Stella Mia

by Rosanna Chiofalo

  When it was time to vote on which student had the best essay, I was surprised that my class had unanimously voted mine the winner. But I reminded them the rules of our contest and that as the teacher, I could not win. So we took another vote and chose a different winner.

  Believe it or not, Daddy got remarried about a year after I returned from Sicily, and to none other than Penelope Anastasos! I guess it wasn’t that much of a shock to me that he had fallen for her. I eventually added two and two together after I overheard Kyle teasing Daddy about thinking of her too much and also after I met Penelope at Astoria Park, and she told me that Daddy had been visiting her at the café regularly. While Daddy was dating Penelope, he had a strong feeling he would ask her to marry him if things continued to go well between them. He was planning on finally getting a divorce from my mother. But then he received the news that Mama had passed away. Daddy actually cried when I told him over the phone. Though I knew he was no longer in love with her, he never really stopped caring about her.

  I also learned after returning from Sicily that Antoniella had found out that Daddy was a regular customer at Penelope’s café. Naturally, Antoniella blew up at Daddy and stopped talking to him. And whenever Antoniella crossed paths with Penelope on the street, she gave her the dirtiest looks. But Penelope smoothed things over when she asked Antoniella to make her wedding cake. Nothing makes Antoniella happier than making money—even if it’s from an enemy. But I think Antoniella also appreciated that Penelope was respecting her talents as a baker by asking Antoniella to make her wedding cake. The two women soon became friends, and Antoniella finally stopped fretting that she was losing business to Penelope’s café.

  After all these years of having Daddy to myself, it felt strange to see him remarry. But the feeling quickly vanished when I remembered there were times that I had worried about his being alone and never having loved another woman besides my mother. Now he would have the love he deserved to have—and should have had—a long time ago. My thoughts drift to my mother and Carlo. I think about how they were apart for all those years and how Mama and I were also separated for so long. All that wasted time only to be reunited and then to lose her again so quickly. Life is too short to spend it alone or apart from the people we love. I hope that Daddy and Penelope have more years together than Carlo or I had with my mother.

  A month after I returned from Sicily, Kyle and I moved back into our house since he had found another job and we were back on our feet financially. I was saddened to see that the grapevine in my father’s yard had inexplicably died while I was gone. Kyle assured me that both he and my father had been regularly tending to it, but no matter what they did, it just seemed to get weaker. The following year, the grapevine didn’t grow back. I couldn’t help but see the irony in it, since the grapevine had always been a reminder of my mother and now it had died just like she had.

  “Mama!”

  I’m startled out of my thoughts by my two-year-old daughter, Sarina, who runs to me. I pick her up and raise her high into the air, just like my mother had done with me all those years ago. She squeals and giggles. I then lower her and hold her against me. Sarina’s head nestles against my chest. The sun brings out the auburn highlights in her light brown hair. Like my mother, she has an olive complexion. But she has Kyle’s large blue eyes.

  I had found out I was pregnant a month and a half after Kyle and I returned to our house. We were both stunned since we had been trying to have a baby for so long to no avail. I had begun to think it simply wasn’t meant to be. It wasn’t until I was pregnant that I remembered the tarot card reading my mother had given me the night she died, and how she had predicted that I would have a transformative experience in the future. That experience was Sarina’s birth. It has changed me so much and given me new understanding, especially where my mother is concerned. For ever since Sarina was born, I have been filled with some anxiety, worried for my child and worried that I will not be a good mother. To think I had stood in this yard three years ago, fearing I would be a terrible mother if I ever had children because of how my own mother had left me. Once I had this epiphany, I understood the fear that had gripped Mama so tightly when she had hit me and thought she would become the abuser her father had been. My mother’s fears of being a bad mother no longer seemed so unjustified. And then I remembered how young she had been. She was seventeen years old when she married my father and eighteen when she gave birth to me. Though she was in her early twenties when she chose not to return to me, she still possessed the spirit and fears of that lost teenage girl who had run away from home, dreaming of a better life.

  While my healing began when I was in Sicily, reconnecting with my mother, I am still healing. Sometimes I still get sad for that little girl who had to grow up without the love of her mother. I have finally forgiven Mama. I only wish I had told her that before she died. But I was still trying to fully come to terms with her abandoning me and figuring out where she belonged in my life then. The time for regrets is over though. I made a promise to myself on the plane when I left Sicily that I would let go of the past and focus on the future. Having Sarina has definitely helped ease the ache of Mama’s loss.

  Kyle was a bit surprised when I told him I wanted to name our baby Sarina. But then I told him about Mama’s prediction when she read my tarot cards and how I couldn’t help feeling she had a hand in the miracle of our conceiving Sarina. It’s also my small way of showing my mother, wherever she is now, that I have forgiven her.

  My thoughts return to the grapevine. Ever since that first year when it didn’t grow back, I have tried to plant offshoots from the grapevine in one of my father’s neighbor’s yards to see if those would take hold. Finally this past spring, a grapevine is growing once again in Daddy’s garden. It is now August. The grapevine has grown, but it still has a few years to go until it becomes once again as lush and beautiful as the previous one was. But I have faith it will get there.

  I talk softly to my daughter as I take her hand and let her touch one of the grapevine’s leaves. “When you are older, Sarina, I will teach you how to garden and care for the grapevine. Then you can grow one in the yard of your home. This way you, too, can continue the tradition that Nonna Sarina started with this first grapevine. And I promise I will tell you all about your namesake—your Nonna Sarina—and what a fascinating life she led.”

  Sarina begins to cry. I rock her as I softly sing, “Stella mia, stell-ahhh mia, tu sei la piu bella stella. . . . My star, my star, you are the most beautiful star.”

  AUTHOR’S NOTES

  In Chapter 14 (“Furia dell’ Etna”) I mention that Mount Etna was erupting. I exercised creative license here since Mount Etna did not have any eruptions in 1969.

  In Chapter 17 (“Panarea and Filicudi”) I mention that there is no electricity in Filicudi. This was true in 1969, when the story took place. However, electricity did come to the island in 1986.

  RECIPES FOR STELLA MIA

  Tetu (Clove-Scented Chocolate Cookies)

  1 cup blanched whole almonds

  4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

  8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened

  2 ounces unsweetened chocolate

  1 cup milk

  1½ cups sugar

  1 teaspoon ground cloves

  2 teaspoons baking soda

  ½ teaspoon salt

  1 teaspoon vanilla

  1 egg, beaten lightly to blend

  GLAZE

  2 cups sugar

  1½ cups water

  12 ounces unsweetened chocolate, roughly chopped

  2 cups powdered sugar, sifted

  Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

  Spread the almonds on a baking sheet and toast in the oven for 15 to 20 minutes, or until well browned. Let cool. Grind the almonds to a coarse powder in a food processor or in a coffee grinder in small batches. Transfer to a large bowl, stir in the flour, and set aside.

  In a medium saucepan over low heat, melt the butter, c
hocolate, and milk, whisking until the butter is melted. Whisk in the sugar, remove from the heat, and let cool to lukewarm.

  Whisk the cloves, baking soda, salt, vanilla, and egg into the butter mixture. With a wooden spoon, stir the liquid ingredients into the flour-almond mixture just until combined. Chill the dough, covered, for 1 hour, or until easy to handle.

  Preheat the oven again to 375 degrees.

  Grease two baking sheets.

  Pinch off a tablespoonful of the dough at a time, roll between the palms of your hands into a smooth ball, and arrange balls 2 inches apart on the greased baking sheets.

  Bake the cookies for 15 minutes, or until puffy but still slightly soft in the center. Allow the cookies to cool for 10 minutes before removing them from the pan.

  Meanwhile, make the glaze: In a medium saucepan, bring the sugar and water to a boil, whisking constantly. Boil for 3 minutes, then remove from the heat and whisk in the chocolate until melted. Whisk in the powdered sugar until smooth.

  While the cookies are still warm, immerse them, a few at a time, in the warm glaze, then place them on a cooling rack over a baking sheet to catch the drips. It’s important that both the cookies and the glaze be warm so that some of the glaze soaks into the cookies. Cool on the rack.

  Makes about 3 dozen.

  Granita di Caffè (Coffee Granita)

  ¾ cup finely ground Italian espresso

  4 cups water

  2 tablespoons sugar, or to taste

  Whipped cream (optional)

  In an espresso maker or drip coffeepot, make coffee according to the manufacturer’s directions, using the espresso and water. Add the sugar if desired, and stir until dissolved. Let cool slightly, then cover and chill until cold.

  Pour the coffee into a chilled 12- by 9- by 2-inch metal pan or 8-inch square glass baking dish. Freeze for 30 minutes, or until ice crystals begin to form around the edges.

  Stir the ice crystals into the center of the mixture. Return the pan to the freezer and continue freezing, stirring every 30 minutes, until all of the liquid is frozen, about 2 to 2½ hours.

  Serve in large goblets, with whipped cream if desired.

  Makes 1½ quarts.

  Arancini di Riso (Sicilian Rice Balls)

  2 cups Italian Arborio or American Carolina rice

  1 cup meat sauce

  1 cup grated Pecorino Romano cheese

  1 (10-ounce) package frozen peas, thawed

  2 eggs

  1 pound ricotta

  1 cup flour

  2 cups dried bread crumbs

  3 cups canola or vegetable oil for deep-frying

  Boil the rice until tender and drain. When the rice is still hot, but cool enough to handle, add the sauce, Pecorino Romano cheese, peas, and eggs. Mix well and let cool. Take a handful of rice mixture, make a depression in the middle, and fill with 1 tablespoon of ricotta. Cover the ricotta with more rice, and shape into a ball. As you shape the arancini, place them on a tray.

  When you have finished making all of the arancini, make a paste out of the flour plus 1 cup of water, and using your hands coat each one with the flour paste. When all have been coated, roll each one in bread crumbs. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour or overnight.

  When ready to serve the arancini, deep-fry them in the oil until golden, drain on paper towels, and serve hot or at room temperature.

  Makes about 16.

  Pasta alla Norma (Pasta with Eggplant)

  2 eggplants

  Kosher salt

  ½ to 1 cup canola or vegetable oil

  1 pound uncooked spaghetti or macaroni

  2 cups marinara sauce

  8 ounces ricotta salata, shredded, or Greek feta cheese, crumbled

  Cut the eggplants lengthwise into ½-inch slices. Layer them in a colander, sprinkling salt in between the layers. Top the stack of slices with a weight and let them drain off the dark bitter juices for at least 30 minutes. When ready to fry them, rinse off the salt, dry on paper towels, and fry in the hot oil.

  Cook the pasta according to the package directions. Drain, place in a bowl, and add the sauce and the cheese, reserving some of each for the topping. Arrange the fried eggplant all around the serving platter, allowing the slices to hang over the edge. Spoon the pasta into the serving platter, fold the eggplant slices over the pasta, top with the reserved sauce, and serve hot or at room temperature.

  Serves 6 to 8.

  Frittata con Patate e Cipolle (Omelet with Potatoes and Onions)

  6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

  2 potatoes, peeled and cubed

  2 onions, sliced

  6 eggs

  Salt and black pepper to taste

  Heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a medium frying pan, and fry the cubed potatoes until they are golden brown. Place in a bowl, and set aside. Add another 2 tablespoons of olive oil to the same pan, and cook the onions until browned and fragrant. Add to the potatoes. Heat the last 2 tablespoons of olive oil in the frying pan.

  Meanwhile, in another bowl, beat the eggs with the salt and pepper; stir in the potatoes and the onions. Pour the mixture in the heated pan, and, running a fork along the bottom of the frittata, pierce it, allowing the egg to run to the bottom. When the top is just dry, turn the frittata onto a plate, and slip it back into the frying pan to cook the other side.

  Serves 4.

  The recipe for Tetu was adapted from Sweet Sicily: The Story of an Island and Her Pastries, by Victoria Granof (HarperCollins). The recipe for granita di caffè was adapted from La Dolce Vita, by Michele Scicolone (William Morrow and Company). All the other recipes were adapted from Sicilian Feasts, by Giovanna Bellia La Marca (Hippocrene Books). For more recipes, special reading group features, and blog posts, please visit RosannaChiofalo.com.

  Please turn the page for a very special

  Q&A with the author!

  What was your inspiration for Stella Mia?

  I often have more than one inspiration for writing my novels. For Stella Mia, I knew I wanted to set most of the book in Sicily. I also wanted to capture some of the mysticism that pervades Sicily. I thought it would be interesting to have a character who sang Sicilian folk songs and who also read people’s fortunes. So that was one inspiration. My other inspiration was my father’s grapevine. I had told my editor about the grapevine my father had planted when he and my mother bought my childhood home in Astoria, Queens, New York. In my family, we were all very proud of the grapevine my father had planted in our small concrete backyard. Some people thought the grapevine would never grow, but it did, and it made our tiny city backyard look so beautiful. The year that my father had cancer, the grapevine inexplicably didn’t grow as lush as it had the previous years. And after my father died, the grapevine all but died as well. Of course, my family and I couldn’t help seeing the irony, especially since my father had planted the grapevine and loved it so much. About fifteen or so years later, sometime after my mother had sold the house, I was visiting our old next-door neighbor and was talking to her in her yard, which faced the yard of my childhood home. I was surprised to see that my father’s grapevine was growing again. My mother had tried to replant the grapevine with an offshoot of a grapevine she had received from a friend. But we never got to see if the grapevine would take hold and grow to be the lush vine my father’s had been, since my mother had sold the house. Needless to say, I was very moved when I saw the grapevine had grown back and was on its way to looking as beautiful as the one my father had planted. In high school, I had written a college application essay that centered on my father’s grapevine, and I always knew that someday I wanted to work it into a novel. When my editor heard the story of my father’s grapevine, he, too, felt I should try and work it into my next novel.

  Does the song “Stella Mia” hold any personal connection for you?

  I made up the words for the song “Stella Mia,” but I got the idea for Sarina’s singing the song to Julia when she was a baby because a few years ago I learned that my father used
to sing to me a lot when I was a baby as he was rocking me to sleep. My father died when I was sixteen, and I had never heard before that he sang to me when I was a baby. My brother told me my father was always singing, and later I did remember him singing a song or two, but I had no idea he sang to me as well when I was a baby. So when I knew I wanted to write about a woman whose mother had left her, the idea came to me that Julia’s mother, Sarina, sang her the same song, “Stella Mia,” over and over. And the song is one of the few things Julia has to remember her mother by. Songs and music can be very powerful since we often attach a memory, milestone, or other significant life event to them. Every time we hear the song, inevitably the memories associated with that song come to mind. For Julia, the song “Stella Mia” still connects her to the mother who left her. For Sarina, the song at first reminds her of her little sister, Carlotta, whom she used to sing the song to. But later, when Carlo calls Sarina his “stella mia,” the song and phrase then remind her of the love she shared with Carlo. In Stella Mia, I do mention a song that is tied to a milestone in my life. The song that Julia mentions she and her father danced to at her wedding, Vittorio Merlo’s “Piccolo Fiore,” was the same song I danced to at my wedding with my older brother Anthony.