'Whenever I visited Calabria, I brought the obvious gifts, things that I thought everyone could use: fancy soaps, fluffy towels, toys, hats, and T-shirts with 'New York' or 'Florida' written somewhere on them. They were all items that I'd picked up on my way out of the States. Giuseppe, for his part, would present me - even before the double-cheek kiss - with, say, a jar of roasted chestnuts soaking in sugar water. It was something I'd never eaten before. I still remember the distinct taste of the soft, wet, sugary nut. I brought my relatives what I thought they needed; they gave gifts that they couldn't live without. While I had shopped for the towels and Yankees hats, Giuseppe had picked and jarred the chestnuts himself. His gift was always the air, the views, or the food on which Calabresi exist.'
from Stolen Figs by Mark Rotella
