By Brendan Young
VIVA SAN GIUSEPPE! Memories cause the words to echo in my ears, and I cannot help but smile. For this second-generation Italian American of Sicilian background from Buffalo, New York, the month of March means one thing: Saint Joseph’s Day! The sights, smells, and tastes of the Tavolata di San Giuseppe, the St. Joseph’s Table (or as they would say in other areas, the St. Joseph’s Altar), all form a true feast for both body and soul at the end of the dull winter, and in the middle of penitential Lent. Saint Joseph’s Day means so much to Italians and to Italian Americans, and has thankfully withstood the test of time, remaining one of our community’s most beloved traditions despite modernization and assimilation.
My paternal grandmother was born and raised in Mussomeli, in central Sicily, and the town’s co-patron saint is St. Joseph. As is the case for most Italian families, many of my uncles, aunts and cousins were named Giuseppe and Giuseppina — Joseph and Josephine. Like countless others, my relatives brought their devotion to St. Joseph with them when they emigrated to America between the 1950s-80s.
Recipe: Authentic St. Joseph’s Day Pasta
The earlier immigrants who came to the United States (especially those who settled in New York, Colorado, Louisiana, California, and even Texas) a century before, had long ago established the custom of the St. Joseph’s Table in the New World, but its popularity had somewhat faded after World War II. I grew up attending revitalized Tavolate, hosted by families and societies comprised of more recent immigrants who inspired renewed interest in language and traditions in general among Italian Americans.
The veneration of the Foster-Father of Jesus, the Chaste Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and the Patron Saint of the Universal Church has only grown over the centuries, especially throughout (southern) Italy and wherever our immigrants have settled. How is it expressed within the context of the Tavolata? An altar is set up as the focal point of the celebration, featuring a statue or other image of the Saint, surrounded by candles and flowers, especially lilies symbolizing his purity. The Table is blessed, and St. Joseph is prayerfully invoked. Mary and Joseph being refused a place to stay in Bethlehem several times before hospitality was finally offered in the stable or cave, is often reenacted. This performance is called the Tuppi Tuppi (Knock, Knock). Loud cries of Viva San Giuseppe! (Hooray for St. Joseph!) frequently punctuate the meal.
There are several versions of how the Table came to be. Some sources date it to events in 1262 or 1268. One of the most-repeated accounts describes a famine or drought in Sicily leading landowners or farmers to promise St. Joseph that if his intercession brought about rain, they would serve a free meal to the local vergineddi (little needy children) or vicchiareddi (old people). This is reflected even today in the practice of all donations or proceeds from the meal being given to the poor, or a charity.
Another explanation attributes the meal’s origin to a similar vow made by unsuccessful fishermen who could not catch anything. In fact, some claim this is why fish is served at the Tavolata instead of meat, but meat scarcity among poor Sicilians and the Feast being held on March 19 (during Lent) are what likely shaped the menu.
The millenary practice of making a promise or vow to give a Table if, through the intercession of St. Joseph, one or a relative were granted a healing, the successful birth of a healthy baby, a job obtained, etc. continues even today. The promise was made on a significant scale during World War II, and other wars and conflicts, if loved ones were to return home alive and safe. Often in the past, and still today for some, fulfilling the promise meant doing so at considerable financial sacrifice. Sometimes, a door-to-door collection in the old Italian neighborhoods, or a collection among family members or friends, was taken up to defray the cost of the Tavolata.
Click here for Zeppole and Sfingi recipes.
Today’s Tables are celebrated more than a century since their first observance, but the menu remains the same: in Buffalo, the usual foods include lentils with rice, froscia or frittata (omelet) often with asparagus, pasta con sarde (pasta with sardines) sprinkled with muddichi or molliche (breadcrumbs) symbolizing the sawdust of St. Joseph’s carpenter’s shop, fresh olives, fried cauliflower and carduni (burdocks), Pane di San Giuseppe (St. Joseph’s Bread) braided in special forms like crosses, crooks and other symbols), and fish, normally fried baccalà (cod). Oranges and fresh fennel are always included. And of course, the essential dolci (desserts): the most important being sfingi (fried, hollow puffed pastries) and a similar variation called zeppole, often filled with cream, and pignulata also called struffoli (honey balls), other sweets may include cannoli and cookies.
In 2021, like others, I prepared the Tavolata at home for the first time, as my parish and other venues did not host one due to Covid restrictions. But especially heartening that year was the flooding of social media with pictures posted to Facebook and Instagram by (young) Italian Americans of homemade sfingi and zeppole, as never before. This bodes well for our community’s future. We are often prone to repeat a mistaken assertion, that our ancestors came to America with nothing. Yes, they were materially poor, but very rich in human, cultural and spiritual values. The basics of their Faith, like devotion to St. Joseph, allowed them to face their adopted country’s uncertainties, motivating and strengthening them. We are the proud recipients of this heritage including the Tavolata, that we must treasure and cultivate, and if necessary, rediscover and recover. Viva San Giuseppe!
Brendan Young, from Buffalo, New York, is a member of ISDA.
