Time Slips, While Tradition Sticks
Biography
Over time, people tend to lose a sense of where they come from. They lose track of their roots, ancestors, and old memories that may no longer seem to be important. However, it takes a special kind of appreciation to recognize all the hard work, trying times, and sacrifices our ancestors made to get to America. If it wasn’t for my great-grandfather’s decision to settle down in Aliquippa, Pennsylvania, he would have never had the opportunity to work his way up in the steel mills, and I never may have been able to attend the University of Georgia.
It was June 17th, 2007, the day of my tenth birthday. I had been living on this Earth for a full decade, and I was already born and raised to be an Italian in blood and mind. My last name is Manfredi, and my mother’s maiden name is Catanzaro. I don’t have to tell you what country those names are for you to know where they originate. At the time of my tenth birthday I was living in a small, blue house on Jefferson Avenue in Cherry Hill, New Jersey. All of my friends had Italian last names, such as Abruzzi, Spiotto, Abbruzzese, etc. To me, it seemed as if everyone in America was of Italian origin.
The only food I ever really ate was Italian, so it seemed appropriate that for my 10th birthday I would finally be taught to cook Italian food. I had seen my dad make pasta sauce and spaghetti a thousand times, but it seemed like rocket science to me. My dad rounds up the ingredients and lays them on the table. I was ready to begin, and off we went. My dad did not know it, but in another ten years, as I am writing this paper, I would be the sole Italian chef of our family.
Each time I am preparing the pasta for our weekly family feasts in Athens, Georgia, I think back to Potenza, Italy where my great-granddad’s family lived for centuries before coming to America. I can imagine them preparing the same meal that I was making using the exact same recipes. The food is the exact same, the only difference is location. It is amazing how time goes on and people change, but their roots always stick with them no matter what.
