Category Archives: St. Joseph’s Day

Approach of Spring, & San Giuzeppole

It’s the 19th of March: St. Joseph’s Day. And what St. Patrick’s Day is to the Irish, so St. Joseph’s Day is to the Italians. In Sicily, folks will be eating Pasta con le Sarde: very often Bucatini, and always with chopped sardines and anchovies, with chopped fennel, raisins, and saffron: flavors which nod to the Arabic influence upon Sicily and the rest of Southern Italy (from where my family hails). This pasta dish, which is topped with toasted breadcrumbs (to symbolize St. Joseph’s carpentry sawdust) is particularly Sicilian.

My Grandma Cutrone, who was from Palo del Colle, in Apulia, near Bari, would build an altar to St. Joseph in her home each March, and to all the visitors who came to see it, she would give oranges and boxes of animal crackers. This was before my time, so I never got to see the altar, save for in poorly-lit silent 8 mm home movies, nor did I ever get to ask why the animal crackers, though I can guess why the oranges: oranges, for centuries before they were commonplace, were beautiful, valuable gifts that symbolized the golden sun and its promised return after a long winter. Oranges made lovely gifts at Christmastime, and, I imagine, were just as welcome at the start of Spring.

St. Joseph’s Day is also Father’s Day in Italy, which is fitting, as Joseph was Mary’s husband and foster father to her son, Jesus. One of my favorite songs for the day is an old carol for Christmas called “The Cherry Tree Carol.” In it, Joseph is so very human and he comes across as a real jerk until he comes to understand, thanks to the cherry tree’s bowing down, the greater mystery he has become part of. It’s a song that’s been sung for many centuries, but I have two favorite recordings of it. One is by Emmylou Harris and is just so beautifully done. The other is from a Christmas Revels performance called Ribbon of Highway. It’s sung by Charmaine Li-Lei Slaven and I just love her emphasis on Joseph’s standing around while Mary gathers cherries… Joseph’s grumpiness and humanity really shines through in Charmaine’s version.

We call St. Joseph “San Giuseppe,” and while my family does not make Pasta con le Sarde (we are not Sicilian, after all) for St. Joseph’s Day, we will enjoy Zeppole di San Giuseppe. We make zeppole at New Year’s Eve, too, but Zeppole di San Giuseppe are different: these are delicious pastries that are filled with custard and Amarena cherries. They are Lenten treats that are meant to be eaten just on and around the 19th of March, though some Italian bakeries now bake them all year long (which, as you might imagine, I do not approve of). Seth has come to call the day San Giuzeppole Day (and that I do approve of). If you do nothing else today to celebrate, find yourself an Italian bakery and buy some Zeppole di San Giuseppe (or Sfingi di San Giuseppe, which are filled with sweet ricotta cream (like cannoli), rather than custard) and be sure to serve your pastries with strong espresso. Perfetto!

This year, as is often the case, San Giuseppe welcomes us to Spring, for the next day, March 20 at 5:01 AM Eastern Daylight Time, will bring the Vernal Equinox to the Northern Hemisphere and a brief period of roughly balanced sunlight and darkness across the globe. It is the start of Spring by the almanac for us, while in the Southern Hemisphere, it is the start of Autumn. The Wheel of the Year never ceases its slow turning, and now, once we pass this equinox moment, our Northern Hemisphere days begin to log more daylight hours than night. We are halfway between the Midwinter Solstice we left in December and the Midsummer Solstice we approach in June. But San Giuseppe, he begs us to put the Moka pot on the stove, brew an espresso with a nice crema, perhaps, and sit at the table and visit with friends and family and some zeppole. There is plenty of time for work, and plenty of time for Lenten austerity. Today, we get to enjoy ourselves.

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Those are my sister Marietta’s homemade Zeppole di San Giuseppe in the photo above. So good!

A reminder that our shop will be closed for the rest of March, but we will reopen again on the First Saturday of April, and indeed all the Saturdays of April, for our Springtide Saturdays series. Your online orders are still welcome, and we will be filling orders this week, but orders placed on March 20 or later won’t be filled until the first week of April.

We also have two in-house workshops coming up this spring! Collagraph Printmaking with instructor Kim Spivey is on Sunday April 6, and I’ll be teaching a workshop called Pure Bookbinding (these are books made without adhesive) on Sunday May 4.

 

It’s Laetare Sunday, and Mother’s Day in the UK, Father’s Day in Italy

It’s Midlent: The Fourth Sunday of Lent, and halfway through our Lenten journey we get a Sunday whose color is rose, the color of joy, rather than penitent purple. A little break, a small reprieve, in celebration of being midway through. The day is called Laetare Sunday, a name derived from the first few words of the Mass for this day, in Latin: It is Isaiah 66:10: Laetare Jerusalem (“Rejoice, O Jerusalem”). It’s the day when folks in the United Kingdom honor their mothers: Mothering Sunday, they call it. And this year, Laetare Sunday happens to fall on St. Joseph’s Day. San Giuseppe, sacred to Italy, where today is Father’s Day, in honor of the saint who was foster father to Jesus.

I apologize for not writing more this past week, when we honored St. Patrick, of course, and one day before that, St. Urho, whom the Finns know as the saint who drove the grasshoppers out of Finland. Either St. Urho has not gotten as much publicity as Patrick, or he is completely fictional: we’ll leave that up to you. Of St. Joseph, though, we can be certain, and we can be certain, too, that it is a day to find a good Italian bakery and some zeppole to enjoy with your after-dinner espresso tonight. We Italians consume zeppole in great quantities on this day, and there is nothing quite like being in an Italian bakery on this feast day and witnessing the rolling racks filled with zeppole: delicately light pastries filled with custard and garnished with cherries, or their lesser known cousins, sfinci, the same delicate pastry filled not with custard but with sweet ricotta, like cannoli. These things make us swoon this one day each spring. We are a dramatic, operatic people and the Festa di San Giuseppe is one of our annual highlights (and surprise: it revolves around food).

And by Monday it will be spring by the almanac: Balance comes to this old earth Monday, March 20, at 5:24 PM Eastern. Day and night roughly equal from North Pole to South, for just a short time, and then our Northern Hemisphere days grow longer than our nights as we make our way toward the Midsummer Solstice of June. The constant rearrange, so subtle we barely perceive it until we sit back and ponder it in the blocks of time we call seasons. These things will never cease to amaze me.

It was last summer that we were going to have our annual Wayzgoose at the Jaffe Center for Book Arts –– an online video event featuring the fabulous letterpress printer Jennifer Farrell of Starshaped Press in Chicago with music by singer/songwriter and recording artist Patty Larkin and me as host –– but Patty Larkin suffered a terrible accident before we could film the Wayzgoose last summer. It was obvious to me that we had to wait for Patty to recover. “No Patty Larkin, no Wayzgoose.” She had a long road ahead of her, but she did it. Patty’s been touring again, and earlier this winter, she recorded her Wayzgoose concert for us. In the meantime, I recorded my interview with Jen Farrell, and still these past few weeks I’ve been filming and editing, and the last edits will be coming at a more furious pace these next few days, all so we can have the Wayzgoose ready for its March 25 World Premiere. Won’t you join us? You can watch from anywhere in the world, and if you join us at 7 Eastern on Saturday, you’ll be part of a worldwide wave of viewers celebrating good print and good music. Click here to learn more and to watch on Saturday at 7. (The premiere takes place at the Jaffe Center’s website.)

I have a suggestion for your Saturday viewing party: Fix yourself and for those watching with you a steaming plate of waffles. I’ll explain why at the Wayzgoose. The Wayzgoose traditionally falls on Bartlemas, St. Bartholomew’s Day –– a very quirky day in the Round of the Year if ever there was one. And when it came to rescheduling this Wayzgoose, I chose the 25th of March for similar reasons. Trust me: make the waffles, serve them with maple syrup or with ice cream, then sit down with us at 7 on Saturday evening to watch. You’ll love the work of Jennifer Farrell and Patty Larkin’s concert will have you beaming… and you will appreciate the waffle connexion.

So many good wishes for you this day and this coming week!
John

COME SEE US! Find us on Saturday April 1 at JOHAN’S JOE in Downtown West Palm Beach from 7 AM to 3 PM for a little Springtime Market that Johan’s Joe and Convivio Bookworks are hosting together. We had a Christmas Market last December and it was so much fun and we met so many wonderful people, we’ve decided to collaborate again for Easter. We’ll have all our handcrafted goods for spring and Easter there from Germany, Sweden, and Ukraine.

SAVE ONLINE! At our online catalog, save $10 off your purchase of $85 or more, plus get free domestic shipping, too, when you use discount code BUNNY at checkout. It’s our Zippin’ Into Springtime Sale, good on everything in the shop, now through Easter (and probably a bit beyond, too). CLICK HERE to shop! And don’t forget to use discount code BUNNY at checkout if your order is $85 or more.

 

Zeppole e Sfinci

Images: Zeppole and sfinci, above. The zeppole are more popular; the sfinci at this bakery are identified by green candied cherries. Top: “Stasera Zeppole” translates to “Tonight Zeppole.” The photograph of a baker’s storefront window was taken by Giovanni Dall’Orto in Syracuse, Sicily.

 

 

One Year In, Three Saints’ Days Return

It is a year ago now that our Covid-19 isolation began, and when I sat down today to write about St. Urho’s Day, which comes each 16th of March, I got reacquainted with the Convivio Book of Days chapter I sent out on this day last year. Reading it again reminds me of just how far we’ve come to get here today. It made me feel like we’ve learnt so much, like we’ve done so much… so I decided to share that same story with you here today, too, in hopes it makes you feel a bit of triumph as well. 

You’ll read about the Kibble Game, but in the year that’s passed, Haden the Convivio Shopcat has decided she’s not so crazy for kibble, and so we no longer play that game. She’s 15 now and though she’s in great health, she does have an underlying condition that requires us to give her 200 ml. of fluids each day, subcutaneously, and a dose of compounded liquid medicine. The medicine is chicken flavored, but still she hates it. And while we may not play the Kibble Game any more, last night was kind of like a game of professional football: Seth at one end of the kitchen, me at the other, Haden running back and forth between the goal posts until Seth finally dove and tackled her at the end zone. Never a lack of excitement here. (The picture above, by the way, is Haden, content, in one of several favorite napping spots in the house––she is her good old self as long as she has her fluids and meds to keep her gut feeling well. If you know a way we could successfully explain that to her, perhaps she’d come around willingly for her treatments.)

The bookstore downtown that we almost bought? That’s closed now. Lots of my friends who own small local restaurants still are struggling. But there is light in the future, we all feel this. Things are looking better.

Most everything else, though, is the same, right down to my working on everyone’s taxes for the past few weekends. I guess we always have been well, even when things last year were looking bleak. We wish that same wellness for you. Read on, then. Allow yourself to feel a bit of nostalgia for when this weirdness all began, then read further for news on a couple of virtual events this week where we can all see each other again (at least on screen, and for now, I’ll take that). If you could join us, I’d like that a lot. ~ John

Convivio Book of Days, March 16, 2020:
St. Urho, St. Patrick, St. Joseph, and Tax Season

I’ve been working on taxes for the better part of several weekends now––my own, and my mom’s, and my sister’s. It has fallen upon me to do this––me, the most disorganized, least mathematical person in the family. But I find there is a certain satisfaction that comes each year with accomplishing this task; it appeals to the part of me that likes to cross things off lists. As in, check. Done. And though I do strive for accuracy, there comes a point each spring where I just decide that it is ok if the federal government receives a little more from me than it is entitled to. A bit of a well being tax, if you will. If it means I can stop thinking about numbers and depreciation and amortization, I feel it is money well spent.

And so it has come to pass that this afternoon, even in the midst of all the files and receipts and checkbooks spread upon the kitchen table, I have just finished playing the Kibble Game with the cat (I toss kibble, she chases it and hunts it down) and I have poured myself a tea bowl full of water, one of Seth’s fine pottery creations, spiked with lemonade, and I’ve put the oven on to reheat some leftover lasagna that my mother made. Seth is outside, working on a garden project. Not a bad Sunday afternoon, after all, despite taxes, and all that’s going on in the world.

It’s a strange time, isn’t it? We are celebrating this week’s saints’ days––days we would normally celebrate as extended family––apart, for the sake of preserving good health. Last night’s early St. Patrick’s Day dinner was canceled, but I did pick up from my mom and sister––while maintaining 6 feet of distance and touching no surfaces in the house––some of the corned beef and cabbage they made, and Marietta’s famous Irish Soda Bread. Not a drop of Irish blood in her, and yet my sister makes the best soda bread I’ve ever had. Each year, it just gets better and better. Seth and I had it with dinner last night and with breakfast this morning, warmed and buttered, and someday, when there is a Real Book version of the Convivio Book of Days, her recipe will be in it. Oh, maybe I’ll just give it to you today, so you can make it this week. We need things to celebrate, no? Even if we can’t these days gather together as much as we’d like, still it is important to appreciate the importance of that gathering. If we can’t do it together, perhaps we can do it virtually. We see these days so many reasons why the Internet and social media are unhealthy for us: the wholesale spread of rumors and bad information, the politicizing of tragedy, the fanning of flames of panic. I try my best to step away from all that, to not participate, and to focus on what is inherently good about contemporary modes of communication: we can, for instance, Skype with our loved ones while we have our own smaller, in-home celebrations. My mother and her sister are on Skype with each other most every night: a beautiful connexion from Florida to Illinois, the two DeLuca girls from East New York Avenue, in their 90s and still chatting with each other before bed. I love this. Sometimes they’re up way into the darkest hours of the night, my cousins and my Aunt Anne and my mom and my sister taking turns watching each other as they doze off on couches thousands of miles apart from each other. They don’t even have to talk. They just keep each other company. How wonderful that we can do this now, just be there for each other, even while apart.

And so what do we have this week to celebrate? To begin with, St. Urho’s Day on the 16th. Urho is the fictional saint of Finland, the Finns’ tongue in cheek answer to the infinitely more famous St. Patrick, whose day follows. St. Urho is said to have driven all the grasshoppers from Finland, saving the vineyards from certain destruction. It’s a holiday and a story you won’t know unless you live amongst Finns, as I do. To be honest, I don’t think you’ll find many vineyards in Finland, but St. Urho’s Day has become a day to celebrate the wine that comes from the fruit of vineyards, so go on, enjoy responsibly.

The next day, of course, brings St. Patrick’s Day. The celebrations this year will be considerably quieter than they typically are. A fine day to appreciate all things Irish. And then on the 19th, it’s St. Joseph’s Day. Father’s Day in Italy, a day when Italian bakers will be serving up zeppole and sfinci, the traditional pastries for San Giuseppe. This year for St. Joseph’s Day, it will be very quiet in Italy. If you do venture out here in the States, stop at an Italian bakery and get some pastry for the day. The bakers will appreciate it, and so will you. Just please, wash your hands after handling the bakery box. Take the advice of the Italian Nonna on YouTube (and yes, even my mother has had to give up the Kleenex she keeps in her sleeve).

So much has changed in our lives in such a short time. Socially, economically. For about a year now, Seth and I have been searching for a just-right public space for Convivio Bookworks, as it was feeling like time to move this small business out of our small house and into the broader world. We had been looking high and low through Lake Worth and West Palm Beach. If you had checked with us even just a month ago, we were giving serious consideration to a location on Lake Avenue, a sort of marriage of an existing bookish business with our own, creating a new spin on both, perhaps. We’ve put all these plans on hold, I suppose indefinitely. Making a business move like this is an expensive step, and we don’t have much to work with. Whenever we do make that leap, rest assured it will be a highly calculated move (there are those numbers, again).

And so we continue to do what we do. When you get right down to it, it’s kind of exciting to live in a tiny house and run a business out of it. Open up a closet and you’ll find bed linens and Dia de Muertos ofrenda figures. In the cupboard in the living room, there’s the china and the cutlery… oh and all the handpainted pysanky eggs from Ukraine. It can get dicey at times when someone orders something and I forget where it is. The only guarantee is that when I stored it away, I put it in a very logical place. It’s the logic that is fleeting and ephemeral, for me, anyway.

Please stay well, act wisely, mind your way in this world. And wash your hands (addendum March 16, 2021: And wear your mask!). Much love to you all. Now go. Bake some soda bread.

MARIETTA’S IRISH SODA BREAD

5 cups flour (plus up to an additional cup, depending on stickiness of dough)
3 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
¾ teaspoon baking soda
6 tablespoons butter or shortening
1 cup raisins
1 tablespoon caraway seeds (optional)
2 eggs, beaten (reserve 1 tablespoon for later)
1 ½ cups milk (or buttermilk, if you have it)

If you’re using a stand mixer, place all ingredients in the mixing bowl (except for reserved tablespoon of egg) and mix. Start with 5 cups of flour, adding up to an additional cup, if necessary, if dough is sticky. Next, using dough hook, knead in bowl for a minute or so.

If, like me, you have to mix things by hand, mix flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and baking soda in a large bowl. With a pastry blender, cut in butter or shortening until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Stir in raisins and caraway seeds. Add beaten eggs (be sure to reserve 1 tablespoon of beaten egg for later), and then add the milk or buttermilk. Mix well. If the dough is very sticky, add up to 1 additional cup of flour, a little at a time.

Meanwhile, preheat oven to 350 F and butter a 2-quart round casserole; set aside. Flour a board and turn out dough onto it; knead for about a minute. Shape into a ball. Place the dough in the casserole, and in the center of the dough, with a sharp knife, cut a cross about 4” long and ½” deep. Brush dough with reserved egg.

Bake about 1 hour and 20 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the bread comes out dry. Cool in casserole on wire rack for 10 minutes, then remove from the casserole and cool further on rack.

The image for last year’s version of this chapter featured Haden the Convivio Shopcat, snoozing atop some of the boxes of Convivio Bookworks inventory we keep in the house. I figured I’d update the image this time around, so here’s a new favored place for her catnaps: between the wall and a cupboard in our bedroom is where we stack duffel bags, winter clothes, and four chair cushions, to within three feet of the ceiling. (It’s a small old house with hardly any closet space, so we’ve got to be creative in our storage solutions.) These days, Haden likes to sleep atop the cushions, close to the ceiling. We call this “smooshin’ the cushions.” The image just above: one of four (!) Irish Soda Breads my sister Marietta has baked this week.

Please join us, virtually!

Addendum March 16, 2021: You are cordially invited to gather with us virtually for two events this week: On Wednesday, March 17 at 3 PM Eastern, I’ll be broadcasting Book Arts 101: Urho, Patrick, Giuseppe live from the studios of Convivio Bookworks. I’ll be chatting and showing artists’ books from the Jaffe Center for Book Arts that are related to Finland, Ireland, and Italy. You have to register to watch the live broadcast on Zoom… click here to do so. It should also be simulcast live on our Convivio Bookworks Facebook page (fingers crossed).

And then on Friday, March 19, join us for the Jaffe Center’s weekly virtual Real Mail Fridays letter writing social. This week’s social is a special one for St. Joseph’s Day with a theme influenced by the 1987 Norman Jewison film Moonstruck… for these are my people. I relate to them. I’ll be playing a setlist of Italian music while we gather to do whatever it is we need to do: it’s a letter writing social, but the folks who join in are not necessarily writing letters. Some are binding books, some are doing homework, some are baking. People come because it is a chance to get together and feel part of something. It’s an amazingly calming and heartwarming way to wrap up your week. Click here to join us (it’s the same Zoom link each and every Friday).

Springtime Stock-Up Sale continues at the Convivio Bookworks online catalog! $10 off $65 on anything in the shop when you use discount code BUNNY, plus free domestic shipping. We appreciate your support!