Because she never learned to read in English, Grandma appeared to be uninterested in politics. Nonetheless, politicians frequently stopped by for her Friday night puttanesca, an Italian dish of spaghetti, anchovies, olives and capers. During election season, she made this meal in huge vats. On Saturday, neighbors would stop by to ask her opinions. Little thoughts and gestures from Grandma could set people thinking in a voters’ world that relied more on gossip than facts.
Despite backroom politics — as well as heated discussions at men’s private Italian clubs — women would pry Gram for inside information.
Gram would say, “We never know what goes on behind closed doors.”
And if she did not answer in words, it was never a good sign when she tilted her head, shrugged her shoulders, and threw up her hands.
During one particular race, neighbors pushed her for an answer as to her favorite candidate. She smiled and said, “You know I don’t take sides. They are both good men. They often sit at my table. But only one brings his wife — and even his mother.”
“Ahh, that tells us everything,” they nodded.
After every election, Grandma would receive a large basket of fall fruit and flowers.
Many years later, Gram’s influence was still talked about. When I returned to New Haven from New York, where I had been studying, I became involved in a medical center expansion project. The center, focusing on drug treatment research, was tied up by “not in my backyard” activists.
At a crucial meeting of politicians and physicians, when the mayor arrived — even before we introduced ourselves — he looked at me and said, “Little lady, do you have a family recipe for spaghetti and anchovies from your grandmother Nancy? You look just like her.”
Before answering, he told the story of political puttanesca. “Gentleman, if you were running for office some years back, you simply had to knock on the door of Nancy and Anthony and join the family. There was always room for one more.”
“Our family was another story. We were not in politics back then. We had very little money. But every Friday night, her nonna sent over a pot of spaghetti and anchovies and we feasted.”
Then he raised his eyes to the heavens and said, “Nancy, thank you, we are going to make the new center a reality — the puttanesca center.”
Amid laughter and applause, he turned to me and said, “I have just one request — her recipe.”
The mayor was given the recipe. The center was built. And on that day, years later, Gram’s often repeated words rang true: “Give to others and goodness will come back to you.”
Rita Esposito Watson, a Providence Journal and PsychologyToday.com columnist, is writing, “Italian Kisses: Gram’s Wisdom.”
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Rita Watson: Memories of Grandma: Published on 02 November 2014