Ciao!...And Happy Thanksgiving

I wrote this one after a memorable Thanksgiving back in 2007, a couple of years before the Church of Scientology bought the Braley Building in Old Town Pasadena, sending friends and family (and the best Sicilian pizzeria ever) up to Newcastle, outside of Sacramento, but never outside of my heart.

Ciao…and Happy Thanksgiving

Don’t know about you guys but my Thanksgiving was awesome. My Aunt Clara (born while Archduke Franz Ferdinand still had a pulse) and I were guests of my fave restaurateurs and family.

Our hosts, Cesare and Suzanne Di Lorenzo, own La Fornaretta Sicilian Pizzeria in Old Town Pasadena. And being a friend of the family these days goes a long way toward supporting the assertion that opportunity is often around if you’re open to it…even during the toughest of times.

I began my La Fornaretta experience about nine years ago when my Mom was spending considerable time in and out of Huntington Memorial Hospital and later at a nearby convalescent facility. But the story starts much earlier.

Since back in 1976, about three months into my new dental practice, it was only Mom and me. When our little family also included Dad and my brother Jay we were always in the sports mode; even though when I was much younger, Mom and I would’ve been just as happy taking in an Elvis double feature in front of the big screen . After ’76, spending Sundays with Mom became a standing “movies and dinner” date; most of the time the dinners were homemade.

Mom used recipes that went all the way back to her Mother’s Piana degli Albanesi Sicilian roots. And I was always taken by the effort Mom put into preparing a meal for our family; seemed like the tasting pleasure that always mattered most was ours, not the chef’s.

Our Sunday dates continued even as Mom battled the relentless consequences of diabetes, but our choices became more and more limited. We grudgingly wound up spending more VHS time; we missed eating out and missed eating the homemade pasta even more. But we didn’t have to miss each other. I can still remember sitting together out in the Sunday sun over at the Huntington Memorial courtyard and soaking up every precious moment.

I guess I was really looking for something I somehow knew I needed that first time I walked through the door at La Fornaretta. Several gym friends had urged me to give the place a try.

Until that first Sunday, I rarely ventured into a restaurant without a date; just wasn’t that comfortable with myself or confident enough to pull off such a simple pleasure. Everything changed the minute I walked into the warm cozy confines of a pizzeria embodied with an aroma that took me back home…on Sundays.

So Sundays are still special; the time’s not negotiable. Unless it’s a trip to South Bend or some serious continuing education, Sunday morning is all about the Times and my writing, afternoons are for the movies and working out…and the evenings are reserved for La Fornaretta…and family.

The Di Lorenzos have created something beautiful and original in La Fornaretta; and without their generosity, I can’t imagine what Mondays would look like.

“Cesare and Suzanna, thanks for a wonderful Thanksgiving, the company of your beautiful family and the kind of hospitality that makes your slice of Pasadena seem like the Old Country.”

As I was driving home my Aunt Clara (now 100-years old), who had never spent Thanksgiving away from our own family, couldn’t get over how much at home she felt last Thursday.

All I could do was smile and agree.