San Diego Italian Food: A Culinary History of Little Italy and Beyond

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INTRODUCTION

When I scan through the shelves of a bookstore looking for my next read, I am always drawn to the titles written by an author who is clearly inspired by the subject, whether it’s a novel of fiction or nonfiction, an autobiography, a travel or culinary adventure or some other subject. The most interesting works are created by individuals who want to immerse readers in their world, bringing them to a heightened sense of understanding or emotion, perhaps making them laugh or cry, or at least making them a little smarter than they were the day before.

Welcome to my world! Creating this book was one of the most enjoyable tasks I’ve experienced as an author. The Italian culture is steeped in tradition, with a history as old as civilization itself. We are proud, dramatic, emotional and, most of all, completely transparent. We’re not mysterious. You will know exactly who we are and what we’re thinking from the moment we meet. We speak with our emotions, and everything we experience is always larger than life. It’s no surprise that Italian-inspired food is one of the most popular international cuisines served in cities spanning both coasts and everywhere in between.

My journey to San Diego is not dissimilar to many other stories. In the early 1950s, my father emigrated from his home in the southern Italian region of Calabria to Detroit, Michigan. With a secure job at the Ford Motor Company, he traveled back to his hometown, married my mother and returned to establish his family in America. He later followed an uncle to a small town in the eastern portion of Washington State, where he spent most of his working life as a laborer for the City Maintenance Department. Spokane is where I was born and raised, and although the city was much too small to support a formal Little Italy, that didn’t hinder Italians of all backgrounds from sharing their lives and holidays together. When the weather allowed, my father cultivated a large garden in our backyard, with rows of fresh vegetables to fill our table during summer and fall. The remainder was promptly jarred and stored in the pantry for winter and spring. Walking into my uncle’s basement was like stepping into a butcher shop—all varieties of home-cured meats hung from the rafters, just waiting to be carved up for a snack.

Maria Desiderata Montana’s parents, Lucia and Natale Polito, on their wedding day in 1957 in Italy. The couple immigrated to the United States that year. Courtesy of the Polito family.

My mother was, and remains today, the quintessential Italian wife. While raising five children, she spent a large part of her day in the kitchen, producing meals that utilized ingredients from our garden and the local markets. The farm-to-table experience was a way of life for me as a child. During my mother’s daily routine, I could be found creating something in the kitchen. It was my entertainment and a source of creativity and inspiration that remains in my blood today. If I wasn’t helping my mom roll a batch of ravioli on the weekend, then I’d be making gnocchi, fluffy pillow pasta prepared from potatoes and flour. When my husband and I moved to San Diego in 1994, my parents and most of my siblings soon followed. My father tells me stories of his childhood years in Calabria and expresses wonder at the many similarities in local landscape and weather. I, too, love to grow my own vegetables, fruit and herbs, although not nearly on the same scale as my childhood garden. There’s something special about eating meals that include fresh ingredients from your garden. It’s a true labor of love that tastes fabulous!

I think my passion for cooking started when I was seven years old, when I woke up early on Christmas Eve morning to make homemade ravioli for our big Christmas dinner. When I say early, I mean the crack of dawn. You see, my mother couldn’t rest until the ravioli was finished. A perfectionist by nature, she just couldn’t wait to see how beautifully they would turn out. While the rest of the house was quiet, my mom played soft, Italian music and shared her childhood stories as my sister and I helped roll out the pasta dough. Forget about the men in my family ever helping in the kitchen; our Italian tradition was that the cooking was for the women only.

There was no such thing as fast food in our home; ingredients were simple and straightforward yet rustic and fiery. The staples in our Italian pantry included pasta, bread, olive oil, sausage, prosciutto, goat cheese and hot peppers. Oven-baked bread with a vine-ripened tomato and a chunk of Pecorino Romano cheese drizzled with extra virgin olive oil is all a Calabrese needs to stay happy and satisfied. My mother took the fresh produce my father created and taught me how to prepare it by smell, touch and taste. As a child watching her in the kitchen, the movement of her hands fascinated me as she wove the intricate details that went into preparing the made-from-scratch, mouthwatering meals that her mother had served, and her mother before her. Even though none of the recipes is written down, they all remain in my memory and turn out the same delicious way every time. My mother is amazed that I can remember everything just by watching her. She was a remarkable teacher and is still my mentor today. I was always spellbound by the way my mother described the food she prepared; for example, she could tell her pasta or pizza dough was perfect by the way it felt in her hands. She was animated with the food and emotionally attached to it, as if it had a life of its own. The day was not complete unless there was a beautiful meal on the table for her family. She infused love into each dish. That was her gift to us.

On Christmas Eve, we celebrate the Feast of the Seven Fishes, a Roman Catholic tradition observing abstinence from the consumption of meat, as well as a tribute to the midnight birth of the baby Jesus. It is not Christmas Eve in my family without baccalà (Italian salted cod), which must be soaked for at least two days in cold water to remove the excess sodium. Every year, my parents and I take a trip to Little Italy, and I leave it up to my mom to pick out the perfect piece of baccalà. My mother fries the fish and tops it with fresh tomatoes, onions, Moroccan olives and hot red peppers. I prepare an easier version of this recipe, substituting Alaskan white cod for the baccalà. (See the recipe in this book). Other fish dishes we enjoy include deep-fried jumbo shrimp, calamari, sea scallops, crab, mussels and linguine with clam sauce.

Buon Natale Christmas sign in San Diego’s Little Italy. Photo by Maria Desiderata Montana.

Today, we all live on the same street, and my mother and sister often come to my house to help my daughter and me prepare for Christmas Day, while I play Italian music and throw in some of my own cooking tips. We prepare ravioli and freeze it a few days in advance. Our Christmas celebration also includes a variety of nuts and fruit, including fresh figs, pomegranates, persimmons and tangelos. I also make Italian desserts, including cannoli, a fried pastry shell filled with a sweet, creamy filling of ricotta cheese and confectioners’ sugar; chocolate pizzelle, large, round waffle cookies from southern-central Italy; amaretti, almond-based cookies; tiramisu, an Italian cake; and biscotti.

Not surprisingly, the Little Italy neighborhood in San Diego is one of my favorite local destinations. Oftentimes, I will visit just to sit at a sidewalk café and enjoy an espresso while the world bustles around me. Interviewing the local business owners, chefs and leaders was a joy. Not only were the stories of their histories and experiences interesting, but also the way they told the stories was entertaining! If you stood at a distance, you’d see their hands moving in big circles, their voices moving like a vocal symphony and their laughter filling the air with expression. Although each individual had a unique tale to tell, they wove in common themes of family values, passion for their craft and drive for perfection.

Sign in San Diego’s Little Italy. Photo by Maria Desiderata Montana.

The layout for this book is easy to follow. It starts with a history lesson regarding Italian immigration to America and the growth of an ethnically Italian region in San Diego, followed by a list of Italian restaurants in alphabetical order and ends with a collection of my favorite recipes. Throughout the book you will find historical and contemporary photos, providing a window into the heritage and culture of San Diego’s Little Italy and a colorful insert with photos to match my recipes. Enjoy your look into my world!

1

ITALIAN HISTORY AND LINKS TO SAN DIEGO

Although everyone knows the story about legendary Italian explorer Christopher Columbus discovering the New World, few know that the name America was derived in the early 1500s from the name of another Italian explorer, Amerigo Vespucci, who first hypothesized that this new land mass was a continent separated from Asia. Many may also not know that it was Italian Alessandro Malaspina and Jesuit priest Eusebio Kino who explored and mapped much of the West Coast, including Southern California and Baja in the late 1600s. The Jesuits were central to the establishment of all California missions, bringing a strong faith to the local residents. Their wine-making skills also laid the foundation for what has become one of the most affluent industries in the state.

When Italians began immigrating to America in the late 1800s, they were primarily laborers from