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Mangia! Mangia!
Maybe not literally, but if South Side Chicago's strong cement sidewalks could wear out, my cousins Marietta and Betty Luparello and I would have done it. My cousins lived with their grandparents Onofrio and Marietta Luparello and parents John and Clara Luparello. When my father came to America he lived with Onofrio, his mother's brother, who was more like Daddy's father than his uncle. I was 5 years old when we moved from the apartment on the North Side to this our family's first house. My little brother John was almost two. On sunny days, Mom put Johnny in the stroller and, with me holding on to her skirt, we walked to the end of the block. Mom could comfortably visit with Aunt Clara and Zia Marietta while my cousins and I played in their fenced-in yard or on the back porch. Betty was seven weeks older and Marietta a year and a half older than I. That we should get along and play together was a natural.
Everyone got along well and enjoyed each other's company. When school started in the fall, Betty and I were in the same grade at John F. Eberhart Grammar School; Marietta was a year ahead of us. Eventually, our teachers would find out we were cousins and ask how we were related. We answered that our fathers were first cousins and that our grandparents were brother and sister. Then they would go through what I called the "twice removed drill." I could never remember all the "removed cousins" rules. Like most Italians, all I knew was that if they were close to my age, they were cousins. If they were older, like their father, he was "Uncle John" and his wife was "Aunt Clara." As I got older, Mom let me walk to my cousins' by myself. Some summer evenings, we walked back and forth to each other's house. We were quite the sight: three little girls, arm-in-arm skipping down the sidewalk, playing, "Don't step on a crack, you'll break your mother's back" game. My mother called us the Three Musketeers because we were always together. We played together and when we got old enough to attend Catechism, we prayed together. The three of us made our First Communion and Confirmation together. As we grew to preteens, I rode my bicycle to their house. Our games changed to Monopoly and Canasta that we played on their back porch. When we were learning dance at school, we practiced in their basement among the ice cream parlor chairs, the wine barrels, and the aroma of fermenting wine, to 45's by Perry Como and Patti Page. On graduation, we went to different high schools. But during summer vacations, we again spent time together. When Marietta got smitten with a cute blond haired blue-eyed young man at the boat place, she asked me to walk up to 63rd Street. Marietta fluttered her long lashed eyes and smiled her beautiful smile at the handsome boat mechanic. He didn't stand a chance. In 1958, dressed in a beautiful white bridal gown, she walked up the aisle to Bob Ogarek. Soon after, Betty also married. And in 1960, Mom, Dad, Johnny and I moved to Southern California. As the decades passed, the closeness the three of us shared was reduced to a greeting card at Christmas. With the advent of the word processor and copy machine, I added our family newsletter to the inside of my cards. In 1998, I included my e-mail address. In response to "you have mail" one day, I pulled up a message from Cousin Marietta. Through the magic of electronics, we became reacquainted. In 2000, I flew up for a long weekend at her home while Aunt Clara was visiting from her home in Florida. It was like 40 years had not passed. Today, a day doesn't go by when we don't "talk" on the Internet. As it was when we were children grooving a pathway in the sidewalk, Marietta and I are more than cousins; we're friends. Old Fashioned Pineapple Upside Down Cake
When I could not locate my mother's recipe for Pineapple Upside-Down Cake, I sent up a flare to Marietta. She came to my rescue with one she has used since she and Bob have been married- 50 years next year. In her own words, and in her own style, here's Mar's formula. 1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Drain pineapple slices, reserving 2 tablespoons of the syrup. In a very heavy or iron, 10 -inch skillet with heat-resistant handle, melt butter over medium heat. Add brown sugar, stirring until sugar is melted. Remove from heat. 2. Arrange 8 pineapple slices on sugar mixture, overlapping slices slightly around edge of pan. Put one slice in center. Fill centers with pecan halves. Halve three remaining pineapple slices. Arrange around inside edge of skillet. Put pecans (or cherries) in centers of pineapples. 3. Into medium bowl, sift flour with granulated sugar, baking powder and salt. Add shortening and milk. With electric mixer at high speed, beat 2 minutes, or until mixture is smooth. Add egg and reserved 2 tablespoons pineapple syrup; beat 2 minutes longer. 4. Gently pour cake batter over pineapple in skillet, spreading evenly, being careful not to disarrange pineapple. On rack in center of oven, bake 40 to 45 minutes, or until golden in color and surface of cake springs back when it's gently pressed with fingertip. 5. Let skillet stand on wire rack 5 minutes to cool just slightly. With rotary beater, beat cream until stiff. With small spatula, loosen cake from edge of skillet all around. Place serving platter over the cake, and turn upside down; shake gently, lift off skillet. 6. Serve cake warm, with the whipped cream or ice cream. NOTE: Pineapple upside-down cake is traditionally baked in an iron skillet. If your skillet does not have an iron or heatproof handle, wrap handle in foil before placing in the oven. Serves 8. |
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