina

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