I'm moving...

Hello dear friends of Morta Di Fame! I have some exciting news. You know I moved to Greenpoint, Brooklyn, from my old boro of Queens. And the blog waned. I realize why. I didn't have the same material I had when I lived there. By material I mean my crazy Sicilian family, but in particular the stars of the show Nonna and Rocco! My Mom Marcy, the only normal one, is keeping me abreast on the craziness going on there.
A new woman moved into the downstairs apartment below Nonna. The poor woman is very scared and regretful because not only does she have Nonna, the self-titled Commander of the House throwing her weight around but she has Nonna's second in command, Josephine (her caretaker) trying to steer the ship.
Normally the two are at odds about ridiculous Italian court TV shows but this time they are teaming up, and its getting ugly. When the new woman tried to pay her first months rent with a money order, they scoffed. "We don't accept those here," they told her. As if they are running a convenience store.
"I don't like her," Nonna says.
"But why?" Marcy asks.
"She has ripped jeans."
Ripped Jeans? This coming from the old woman who knitted sleeves onto a my dad's 70s maroon puffer vest and who use to make me scrunchies. Style is apparently very important to Nonna.
I promise to keep you posted on these stories but my focus has shifted to a new and bigger endeavor that I am inviting you to be a part of.
While walking around my gorgeous new McGorlick Park in Greenpoint, I wished I had a blog where I talk about all the amazing goings on and rad people in my neighborhood.

Serendipitously, I received an email from Justine, the founder and owner of the beloved Greenpointers blog. She was putting it up for sale because she was moving to Harlem. Its not like I don't have a million other projects going on but I bid and I got it!
What impressed me about Justine, aside from her kick-ass Brooklyn accent, is that she wasn't interested in the highest bidder but someone who would continue to develop the blog, which is my new job! That's top of my photography position at Polo and my art organization Ugly Art Room.
The welcome from my new neighbors and readers has been amazing and I hope you can be a part of it. Please check in: www.thegreenpointers.com
A post you may really enjoy is the Greenpointers Espresso Tour in which three other judges plus myself toured Greenpoint and tasted over 19 espressos to find THE BEST ESPRESSO in Greenpoint.
Even if you are not from Greenpoint, there is a lot on there you will enjoy, including recipes, reviews, art and music, funny stories, great photos, and not just from me but from a slew of other talented writers and photographers from a variety of backgrounds.
Morta Di Fame will now be reserved for my crazy writing plus a sounding board for the new blog, which has been so far a really interesting experience, like the debate among original Greenpointers on who is a "real" Greenpointer. Am I still in Queens? So stay tuned...

Thanks Mom. For terrorizing me

"I hate the smell of funeral homes," I told my Mom.
"You mean the flower smell?" She was driving.
"No the quiet. How you have to be quiet."
"Well you don't really have to be."

She turned.

"How old was he?"
"81."

"That's pretty good."
"That's 12 more years for me," my Mom said.
I went hoarse. Thanks Mom.
For terrorizing me before I go into a funeral home!

I knew his name was Ignazio, I thought.I didn't know. Eddie's real name was Ignazio.
We told his family, "he looks good." Surprised.
As if anyone looked good dead.

He was the best looking corpse I had ever seen.

"Not put through so much," my Mom said.

I tried to rub the sad looks off their faces.
I rubbed their arms and shoulders. Then walked away.

I told Eddie's wife Rose the stupidest story to make her laugh. Rubbing.
"Rose, Eddie was wearing the cutest sailboat pajamas the last time I saw him."
That's how bad the story was.

The Life of (the former) St. Rocco

It was Rocco's birthday dinner recently and over a deliciously cooked meal my Mom looked at Nonna and said," I am sorry to have to tell you this, but your son is converting to Protestantism." Rocco who walks in the candlelit procession of the Blessed Madonna in Sicily every summer and an atheist who refers to my mother's Methodist church as "lesbian church," was nodding in agreement.

Apparently, St. Rocco's day has been officially taken off the Catholic Saint Day calendar, Marcy explained, and the day has been given to a Hungarian Saint. The disgrace!
"That fucking Hungarian Saint can go die! Take away my saint day? I will never be a Catholic again!"
I thought saints were already dead and martyred, but what do I know. Cursing a Saint to death is pretty demented and once again makes me question what kind of genetics I have floating around inside me.
St. Rocco's story goes like this: while plagued with the plague, St. Rocco hid out in a cave and was close to death until a dog came to his rescue. How happy. During times of severe epidemics the people of Southern Italy prayed to St. Rocco for health. Especially those crazy Sicilian hypochondriacs.
Ever since I was a kid Rocco always said, "I'm a very sick-ah man!" Maybe it was his saint alter ego talking. And when he loses an inch off his belly, he says, "Jen, I'm withering away! I'm dying!"
The kicker: St. Rocco is French! Why is that so satisfying to me? Not every awesome person is Sicilian, Rocco. For the record, my dad think thats George Washington is a Sicilian descendant. Sicily Fries anyone?

More on St. Rocco.

Buy tickets to Ball Out!

Buy tickets to Balls Out! Fundraiser on Brown Paper Tickets.
Tickets will also be available at the door.

this is why i've been MIA...

...because all i can think about are BALLS!!!

Email uglyartroom (at) gmail.com to compete...
RSVP on Facebook.

Wow, I suck! But Nonna in a shark mask surely does not!

Hi. I suck. And I have a really bad haircut. I have been thinking about retiring this blog because of how sucky I have been. But I can't because when I create visual masterpieces like Nonna Wearing a Shark Mask, 2011, I need a place to show it to the world. This photo is part of a series of photos I have been playing around with using this amazing shark mask I bought in Philly.

I have been making pretty simple and not-so-blog-worthy food now that I have moved to Greenpoint. Cheese. Bread. Greens. Meat. And I have been eating out way too much. My apartment's proximity to Five Leaves leaves me with about five bucks in my wallet at the end of the month. But the homemade ricotta there is so amazing. And the wild boar ragu! And, and, and...

When I miss my Sicilian American heritage I take a walk along Graham Ave in Williamsburg. There are always little old Nonna's going to get their hair did. And I can buy the best fresh homemade ricotta from Graham Meats and Deli. I always head over to Cafe Capri for the best cappuccino in town and some friendly conversation from Joe, who is kind of hot for an old man. You know how I feel about old men. And for a truly demented experience, Jerry Ragusa, the headstone shop owner, sells "the best bread above ground." His cousin from Bayridge drops it off each morning. Guidonics translation: "Iz guzzin from Bayridge drobs it awf erry mawnin." 

While trying to recreate the fantastic Five Leaves Ricotta, which is topped with honey, figs and some fresh thyme, you need chestnut honey, but aside from the $10 jar from Whole Foods, its nowhere to be found in Greenpoint and Williamsburg. 

I am going to visit Nonna today in the old neighborhood and I know just where to get it. Don't be jealous. I am sure Nonna will give me some ridiculous content for this blog.

So I won't be retiring it just yet. And I think we agree, unless I am making meatballs or riceballs, anything that ends in balls, you read this for the family stories involving Sicilian psychosis. Its resurfacing so stay tuned. Nonna sounded on fire when I called her this morning. 

I told Paulie that I would pray to the Madonna that he gets the liquor license.

And sure enough, while I was in Sicily, Paulie Gee's got its liquor license. Cha ching! Some of my friends had not even gone just because they couldn't drink there. Thank you Bedra Madre... that my friends are alcoholics.

Photo: Castellamare Del Golfo, August 2010, Procession of the Madonna on the Water

Ann of the 18th Restaurant and Jeremy at VPC!

A long long time ago in the infancy of this blog, one of my very first posts was the Bubble Dinner in Gowanus, part of Ann Apparu's 18th Restaurant. Now, Jeremy and Ann are going to be preparing a not to be missed Sunday Dinner at Veronica People's this Sunday. GO!