Friday, December 6, 2013

Pittule Day


photo by Jennifer Werndorf (one of my best friends)

I was supposed to be landing at Newark airport tonight, be on my way to my cousin's house to spend the night. In the morning we were headed up to Rockland County in New York, just over the Hudson from the city, where all my Italian relatives were meeting for the annual Pittule Day. I haven't been in fifteen years, since I moved to Los Angeles in 1997, and I was so looking forward to seeing aunts and uncles and cousins and cousins' children and even cousins' children's children. My parents will be there and so will my two sisters. Pittule Day is an Aquino family tradition where the elder women make enormous bowls of a yeast dough that rises and rises until it's almost tipping out of the container. Then pieces of the dough are grabbed and shaped into small balls and dropped into hot oil. They float there, frying, while the women and more enlightened men prod them in their oil bath until they turn a golden brown and are removed and placed on paper towels and are then topped with powdered sugar. Hundreds of these little delicacies are fried and eaten about as fast as they come out of the pot, until someone declares that it's time for the savory ones. The same-sized pieces of dough are pinched off, and a small chunk of anchovy is pushed into the center before they're dropped into the oil and cooked until golden brown as well. There are about sixty people at the gathering and food, probably, for six hundred. Trays of melanzane, homemade soppressata, cheeses, breads, pasta and meats, figs and peppers, oranges and whole walnuts, ready to be cracked.

Anywho.

I bought a ticket about a month ago for a very cheap price and was going for two nights, a quick trip with a stack of New Yorkers, my ducks at home in a row, and an ugly, old L.L. Bean coat pulled out of the back of the closet (I don't own a coat!) . I even wore socks! About a half hour after I arrived at the airport, when I was just opening my first New Yorker and eating my first Twizzler, I learned that our flight was delayed due to weather on the east coast, and because I was already arriving very late and the rumor was worse storms beginning Sunday, when I absolutely needed to make a flight home to Los Angeles, I decided to cancel my flight. Snow, sleet, ice and rain kept me away.

I'm sad to have missed the weekend and seeing people whom I haven't seen in years. I was also looking forward to all that reading on the plane, to ripping off the address labels of my New Yorkers as I finished them and tucking them into the pouch on the back of the seat in front of me.

Anywho.

I'm here in Los Angeles where it's gloriously beautiful and very cold for us. It's going down to the high thirties tonight, but the air is crystal clear, the clouds fluffy, the moon a perfect crescent. We won't get snow or ice or sleet, and that's just fine. I'll be picking out a Christmas tree tomorrow when my dear relatives are picking dough balls out of hot oil and licking their sugary fingers. I'll miss them.

12 comments:

  1. I'm bummed you are missing that. Fatty dough might be just the ticket.

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  2. I'm sorry...a journey thwarted is the worst kind. Maybe you need to start a Pittule Day - West Coast. :)

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  3. It sounds like a fun tradition - I'll bet they're doing it again next year (tongue in cheek)

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  4. I'm sorry you missed the fun with family. I do the same thing with my New Yorker's. I always hope someone reads them and it improves their day.
    Enjoy your day~

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  5. The Italian in me is so sorry that you had to miss out! The food, the camaraderie...sounds like it would have been a wonderful weekend. As with you, many of my loved ones are on the opposite coast (they are far closer to you than me) and at this time of year in particular I miss so much being with them. :(

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  6. Oh, bummer. I'm sorry you couldn't go. I've never heard of pittules, but they sound good!

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  7. I think you made the right decision. Flying is angst-y enough without having to worry about horrible weather and delays and cancellations. Did you, however, consider smuggling yourself off to some other, closer destination for a short weekend of solitude and New Yorker reading?
    Enjoy your winter-like weather. We're back up on the high seventies and muggy as hell.

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  8. UGH - I'm so sorry your trip was cancelled! I hope something wonderful comes up in L.A. for you over the weekend. Is there an Italian group that would love to share this tradition with you (like the Sons of Norway groups do with Norwegian traditions)? It would be an awesome thing to share in a homeschooling group...but wait...boiling oil and kids? Maybe not.

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  9. yeah, flying east right now is a mess. Mother nature trumps fried balls of delicious dough! (oh, and btw, YOU didn't lose me, I just made a new site that was hard to find!)

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  10. I am a third generation member of a large family who emigrated from Albania. Like you, I also have second, third and fourth cousins and some whom I have never met still living in Albania. Get-togethers always include an insane amount of native dishes and conversation that is loud and boisterous, almost deafening but loads and loads of fun. There is always a lot of laughing until tears...an emotion I love but seem to be missing these days. I have also missed out on many of these family celebrations so I know exactly how you are feeling. As usual I understand dear sister.

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