Adopted Famiglie (Families) Who didn’t Volunteer

Part One: Ciao…and Happy Thanksgiving

“People who love to eat are always the best people.” Julia Child

I 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 home guests of my fav restaurateurs and family.

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

I began my La Fornaretta experience about seven years ago when 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. Sundays had always been sacred even after 12 o’ clock Mass. The sauce would be cooking in the pot, and the early morning aroma was building toward a mid-afternoon dinner with the family gathered around the table.

But since 1976, and about three months into my new dental practice, it had been only Mom and me. When our little family had also included Dad and brother Jay, there were a few sports event compromises…and dinner started later than 2 PM. 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 conscious and felt some guilt over the effort Mom put into preparing a meal for our family; seemed like the pleasure that mattered most to Mom was ours, not the chef’s.

Our Sunday dates continued even as Mom battled the relentless consequences of diabetes, and our choices became 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 one another. I can still remember sitting out in the Sunday sun over at the Huntington Memorial courtyard and appreciating every moment. Mom passed away in March 1999.

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 friends had urged me to give the place a try. One friend worked for then-U.S. Representative Adam Schiff in an office right above the restaurant and the other one was from Milano. How could I say no?

Until that first Sunday, I’d never walked into a restaurant without a date; just wasn’t that comfortable with myself or confident enough to pull off such a simple pleasure. But 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 reading the Times and writing my column; afternoons are for the movies and working out…and the evenings are 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, 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.

Post scriptum: The Church of Scientology bought the Braley Building in 2005. Suzanne and Cesare chose to move their family and La Fornaretta northward to Newcastle, California, about 45-minutes north of Sacramento International Airport. But it wasn’t so easy escaping one raving fan...and their dentist.