If there is one quote which sums up Michelina, it is her exact words, which are: “Living simply is beautiful in itself. I was able to see beauty in so many things while I travelled to Florence. It was like living in a museum, rich with art, antiquity, architecture, but most of all, I loved the straightforwardness of the people that I met in Florence. It's a place where art and reality intermingle, creating a surprising life.  Traditions are never lost because we cannot erase history.  It’s the person who wants the connection to their tradition who seeks and finds them.” - Michelina

Michelina is an energetic and outgoing Italian American woman who lives in Stamford, CT. Her dark brown eyes are filled with appreciation for Calabrese and all cultural traditions. Also, she appreciates the literary works of Dante and Shakespeare and enjoys investigating the hidden meanings in history and art. It only took one simple question to get Michelina to open the doors to her heart.  At first, Michelina was not sure if I would be interested in hearing her Italian American story. I said, “Why would you think that?” She said, “Well, I was not sure if my experience in Florence is the type of story that you are looking for because it is more of a modern day perspective.” I told Michelina that I am curious about all different Italian American perspectives and the fact that she lived in Florence for a few months is a fascinating topic! Michelina took me on a journey back several years ago at  her parents’ house in Stamford, CT.

I went on a journey back in time with Michelina as she told me her story. One day, she  walked past the antique lamp in her parent's living-room. She wanted a piece of paper from the old desk in the hallway. Suddenly, she stopped when she heard someone crying softly.  Although she wanted to embrace her mother, Melina, she decided to allow her mother privacy.  She sensed her mother’ s sadness.  Michelina noticed the turquoise sky over Stamford that day.  While the other kids in the neighborhood were playing kickball, Michelina’s dark brown eyes were enlarged as she watched her mother address an air mail envelope.   Sometimes Melina would write letters to her family in Calabria, and it made her very emotional.    “My mother missed her family in Calabria.” It was difficult for Melina to be separated from her family, and Michelina told me that even though her mother was strong and happy, she knew she felt lonely at times.  However, there were many family gatherings that Michelina remembers as her father's parents and brothers had also migrated from Italy.   She heard commotion in the living room as her Uncles came to visit. She said that her father, who is an engineer, has four brothers, Stefano, who is a banker, Giovanni, who is an accountant, Claudio, a plumber, and Antonio, who is an electrician.  That’s what I call one stop shopping! You can get everything you need at this house!  Michelina has a thirst for Italian Literature and Art, which keeps her close to her Italian culture and roots.

“What is one of your most exciting or memorable experiences as  an Italian American?” I asked.  Michelina put down her fork and smiled. She said that living in Florence and travelling to Calabria helped her to understand her parents and gain a deeper understanding of her life as an Italian American.

Michelina touched the gold lettering on the cover of her U.S. passport. She reached into her backpack and pulled out her leather wallet. She noticed all of the small slips of paper with the names and phone numbers of her relatives who lived in Calabria as well as the address of her new apartment in Florence.

Michelina walked around her bedroom and touched the floral comforter on her bed and picked up a picture of her parents, Rocco and Melina. Also, she gazed at a story of her sister, Mary, “Palmina.”  I love Italian nicknames. Sometimes I can create a story just around a nickname.  “My sister was born on Palm Sunday, so her middle name is Palmina,” Michelina said.   

Michelina had so many emotions flowing in her body.  She felt excited and she had a sense of freedom while she held on to her airline ticket to Florence, Italy. Although Michelina would miss the commotion of her parents’ dining room on the weekends or holidays, Michelina was ready to explore Florence. “Although my mother was strong, she had many gentle ways about her". Leaving home for a few months was difficult for Michelina, but she wanted independence, a quest for knowledge, and to be able to taste, see , hear, and touch  everything that Italy had to offer. 

“Michelina, hurry up, it’s time to go to the airport,” Michelina’s father yelled up the steps.  Michelina grabbed her Florence guide book.  She looked in the mirror, put on her jacket, and took one last look at her room. It was hard for Michelina to leave her familiar surroundings, but she realized that if her parents were able to leave Calabria and begin a new life in the United States, she could certainly handle living for a few months in Florence. 

“Did you pack your jacket?” her mother asked. “Yes, I'm wearing it,” Michelina said.  “Don’t forget your wallet!” Her father said. Her mother put in a few packages of instant cappuccino mix. My mother does the same thing just as I am leaving for vacation. There is always some type of food or beverage that she thinks I might need at the last minute.

Michelina felt excited during the airplane ride, but had the ability to fall asleep as soon as the plane took off.  Even though she wanted to stay awake to chat with the other students, she couldn't resist the temptation of an eight-hour nap.  As soon she as got off the plane, she smelled the fresh air and the scent of the Italian earth that brought her back to the first time she landed in Rome as a child.  She searched for her luggage on the conveyer belt.  "Yes!  they arrived!"  Everyone stared at Michelina, who was ecstatic at seeing her luggage come around.  This was the first time in all of her travels to Italy that  all of the luggage actually arrived on the same flight.  She was so used to her luggage getting lost by now, that she knew to pack extra undies, a toothbrush, and a change of clothes in her carry-on luggage.   No matter how old I get, I usually tie some kind of pom pom or put some type of rope around the handle of my suitcase so I can spot it quicker.  I never remember to have my euro ready for the carts for my luggage.  I always forget that the carts in the airport are not for free and I look silly each time I pull the carriage and it gets stuck without a coin.  Michelina found her suitcase and shoved it on to the cart.   Michelina bought a Perugina Baci chocolate bar (she had never seen her favorite chocolate as a bar before) for the ride to the apartment. 

She finally loaded a beast of a luggage into the taxi, with the help of the driver, who muttered a few choice Italian words.  Michelina smiled sweetly and said "grazie". The taxi driver seemed to forget he threw out his back.    She climbed into the taxi with five other American girls, who were her roomates.  She looked out the window as she arrived in Florence.  There were people fashionably walking along the shops of the Pontevecchio, peeking in through the gold windows and carrying fresh baked bread.  There were business men zooming in vespas with their little children holding on for the ride to school.  A few tour buses passed by, Michelina cringed thinking how could they get through these narrow streets without scraping the walls. Finally, Michelina arrived at her apartment. There was a beautiful terrace, or terrazzo overlooking the Florence skyline.  She thought, "I'll just need to look up to find the Duomo, if I ever get lost.  That will be my point of departure." 

When Michelina arrived at the apartment building, she pulled her luggage into one of the most beautiful elevators she had ever been in.  "It reminded me of an elevator from the 1940's.  It had a door that was opened with a key and the most intricate brass iron work.  It was so special to have used that elevator."  Their apartment was on the fourth floor.  It was spacious and furnished with simple furniture.  “How did everyone pick their bedrooms? Was it first come first serve?,” I asked.  Michelina said that they picked numbers to decide who would get certain bedrooms. Michelina reached to grab her number. It was the jackpot!!! She chose the number which equated to having her own room!   Imagine, being in Florence and having your own room!  This was the key to independence.

One day everyone was in the kitchen.   One roommate was cooking chicken with rosemary, while the other was making arugula salad and potato fritte, or fried potatoes.  She made friends quickly and carried on the Italian tradition of cooking together with her friends while she was in Florence.  Michelina is the type of person who makes you feel comfortable the moment she greets you. 

One morning, some of the women were painting their nails, while others were looking through magazines. Suddenly, they heard, “Ciao!”coming from an office across the street. The window of their apartment faced an attorney’s office. The attorney's name was Roberto and he wore a dark robe each time he had to go to court.  He did not speak English but he waved from his window when the girls were on their balcony. One day, he invited Michelina to a Halloween Party in an abandoned train station.  He shouted across the street, “Ciao, would you like to go to a Halloween Party tonight?” the attorney asked. “Certo! sounds like fun!” Michelina agreed. 

Michelina hopped through puddles as it was a rainy evening and could she could hear the music growing louder as she approached the station.  Michelina walked into the dimly lit station and mingled with the other guests, as she noticed the high ceilings, exposed pipes, and arched windows. They were celebrating the American Halloween in October. Usually they celebrate Carnevale in February, but they were American so the Halloween celebration was fun!

“What do you remember about the people you met in Italy?” I asked. Michelina said that she remembers the Italian men. “They are such charmers,” she laughed. This is not meant to stereotype all Italian men, and should be taken with humor.  Some men in Italy are very charming and flirtatious. “One man in Florence told me that he could figure out which country a woman is from simply by the way she walks.”  I rolled my eyes and laughed. 

“What images of Florence do you remember the most?” I asked.  Michelina said that she remembers walking through San Lorenzo Market every day. “I had to walk through San Lorenzo Market to get to  Piazza Della Madonna degli Aldobrandini, where we had our classes.”  I envisioned the leather belts hanging from the metal rack in San Lorenzo market right next to the long table of sunglasses, Firenze sweatshirts, and the long table of souvenirs.  "They sold everything florentine in the market - leather, linens, lace, handmade paper, food, figs when they were in season," Michelina said as she thought about all the gifts she bought.  Most people carried a few bags of fresh pears or apples, while some admired the wallets and linens.  Michelina and I  shared stories about buying things in Italy back when the unit of currency was the lira.  I remember going to the market in Florence or in Sora.   There was always a person who wanted me to bring back leather baby shoes from Italy, a gold horn, or gold chain.  Sometimes I would buy linens and save them as Christmas gifts. Nowadays, things are different and we have to watch every dime we spend, so I have cut back on the gifts. I used to love buying those sneakers and canvas shoes in the markets. One of my uncles used to wear the slip on, canvas shoes which had rope on the bottom of the sole.   Sometimes I would buy the dishtowels which had the days of the week embroidered on each towel.   Let’s not forget the pottery!  Wrapping the pottery and putting it in a suitcase was always a project.

Michelina told me that she used to pass by a lot of men when she walked through San Lorenzo market. The men spoke in Italian, “look at that beautiful woman!”, or “what beautiful eyes!” The whistles echoed up and down San Lorenzo market.  There were men inviting women to sit next to them and share an apperitivo, an espresso, or gelato.   Sometimes you could hear the end of a sentence, “see you at 8:00pm at the trattoria!” as the men made dates with the women. Some of the women sat in the back of the moped for a ride to Piazza Della Madonna degli Aldobrandini.  However, her roommates were always on the hunt for American men while they were in Italy.

I guess we figured out why San Lorenzo is a market place! Michelina and I laughed again as we agreed it was obviously a great way to meet men. Although Michelina had met a few men, they were mostly friends to pass the time chatting in Florentine dialect and figuring out local hot spots.  One afternoon Michelina admired the leather belts in San Lorenzo. “Hello,”  a man said.  “Hi,!” Michelina said.  She was being greeted by a German man, Derek. He asked her out for an aperitivo.  The sound of her hairdryer travelled into the street that night as she put on her mascara and combed her brunette hair. Michelina really turned a lot of heads back in Florence and she still does so in Stamford!  One day a dog started to follow her through San Lorenzo market. The dog belonged to Manuel, a Brazilian man.  They started talking one day and became friends.  Michelina sipped her coffee with him and sometimes they went to hear an Italian band that used to sing Beatle songs in English! "I loved that experience!  They looked and sounded just like the Beatles!  And the club was underground and decorated with red velvet booths."  Michelina will never forget Marecana, a Brazilian night club in Florence where she met a man named Giuseppe.   After they danced, they sat down to get to know each other.  He was surprised to find out Michelina was studying landscape architecture especially since his family owned a greenhouse and he worked at several  villas in Italy.

 One day, Michelina met up with Giuseppe at the Santa Maria Novella Train Staion.  He was from Montevarchi, a small Tuscan town outside of Florence, well known for its designer outlets.  Michelina thought he came from a town called Monte Vacche and asked if thery were famous for their cows.  Giuseppe looked at her suspiciously, asking sweelty "What do you mean?"  Michelina said, "I just figured that there must be a lot of cows if they name the town after them,"  she said naively.  In Italian, vacche means cows and Michelina had misinterpreted Giuseppe's pronunciation.  He had a good laugh and loved how Michelina would mix real Italian with words from the Calabrese dialect.  She took him on a tour of Florence, even though he probably knew the city better than she did.  They stopped at an outdoor cafe by the Duomo to have hot chocolates and Michelina noticed Giuseppe's  necklace that looked like a chicken foot. “Do you think it protected him against the malocchio, or evil eye?”, I asked.  “Maybe he was wearing the chicken foot for good luck, or his grandmother may have given it to him to protect him while he travelled” I said.  Michelina said that she asked him about the chicken foot. He laughed and said that it was not a chicken foot! It was cross made out of coral!.  Michelina and I laughed. It is funny how we assumed it was to protect him against the evil eye, or "malocchio!"

A few weeks later, she decided to make Giuseppe dinner.   “You must have cooked a special meal,” I said.  Michelina wanted to make Tiramisu and went shopping for the all the ingredients.  She was so surprised to find a container of pre-prepared Tiramisu filling.  "This is great, I thought.  In America we have Betty Crocker frosting.  In Italy, you have ready spread tiramisu filling," Michelina said.  Unfortunately, she "read" the container of mascarpone cheese just by the picture of a beautiful tiramisu on the package.  She thought it was mascarpone with ground espresso and a couple of other ingredients. For some reason, she thought it was some type of premixed Tiramisu ingredients.   I laughed because I never heard of pre-mixed tiramisu ingredients.  Although Michelina loves to cook and stays close to her Italian traditions through cooking, every once in a while she likes to take a shortcut.  When she got back to the apartment, and put all the groceries away, Michelina opened up the container and took a taste.  Her eyes widened. It was only mascarpone!  The stores were closed and her date was going to be arriving soon!

She got up on a chair and searched through the cabinets. This would have been a time to pray to St. Anthony. My family prayed to St. Anthony whenever they were looking for something or needing to find something important!  She pulled out a few boxes of cookies and other items. All of a sudden, she found a box of brown sugar, and thanked St. Anthony for pulling through!  The sugar was as hard as a brick in the Pompei ruins, as it had been left behind from one of the other groups of students the year before.  “Well, this will have to do!” Michelina thought to herself as she searched for other “alternative ingredients.”  She found a bottle of Sweet Vermouth and the packets of instant cappuccino that her mother had given her back in the states, and some of her roommate's honey (she knew she wouldn't mind if Michelina took a spoonful)!   She made the espresso, dipped the lady fingers, and lined them up in a plate, then layered the mixture between the lady fingers cookies. I am not sure about the blend of flavors and I am sure that the chefs who read my site might be very concerned by now. However, her date enjoyed several forkfuls of Tiramisu alla Michelina!  He said, “Delizioso!” and tried to feed a taste to Michelina.  She accepted with a smile... "Mmmm. I really outdid myself."  

“It sounds like you had a blast!” I said. “Where else did you go in Italy?”  Michelina said that she went to a lot of museums. One day, Michelina walked to the museum and adored the statues and artwork in Florence. It really took her breath away.  Seeing artwork in a book is one thing, but touching it is another.  She also went to a vineyard in Chianti, where she tried a typical Florentine desert of a flat bread with grapes baked on top.  "I loved the flavors.  I could taste the olive oil and the salt and the sweetness of the grapes is so intense.  They only make it during the wine season," Michelina said.  She tries to recreate it every year in September or October, when her father buys the wine grapes.  "Every year the recipe changes.  It's almost as bad as the tiramisu.  I'll add different ingredients to see if this will be the one that makes all the difference.  But then I think, if I were making it Italy, it would taste better." 

“One day a roommate and I decided to go to Switzerland and Zurich by train,” Michelina explained. She put her duffle bag on the seat of the train, pulled out her bottle of Coca Cola and put her feet up on the seat. She told me she devoured tons of fine chocolate from Switzerland.   Michelina and her roommate enjoyed chatting with a man on the train. He was an American travelling through Europe. Ahh, those carefree days of travelling through Europe warm my heart. I remembered when I had a Eurail pass and travelled from Southern Italy to Northern Italy and Switzerland.  I saw Luzerne with the beautiful geraniums at every balcony.   She appreciated the conversation, but never exchanged numbers with the gentleman.  One month later, she decided to take a bus for the first time in Florence, as she was heading to the Soccer Museum. While she was getting on the bus, that same man from Switzerland was getting off the bus. They were reunited for a little while, exchanged glances and had a quick conversation. They grabbed their backpacks and went their own way again. These coincidences make travel interesting.   

Her sister, Pina called and announced that she was coming to visit her from the states. Michelina was so happy! When Pina arrived, Michelina looked out her window and started screaming she was so happy to see her.  She ran down the four flights of stairs so quickly and gave her sister a tight hug.  She helped Pina with her bags and brought her into the special elevator.

Michelina decided to have a welcome party for her sister, but it was also a going-away to say good bye to all her friends.  She invited about 30 of her friends and planned a typical seven course Italian meal. She roamed through the piazza that day buying fresh ingredients for the pesto sauce, prosciutto, potatoes, and pollo, or chicken.   She prepared a farfalle al pesto con gamberi (a bowtie pasta with a basil sauce and shrimp), herbed chicken with home made mashed potatoes. The potatoes had alternating layers of mozzarella cheese, prosciutto and boiled eggs.   Michelina baked the layered mashed potatoes in the gas oven that probably hadn't been lit in years.  Michelina, frustrated that the igniter was not catching the flame, put the gas up.  Suddenly, the oven lit, letting out a roar.  Michelina jumped back and noticed that her arm hairs were gone.  She dusted off the residue particles and set out to cook.  She had no time for kitchen mishaps with 30 guests coming.  She had picked up bouquets of brightly colored anemones, orange and yellow lilies, and bright pink and coral raunuculus flowers to fill the dining room and lit candles on the table.  The guests enjoyed fresh berries, lime, and champagne as they arrived and panetone cake, along with other sweets, for desert.  That cake follows me everywhere I go! Friends brought bottles of wine and shared stories with Michelina's sister.  Michelina gave a toast introducing her sister to Florence and thanking her friends for the memories.

As Michelina and her sister had a few days to tour the city, she brought her to all the sites.  On their last day, they went to Il Duomo.  Michelina hadn't climbed the cupolo yet, but decided it was time to make the climb.  It was a December evening at dusk and the sky was changing.  She was so happy to see the colors of the tuscan rooftops reflected in the sky; this was her point of departure.

Michelina is connected to her traditions because of her love of Italian literature, food and appreciation of Italian history. Most importantly, she remains connected through music and her priceless experiences that she had in Florence and that she continues every day in Fairfield County, CT.   

So many times I have heard people say, “the younger generation doesn’t do that….or, the younger generation does not understand tradtions.”  Michelina and many others who I have met made me realize although things have changed, or the construction of highways has changed Italian neighborhoods, there is one thing that is certain.   If we want to keep traditions alive, we always have history, appreciation of art, literature and gatherings with our family and friends. It might not always be identical to our parents or grandparents, but if you want to remain connected to traditions, you will, even if it is simply by traveling in Italy.  You can hang on to the simplest things.

Michelina and I have become friends after my first interview with her.