Preparing for the feast of Sans Giuseppe on March 19 this Main Street was ready to light it up at night.
The documents we provided Gianni could be read and he research and walked the streets looking for clues which he found.
Mia Familiga are Catholics. Every day like most 95% of Sicily they go to church. Faith was very important.
Looking thru the age and decay of the corner street sign reveals the street name. Some have been painted over or changed but the signs are there to support the street name according to the document we provided Gianni. We were walking on the very same street when my grandmother was born. Pinch me moments.
Zoom in and look at the small writing under the larger text. Basically it says Fish Street. My grandfather Carmelo Triolo was born on this street. Pinch me again. Small narrow streets in the home is where babies were born. No hospitals. Amazing. This is the same town where Francisco Crispi was born. He was nearly a facist and disliked and not trusted. His home below is represented here.
Gianni took us and bought this bread for us to try. A yellow golden hue this bread is the trophy of Sicily. The area is known and the bread basket of Roma.
I’m standing against the wall taking this picture. There is no room for more than a small elevators worth of people.
I have a thing for doors. This door above though is special.
Freshly prepared with a bottle of regional white wine we were stuffed.
All prepared fresh for us to experience Sicilian food in season. That’s how they ate. Seasonal ingredients that are available. And PASTA of course.
Sans Guesippi
