Vale to my great-uncle, Vincenzo, Nanna Francesca’s brother, who she called, Vinchy. Some may recall I wrote about him in my first two books, especially Joe’s Fruit Shop and Milk Bar. To me, he was a quiet, gentle man for whom life was often difficult but he worked hard and was generous in giving lovely gifts with the little he had.
His two great loves in life were photography and ballroom dancing. Vince was such a good dancer he was asked to be an instructor but declined, likely due to his shyness. (He told me he kept a tiny piece of the dance floor from Cloudland after it was tragically demolished.)
I can still see him working hard helping make the bottles of sauce on tomato day, making crostoli with Nanna Francesca in her kitchen, the two of them talking in Italian and sometimes squabbling. (She took over care of him after he’d lost both their parents by the young age of sixteen.) And Vince always helped out on top of his own factory work – whether in the milk bar or building the flats.
In recent years, he’s been living in aged care and it was a pleasure for Roger and me to hear his stories and look at old photos together when we’d visit. (He’s the one I dedicated, The Proxy Bride to.) I’d bring him Italian foods that he missed like his favourite black olives, crostoli and even pasta I made like his Mum used to. (There was never traditional pasta on the nursing home menu!!)
One thing I won’t forget about Vince is his fabulous hair – he was a bit like an ‘Italian Elvis’ in his younger days – and kept his hair into his eighties and it wasn’t even all grey! – perhaps due to Californian Poppy or Old Spice hair cream he used. 🙂 There’s a lovely recollection I have of him being at the beach with us that I put into a paragraph in Mezza Italiana…
“I have treasured memories of swimming in the surf with my father, my grandfather and Nanna Francesca’s younger brother, my great uncle Vincenzo. I’d look across the waves to see the two balding, bobbing heads of my Dad and Nonno Anni and then Vince, whose thick black hair always looked slicked back whether it was from seawater or Californian Poppy. Nanna Francesca stood at the shore, refusing to go more than knee deep, shrieking at me to be careful. Embarrassed, I dived under waves, probably adding to her worry, while Nonno Anni yelled back to her, ‘Lasciala stare!’ This made me even more self-conscious as several freckled Australian faces would look over in surprise to hear a foreign language shouted across the waves.”
It’s funny but back in the early 1980s I’d feel self-conscious about three generations of my Italian family setting up at the beach for the day, yet now I’m really grateful for those times of us all together. So I’ll end here with that memory – with thanks to prozio Vincenzo for his love and kindnesses. 💙 xx
There’s so much I love about this photograph taken in the Brisbane backyard of Granny Maddalena and Nonno Vitale’s house… everyone under the Hills hoist, Granny bending over giggling, the woman’s arm around her. Nonno Anni looking over to see what they’re laughing at, Nanna Francesca always ready for the camera, holding the young boy who doesn’t look so keen to be in the photo.
It was actually Nonno Anni who originally gave me the idea for, The Proxy Bride. When I was talking to him about his life for Joe’s, he mentioned by chance that during WW2 when he and other Italian men were taken from farms around Stanthorpe and sent to internment camps, the women and children suddenly left alone did it very tough. He later heard they were given no assistance and with curfews and restrictions weren’t allowed to drive, many didn’t know how to use the farm equipment or ride a horse and faced poverty and starvation. He mentioned this group of women who banded together to keep their farms going. That really struck me and I felt I’d come back and write about it. When I learnt that some of these women were also proxy brides, it opened up more to the story.
Melanzane fritte – made with eggplants from the backyard vegie patch, just like the crumbed, fried eggplant slices that Nonna Gia and Sofie cook together in, The Proxy Bride. I’ve put these ones on one of Nanna Francesca’s plates and next to them is a little pot I bought in Italy to stand in as a ‘chilli pot’ (though I confess mine has salt in it at present!)
‘Helping Dad’. 😄 (Got to love that 1970s wallpaper. And the Band-Aid on the knee!) Buona festa del papà. 💕 Warmest wishes on this Father’s Day to our fathers and grandfathers present and past, our father figures, those of us who’d hoped to be fathers and all who are caring for and protecting children. Grazie eterni, Dad. 💙 Zoe xx
On the kitchen table today… roses and lemons from a friend’s garden. (With glorious fresh, crisp and sweet musky scents!) The vase came from Nanna Francesca’s ‘good cabinet’ and was a bonbonniere from a 1970s or 80s Italian wedding. (Some will remember those!) It’s 
On the kitchen table today… a friend’s home-grown lemons and mandarins on one of Nanna Francesca’s 1950s dinner plates. So lovely when someone brings you fruit and flowers they’ve grown in their garden. To me they’re the perfect gifts. (And the fresh, crisp lemon scent currently in the kitchen is divine!) 🍋
Zoe xx
Spaghetti squash… a sunny winter vegetable. It grows on a vine like pumpkin and has yellow, star-shaped blossoms that only open for one day. Love how, once tender, you can gently fork the strands from the sides to create spaghetti in its own bowl.
On the kitchen table… a couple of pumpkins we bought from a farmer’s roadside ute near Esk. I love being able to buy straight from a farm ingredients that are in season at their peak and pumpkins even have autumn colours! These will help make many meals but my first thought was pumpkin and ricotta crespelle with crispy sage leaves and a little Parmigiano on top. (Luckily Roger is a fine maker of crespelle, crepes, or scrippelle as they’re called in Abruzzo.)
As promised, the first steps in making wine this summer, taught the old-style way by Nonno Anni and older Italians…
Verso buoni finali e buoni inizi! To good endings and good beginnings (and good coffee too!) What a time it is at present. “Mamma mia!” as Nanna Francesca would say, while Nonno Anni would likely raise his hands, palms up, as if all we can do is get on with it as best we can.
Zoë Boccabella 