{"id":467,"date":"2019-04-03T21:01:08","date_gmt":"2019-04-04T01:01:08","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.jordanstovka.com\/steepedinsound\/?p=467"},"modified":"2020-08-08T16:59:43","modified_gmt":"2020-08-08T20:59:43","slug":"mangiare","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.jordanstovka.com\/steepedinsound\/mangiare\/","title":{"rendered":"mangiare"},"content":{"rendered":"

Growing up in an Italian household, I\u2019ve been raised with a plethora of wholesome values, the biggest of which being a passionate appreciation for food.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Food traditionally brings people together. Despite anyone\u2019s busy schedule, no rational person can turn away a pot of pasta with oven roasted marinara sauce. No argument can ruin a platter of caprese salad with home grown beefsteak tomatoes. No conversation can lull while in the presence of fresh Italian bread and savory dipping oils.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And most importantly, no disagreement can withstand a bottle of good, strong vino.<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019ve taken advantage of my family dinners around my grandmother\u2019s homemade gnocci, spending an obscene amount of time and money selecting imported cheeses at ethnic grocery stores for get togethers, and having panettone as a special treat on Christmas morning.<\/span><\/p>\n

For most of my childhood, I thought that because this was my normal, it was everyone\u2019s <\/i>normal. I\u2019ve spent a good part of my life desensitized to my European heritage, and it wasn\u2019t until my family\u2019s recent pilgrimage to the old country that I began to not only understand but embrace it.<\/span>\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Our grandiose two week Italian adventure encompassed all the major tourist sites: we gawked at the Sistine Chapel, rode a Venetian gondola, sipped limoncello along the Amalfi Coast, watched the sun set behind the Trevi Fountain.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

We indulged in the finest Italian cuisine: daily gelato of exotic flavors, countless slices of Neapolitan pizza, gallons of cappuccinos and buckets of red wine. We dined everywhere from five star vineyards rested on Mount Vesuvius to cheesy tourist traps in claustrophobic Venetian alleyways.<\/span><\/p>\n

Yet the my most vivid and favorite culinary memory I have is one of Pescocostanzo, a quaint town nestled in the mountains of Italy\u2019s Abruzzo region.<\/span><\/p>\n

Pescocostanzo is rich in its history, unique in its lifestyle and charming in its simplicity. And it was here that my grandfather was raised before he immigrated to the United States at the age of 15.<\/span>
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