Christmas Week
This is the first Christmas where I have been aware of north Jersey's strong Christmas celebrations.
They include getting real Italian pastries from good pastry shops, making a big fish dinner on Christmas Eve, dressing flashy and attending mass wearing furs. Oh to be meek at heart...
I went to the very good pastry shop called Palazzone to pick up a box of Napolitan treats. The owners are a young family from Abruzzo and one of them reminds me of the character, Serena, from the Italian soap opera "Un Posto al Sole". (You can watch it here!)The location of Palazzone is terrible being right on the entrance ramp for route 46 East that heads into Manhattan. It takes nerve and guts to get to the pastry shop. Nevertheless, real Italian pastries are worth fighting NJ traffic for.
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On Christmas Eve cars were parked on the grass, on the highway, in the ditch all to get a box of the real deal pastries. I quickly recognized the situation and chaos and did what any proper Jersey girl would do: elbowed my way in the door through the mass of people and hunted down one of the counter girls to make eye contact. Once eye contact was made I immediately shouted my order. Shouting is common in North Jersey. "You gotta problem with that?"
On my way out I passed Joe and Teresa Giudice....they are the people in my neighborhood and Mr. Rodgers would not be proud.
I also made a stop to get fish preserved in salt, called baccala. It is made soft in water loosing its saltiness then deep fried or cooked with tomatoes and olives.
It originally comes from Portuguese sailors who kept this sort of salted fish on board of their sailing vessels because it would last a long time. We initially thought of keeping it in the cool dark basement but thought twice. This fish may have lasted months on the Portuguese sailing ships but wouldn't last more than a minute next to Fatty. The Fat One's food now hangs on a nail high on the wall in the basement...we need to keep it from him like a little bear. He has turned out to be a skillful climber at the ripe old age of 13.
We passed Christmas day eating and being lazy. I was also shocked to find out that the Chef had never seen "It's a Wonderful Life".
We watched it for 10 minutes before it made me teary eyed and we changed the channel to watch something more wholesome.
My husband was shocked to find out that I never watched the Sopranos. But really...when I was a single girl I didn't have a TV for 2 years. And when I finally got one I watched and re-watched Pride and Prejudiced and The Diary of Bridget Jones (based on Pride and Predjudice). There was simply no time in between those Oscar-worthy movies to watch the Sopranos! Mr. Darcy....need I say more.
Santa also came to our house.
He delivered this extra-reinforced package TAPED all over and worthy of being hung in the Museum of Modern Art. The amount of tape used to reinforce it is really unbelievable.
It really would be a work of art hanging there in the middle of a well-lit gallery.
I'll never forget the time my mother-in-law sent us cheese, yes cheese, wrapped in 5 cm of aluminum foil. Oh mothers....ours love to wrap packages so securely to make sure they could survive a bombing or alien attack. Back to Santa, I asked him (on Christmas Eve) to ease a nerve I pinched on my back which has prevented me from being useful at all this week. But Santa doesn't care about pinched nerves or twisted necks. He did deposit some needed household items and left red glitter on the floor. I'm convinced by this red glitter that either Santa does exist or some holiday stripper got lost running through my house. You never know...but I really would like to know where that red glitter came from.
In any case, I'm off to sooth my pinched nerve. It's like I have a knife in my back. It is really a mess to have this sort of constant annoying pain. I've been unable to blog, eat properly with a fork and knife, sit in any comfortable position or even sleep comfortably. Darn cold. It all started when I was driving one day when it was 19 degrees and I turned my head to see if traffic was coming. Ug. The pain makes my thoughts too patchy to write. I do have one very nice, make that two, very nice blog ideas coming soon. One is today's trip to Hoboken where I took some great (though sad) industrial pictures and the other blog I want to write is how to take care of senior cats.
The end, for now to ease my annoying back....
They include getting real Italian pastries from good pastry shops, making a big fish dinner on Christmas Eve, dressing flashy and attending mass wearing furs. Oh to be meek at heart...
I went to the very good pastry shop called Palazzone to pick up a box of Napolitan treats. The owners are a young family from Abruzzo and one of them reminds me of the character, Serena, from the Italian soap opera "Un Posto al Sole". (You can watch it here!)The location of Palazzone is terrible being right on the entrance ramp for route 46 East that heads into Manhattan. It takes nerve and guts to get to the pastry shop. Nevertheless, real Italian pastries are worth fighting NJ traffic for.
.jpg)
On Christmas Eve cars were parked on the grass, on the highway, in the ditch all to get a box of the real deal pastries. I quickly recognized the situation and chaos and did what any proper Jersey girl would do: elbowed my way in the door through the mass of people and hunted down one of the counter girls to make eye contact. Once eye contact was made I immediately shouted my order. Shouting is common in North Jersey. "You gotta problem with that?"
On my way out I passed Joe and Teresa Giudice....they are the people in my neighborhood and Mr. Rodgers would not be proud.
 |
| They are surprisingly short. My golden retriever could have pulled them both in a sleigh. |
I also made a stop to get fish preserved in salt, called baccala. It is made soft in water loosing its saltiness then deep fried or cooked with tomatoes and olives.
It originally comes from Portuguese sailors who kept this sort of salted fish on board of their sailing vessels because it would last a long time. We initially thought of keeping it in the cool dark basement but thought twice. This fish may have lasted months on the Portuguese sailing ships but wouldn't last more than a minute next to Fatty. The Fat One's food now hangs on a nail high on the wall in the basement...we need to keep it from him like a little bear. He has turned out to be a skillful climber at the ripe old age of 13.
 |
| "You bet I would climb Mt. Blanc if there was food at the top!" |
 |
| pulling little George Bailey out of the pond. |
We watched it for 10 minutes before it made me teary eyed and we changed the channel to watch something more wholesome.
 |
| The Sopranos. The real family lives minutes from us. And they are involved in the "sanitation" business. |
Santa also came to our house.
 |
| (thanks, mama) |
He delivered this extra-reinforced package TAPED all over and worthy of being hung in the Museum of Modern Art. The amount of tape used to reinforce it is really unbelievable.
It really would be a work of art hanging there in the middle of a well-lit gallery.
 |
| "Did you see 'The Package'? It was absolutely brilliant. The artist meant to convey the feeling of a trapped young housewife of the 1980's in Kansas. Unbelievable emotion expressed in the tightly wound asphyxiating Scotch tape. Remarkable, simply astounding art!" |
I'll never forget the time my mother-in-law sent us cheese, yes cheese, wrapped in 5 cm of aluminum foil. Oh mothers....ours love to wrap packages so securely to make sure they could survive a bombing or alien attack. Back to Santa, I asked him (on Christmas Eve) to ease a nerve I pinched on my back which has prevented me from being useful at all this week. But Santa doesn't care about pinched nerves or twisted necks. He did deposit some needed household items and left red glitter on the floor. I'm convinced by this red glitter that either Santa does exist or some holiday stripper got lost running through my house. You never know...but I really would like to know where that red glitter came from.
In any case, I'm off to sooth my pinched nerve. It's like I have a knife in my back. It is really a mess to have this sort of constant annoying pain. I've been unable to blog, eat properly with a fork and knife, sit in any comfortable position or even sleep comfortably. Darn cold. It all started when I was driving one day when it was 19 degrees and I turned my head to see if traffic was coming. Ug. The pain makes my thoughts too patchy to write. I do have one very nice, make that two, very nice blog ideas coming soon. One is today's trip to Hoboken where I took some great (though sad) industrial pictures and the other blog I want to write is how to take care of senior cats.
 |
| Step 1: Get a cat |
 |
| Step 2: Make sure it lives to be a senior (age 7 in cat years) Step 3: to be continued |
Oh, and New Year's Resolutions are coming up again!
The end, for now to ease my annoying back....
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