I know that we were not to celebrate the Feast of St. Joseph on March 19th this year, because it fell during Holy Week. And I tried, I really did, to keep in step with the Church. I wrote my check for tickets to the Irish-Italian dinner at my parish on Saturday the 15th. They were sold out. Okey-dokey. I can deal with that. Mike took half my kids with him for a soccer tournament that weekend any way. Those of us left at home cleaned house and ordered carryout. I was feeling some of that Catholic guilt. March 19th rolled around and I couldn't bear to let it pass.
My grandmother taught me about St. Joseph. She was devoted to him. And when she knew that her time on earth had come to an end, she marched into the Mayo Clinic and informed the doctor that she was dying. He assured her that she was not. And then, she died. Just like that. On March 19th. That was 21 years ago. And my Italian grandmother has inspired a St. Joseph feast on the anniversary of her death every year. She didn't die on March 15th. She died on March 19th, the day after we'd talked long into the night, discussing wedding plans. The day after she promised me as she had so many times before that she'd dance at my wedding. It was March 19th.
Almost without thinking, I went to the store and bought the ingredients for Bolognese sauce. I cooked all day and filled the house with the familiar smell of an Italian grandmother's kitchen. I sliced a piece of Italian bread and dipped it in the sauce and handed it to my toddler. Her eyes grew wide in appreciation. I remembered how many such pieces of bread my grandmother had handed me. This is my solemn duty--to be certain my children know the taste of Italy.
By then, I was in it. We were going to have a feast despite ourselves. I whipped a half gallon of softened vanilla ice cream with two cups of heavy whipping cream and two teaspoons of almond extract. Katie and Mary Beth helped me ladle the mixture into star-shaped aluminum molds. We sprinkled sliced almonds on top. This is not real bisque tortoni. It's Mama's Made Up Bisque Tortoni. But then again, it wasn't really the feast of St. Joseph either, was it?
It sounds delicious, Elizabeth! I've always been rather fond of dear Saint Joseph, my birthday being March 19th and all!
Posted by: Jennifer | March 24, 2008 at 03:00 PM
What an absolutely beautiful story. I too have a special place in my heart for St. Joseph, having our family priest, Fr. Joseph marry us, and giving my son the middle name of Joseph. Marrying into an Italian family, I understand the food concept too. Sounds like your day was perfect.
Posted by: Kristine | March 25, 2008 at 03:16 PM