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Archive for August, 2010

We recently received this email which we’d like to share with you. We think it’s OK to laugh at ourselves once in a while. We’d like to hear your comments, too! 

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‘CapEESH’
 
Capeeshe  Italiano……..  
I’m  sending this out to every person I know who is Italian, could be Italian, married an Italian, lived with Italians or wants to be Italian……!!!!!  

Let’s start at the  beginning.
Come stai? Molto bene. Bon giorno. Ciao. Arrivederci. Every Italian from Italy knows these words and every Italian-American should.

But what about the goomba speech pattern?  Those words and phrases that are a little Italian, a little American, and a little slang.
Words every Paesano and Bacciagaloop we have heard, – words we hear throughout our Little Italy neighborhood of New York. This form of language, the ‘Goomba-Italiano ‘ has been used for generations. It’s not gangster slang terms like ‘whack’ or ‘vig’, if that’s what you are thinking—nope, this is real Guido talk!
 
The goomba says ciao when he arrives or leaves. He says Mama Mia anytime emotion is needed in any given situation. Mannaggia, meengya, oofah, and of course, va fongool can also be used. Capeesh?

He uses a moppeen to wipe his hands in the cuchina, gets agita from the gravy and will shkeevats meatballs unless they are homemade from the famiglia. Always foonah your bread in the pot of gravy (sauce) or you will be considered a real googootz or a Mezzo-finookio.
 
There are usually plenty of mamalukes and the girl from the neighborhood with the reputation is a facia-bruta, puttana or a schifosa.  

If you are called cattivo, cabbadost, sfatcheem, stupido, or strunz, you are usually a pain in the ass. A crazy diavlo can give you the malokya (evil eye), but that red horn (contra malokya) will protect you if you use it right. Don ‘t forget to always say per favore and grazia and prego.
If you are feeling mooshadda or stounad or mezzo-morto, always head to Nonna’s and she will fix you up with a little homemade manicott’, cavadell’, or calamar ‘, or some ricotta cheesecake. 
Mangia some zeppoles, cannolis, torrone, struffoli,  shfoolyadell’, pignoli cookies, or a little nutella on pannetone. Delizioso! I think I will fix myself a sangweech of cabacol’ with some proshoot and mozarell’ or maybe just a hot slice of peetza.  

So salud’ if you have any Italian blood in you and you understood anything written here! Then, you are numero uno and a professore of  the goombas.
  
If you don’t get any of this, then fa Nabola with the whole thing and you are a disgraziato. Scuzi, Mia dispiachay, I didn’t mean  that…….
Just…….  Fugheddaboudit
Bada Bing
 
 
This is also so true.   Enjoy!
 
Italians have a $40,000 kitchen, but use the $100, 35 year old stove from Sears in the basement to cook things on..
 
There is some sort of religious statue in the hallway, living room, bedroom, front porch and backyard.
 
The outdoor table is linoleum covered with small, chrome metal trim along the edges.
 
The living room is filled with old wedding favors with bows and stale almonds (they are too pretty to open and eat).
 
All lampshades, stuffed chairs and stuffed couches are covered with stiff, clear plastic.
 
A portrait of the Pope and Frank Sinatra hang in the dining room.
 
God forbid if anyone EVER attempted to eat ‘Chef Boy-ar-Dee’, ‘Franco American’,
‘Ragu’, ‘Prego’, or anything else labeled as Italian in a jar or can.
 
Meatballs are made with pork, veal and beef, mixed together.
 
Turkey is served on Thanksgiving AFTER the manicotti, gnocchi, lasagna, and
minestrone or shcarole soup. If anyone EVER says ESCAROLE, slap ’em in the face — it’s SHCAROLE.
 
Sunday dinner was at 1:00 PM sharp. The meal went like this… The table was set with everyday dishes. It doesn’t matter if they don’t match. They’re clean; what more do you want? Wine, homemade, is served up in small water or old, cheese glasses.
 
At the table all the utensils go on the right side of the plate and the napkin goes on the left.
 
A clean kitchen towel was put at Nonno’s & Papa’s plates because they won’t use napkins.
 
Homemade wine, a pitcher of water and bottles of 7-UP are on the table.
 
First course, Antipasto…
 
Change plates.
 
Second course, macaroni or ravioli.
All pasta was called macaroni…or `paste`.
 
Change plates.
 
Third course was usually roast beef, some chicken with potatoes and vegetables…
 
Change plates.
 
THEN, and only then – NEVER AT THE BEGINNING OF THE MEAL
– would you eat the salad drenched in homemade oil & strong, red-vinegar dressing…
 
Change plates.
 
Next course, fruit & nuts – in the shell – on paper plates because you ran out of the real ones. You pinched yourself on that damn nutcracker…how many times..?
 
Last was coffee with anisette, some espresso for Nonno, ‘American’ coffee for the rest – with hard cookies (biscottis) to dunk in the coffee with more fruit and some cheese.
 
The kids would go out to play.
 
The men would go lay down.  They slept so soundly that you could do brain surgery on them without anesthesia.
 
The women cleaned the kitchen.
 
We got screamed at by Mama or Nonna, and half of the sentences were English, the other half in Italian.
 
Italian mothers never threw a baseball in their life, but could nail you in the head or back with their shoe thrown from the kitchen while you were in the living room.
 
Other things particular to Italians…
 
The prom dress that Zia Ceserina made for her kid, Carmella, cost only $20.00, which was for the material. The prom hairdo was done free by Cousin Angelina.
 
Turning around at your prom to see your entire family, including your Godparents, standing in the back of the gym….was simply PRICELESS!
 
True Italians will love this.
 
Those of you who are married to Italians will understand this.
 
And those who wish they were Italian, and those who are friends with Italians, will remember with a smile.
 
Then they’ll forward this to their Italian friends with love or a reasonable facsimile.

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