I spent a couple of hours yesterday, the 14th of August, in pursuit of cucuzza longa, the odd, obscure vegetable that Italians love to cook for the Feast of the Assumption. My best hope, I thought, would be the Italian market up in Palm Beach Gardens. That’s not close by.
“Why don’t you just call before you go?” Seth suggested. I thought about it. In my head, I conjured a teenage girl at the market answering the phone. I’d ask, “Do you have cucuzza longa?” and she would say, “I’m sorry, what?” “Cucuzza longa,” I would say again. “You know, the long green vegetable that’s kind of like zucchini, but really it’s a gourd. For the Assumption. You know. Don’t you?”
Of course she wouldn’t know. Cucuzza longa is one of the bizarre Mediterranean things our ancestors left behind in the Old Country that didn’t quite translate to their new home. But a few of them longed for these things even after they set foot on American soil, and they continued to grow them in their backyard gardens. My grandfather did, anyway, and so did Rosa, the old woman with the rough hands that my mom would buy vegetables from each summer. Rosa would wrap all our purchases in newspaper and twine. The cucuzza, I remember, would stick out of the paper; there was too much vegetable, in that case, to wrap completely.
So I drove up to the market instead, feeling not very hopeful but at the same time half expecting to see a big, special display of cucuzza awaiting me as I walked through the doors. Alas, no luck. (The photo, in case you’re wondering, is a random find from the Internet––thank you Unknown Cucuzza Photographer.)
My grandmother was born on the 15th of August, 1898; her parents, my great-grandparents, gave her the name Assunta, for she was born on Azzunzione, the Feast of the Assumption, which comes every 15th of August. It is a holy day of obligation for us Catholics. The Church in America moves the date around so that it falls on a Sunday each year, but in Italy it remains the 15th of August, its proper day, and a national holiday. It is, as well, the start of Ferragosto, a time when most Italians close up shop and head to the seaside, a practice that goes back to the country’s Ancient Roman roots. The name Ferragosto, in fact, is derived from the Latin Feriae Augusti (Holidays of the Emperor Augustus).
The cucuzza longa in the picture above are each, no doubt, upwards of three feet long. They’re gourds, not squashes, and the plant’s flowers are white, not yellow like squash flowers. They can grow straight as bowling pins, yet some grow into curvy serpentine shapes. We peel them, cut them into long strips, and cook them up with a scramble of eggs, parmesan cheese, and lots of flat-leaf Italian parsley. Some fresh olive oil and salt and pepper complete the dish. Paired with a crusty loaf of bread, it is a very good meal, and it is traditional for the Feast of the Assumption (and for Grandma’s birthday). If you know of a source here in South Florida, please let me know. Next year, though, my plan is to grow my own cucuzza in my summer garden, right next to the okra and the sunflowers.
August 15th brings another transition of late summer into fall: the dog star, Sirius, has been rising together with the sun each morning for the past six weeks and now Sirius begins to emerge from the sun’s bright light and heat to rise independently. This six-week joining of stellar forces each summer is known as the Dog Days of Summer, a time when days are thought to be the sultriest. This year, here in Florida at least, that was certainly the case. Tomorrow, with Sirius’s first independent rising in weeks, the Dog Days are over, the Dog Days are done. For another year, at least.