Book of Days

My grandmother was born in Italy at the turn of the last century on the Feast of the Assumption, is today, the 15th of August. Her parents named her for the day; they named her Assunta. She was a small woman who was suspicious of most forms of speedy transportation, including escalators, and yet brave enough to leave all she knew to sail to this country with my grandfather and their newborn child, my aunt. They didn’t bring much with them, either: as far as I know, all they brought was clothing and as for possessions, Grandpa brought an old ceramic wine jug and Grandma, a silver serving fork and carving knife. When they came here to start anew, they really meant it.

I don’t know if this is traditional for the Feast of the Assumption or if it was just traditional for Assunta’s birthday, but most years, it seems, we celebrated Grandma’s birthday with a dinner made from cucuzza longa, which is a wonderful pale green Italian squash that is ripening this time of year. It’s not terribly common, but it should be: more difficult children would eat their vegetables if cucuzzi longa were among them. They can grow to be two or three feet long; some are straight as baseball bats while others grow into delightfully twisty shapes, like serpents. Grandma (and now my mom) would cut them into long strips and cook them on the stove with a scramble of eggs and parmesan and lots of Italian parsley, the flat leaf kind. Seasoned with fresh olive oil and salt and pepper and served alongside a crusty loaf, you’ve got a meal fit for a king. Or at least a king with peasant roots. This is the food I grew up with: hearty peasant fare that my more American friends never understood, and that is, very likely, not even familiar to kids in the south of Italy these days.

As for the Feast of the Assumption, it is a holy day of obligation in the Catholic Church. It marks the day of Mary’s ascent, body and soul, into Heaven. The idea behind the day is that if Mary could do it, perhaps so can we. Mary is like us, a mortal born of this earth; she is our link between Earth and Heaven. In Italy, the day marks the beginning of Ferragosto. Most Italians close up shop and head to the seaside for the Ferragosto holiday, a practice dating back to ancient Rome. The name, in fact, is derived from the Latin Feriae Augusti (Holidays of the Emperor Augustus).

And as for the cucuzza longa, if you can’t find it, zucchini will do nicely. You can still use “cucuzza” as a term of endearment, as many Italians do. But if you’re at the farmer’s market this week and see this bizarre vegetable, why not muster up that enterprising spirit and buy one or two? Assunta would be very impressed with your bravery, and will certainly smile upon your culinary efforts. What can possibly go wrong?

Image: Anna & Vincenzo, my great grandparents, who named their daughter Assunta.