Italian Easter Traditions

 

 

 

Easter time growing up meant two things:  palms and lonza. 

First  . . . On Easter Mom would give each of us a special keepsake made from palms that she had hand-picked on Palm Sunday.  Mom always looked for the freshest palms because those palms were more flexible to bend and manipulate into the designs she intended to create.  Mom would work all week making sure she had a beautiful keepsake for Jerome, Jamie and me.  Even after we all grew up, married and moved out of the house, mom would continue to make us each one.

 

 

This year on Palm Sunday there were no palms distributed at our place of worship “The Compass Church”.  Fortunately, when Ron and I were in Vegas I picked up two different palm creations one which I had given to mom immediately upon arriving home from our trip in January which was a beautiful rose bouquet which sits nicely on her TV.  The second one was a much bigger and more delicate piece which I keep in my office.

 

 

Ron shellacked them so both creations can last for years as fond memories of my childhood and mom’s annual gift to us.  Mom was a perfectionist and so detailed-oriented; she was very talented with her hands.  I have to admit I always cherished this gift from mom and so glad I have a keepsake to remember our tradition.

 

 

Second . . . On Easter Dad would slice the ‘lonza’ that he had made with Uncle Ector and his family and Ernie his cousin.  They had brought the recipe for making Lonza here from our family origin in the San Benedetto region of Italy.    They would always gather together during the holidays to enjoy each other’s company and make the lonza.  After they finished the meat would have to cure for 13 weeks making Easter a perfect time to sample the Italian lunchmeat.

 

 

On Easter Sunday dad would go downstairs to our basement and slice the lonza wafer thin on his slicing machine.  Although my slicing machine is not dad's my meat slicer works perfect.

Lonza is made from precious meats that are unlike anything found in most specialty shops.  The only thing even remotely close to this delicacy is prosciutto; believe me lonza is twice as delicious and twice as expensive.

 

Unfortunately, no one in my immediate family learned this craft although my brothers and I loved eating the lonza.  My father has now been gone for 24 years.  When he passed so did this wonderful family tradition.

Fortunately, my Uncle Ector’s family has kept up this beautiful tradition within their family and his children have now passed down this tradition to their children.  We have on occasion been able to enjoy some of their lonza which has been a treat to say the least.  We have always appreciated their generosity.

 

 

Good news!  My cousin Paul started a company called Mascitti Specialty Meats.  He will be making lonza all year long and selling to specialty shops.  How great!

Last Saturday, after the pizza party with mom I stopped at Paul’s to pick up a lonza.  I had to take a photo for mom of Paul with the lonza. 

 

Mom was so excited when I told her that he was making and selling lonza that she could hardly wait to have some.  I promised I would come over for lunch this week and bring her some.

I have had two very sick puppies in and out of the animal hospital this week so today was the first day I could bring mom lonza and Italian bread. 

When I showed her what I brought, her words were, “Oh boy  . . .  it looks great.” 

 

 

And indeed the lonza was absolutely delicious.  As people came and talked with us, mom had to tell everyone what we were eating.  She talked about Paul and how he handmade the lonza.  She talked about my dad and how he loved making the lonza.

 

Mom took such enjoyment out of eating the lonza that I gave her most of what I had brought.  And when I went to leave mom said, “Julienne, this was a real treat.”

What a gift to be able to enjoy this family tradition again.