Patch Blog: Another March Memory

You know; if it weren’t for St. Patrick’s and St. Joseph’s Days and a few basketball games that seldom include the Trojans, I could forget about the month of March altogether.

And if corned beef and cabbage are the delicacies of the day, then maybe St. Patty is slightly overrated.

Both my mom and dad didn’t quite make it to April showers the last year I could give my two heroes a hug.

This week, March proved to be selfish once again.

My friend Giovanni was one awesome dude and he had himself one inspired, inspiring life. And you know you’ve been lucky when in spite of your having crossed paths with folks only a handful of times, you know you’ll miss them forever.

Meeting Giovanni was kind of a long-shot. First, I met daughter Suzanne and son in-law Cesare and that was something of a long-shot too. And it’s important appreciating the folks who bring light into your life when things are darkest.

Back in 1998, Sunday afternoons reserved for Mom, the movies, and homemade pasta took a cruel detour, landing us in places like the Huntington Memorial Hospital and a nearby convalescent facility.

I guess I was looking for something I somehow really needed the first Sunday I walked through La Fornaretta’s front door, discovering the best Sicilian pizzeria I ever hope to find…right here in Old Town Pasadena.

There were precious few Sundays left for Mom and me and even though the La Fornaretta sugo sauce wasn’t hers, I know Mom would have loved it.

Cesare and Suzanne served up authentic Sicilian cuisine off an all-star home-made menu. But the warmth and comfort of family extended far beyond the exquisite penne Norma, the calamari that melted, and the tiramisu that was itself a religious experience.

La Fornaretta was like home. In fact, I’d never even enjoyed the simple pleasure of eating out alone until the restaurant family and I wound up adopting one another.

I met Giovanni one New Year’s Eve celebrated over at Suzanne’s house. Two years later Giovanni was there helping me live a dream; showing me the town, the people, and the food defining Piana degli Albanesi, home for my mom’s Sicilian clan.

Giovanni was a gourmet chef, the owner of multiple Bay area restaurants, and the developer of Boboli pizza crust. He came to the U.S. with little and made himself a success. He was larger than life. If you spent 5-minutes with Giovanni, you’d never forget him.

On that first day in Sicily, as Giovanni was driving me to Albanesi, speeding along high atop an elevated Palermo freeway, all the while looking me straight in the eye, he did manage to scare the living crap outa me just like Suzanne said he would.

But what I’ll always remember is the greatest guy in the world seriously reminding me to stop and smell the roses. More accurately, it went, “Jack, you are so freakin’ stupid; it’s not your life, it’s your job.”

Here’s to a fabulous life, a beautiful family and a world living high above corned beef and cabbage.

And I know it’s not much but every morning at the office before I do anything else, I’m gonna sit down and read the sports page over some Starbuck’s and an Italian cookie. When you’re being me, it’s not so easy not bein’ stupid; you have to start with little steps.

Great doesn’t come along every day around here…but I’ll forever be grateful that it crossed my path.

Grazie Giovanni.