The Feisty Italian: Bringing Little Italy to Dixie A Diary of My Journey I became a home cook

    A little backstory on me. Real quick, I promise. I am an Italian born and bred on Long Island, NY. Like many people who live in that area, you don’t foresee yourself ever moving off the Island. Ever. Full stop. I come from a rather large (by today’s standards) and rather loud family. I am one of five. My mother and father are one of four and one of five respectively. And like many large Italian-American families, you are SURROUNDED by relatives. Seriously, my husband always jokingly says, “You can throw a rock and hit a relative.” For instance, my sisters and younger brother live within a three-mile radius of my parents' home. It was also not at all unusual for an adult child to still be living with their parents. I was in my thirties, still in college, and striving for financial freedom. Therefore, I hadn’t flown the coup. Enter, the man who would become my husband. End of backstory. (see, I told you it was going to be quick)

 Alright, let’s get into it. My husband and I were dating at the time. I was working in public ed while continuing my education, and he was working for the government at the airport. Unfortunately, at that time, he was working the graveyard shift, which made dating quite interesting. He would be going to bed in the early evening while I was finishing up class. One night, I managed to keep him awake long enough for us to go out on a date. Over dinner, we discussed what his long-term career goals were. ALL of which, would involve moving out of state. I died a little inside that day knowing it would mean that someday, I would have to leave my family and New York, behind. With a smile, I asked, “Okay, where?” “Georgia. Southern Georgia” he replied. I shoved a forkful of food in my mouth to buy me some time to think of a response. “Alright, (swallowing hard) and when would this be happening?” I asked. He looked up from his plate and said,” Honestly? I don’t know. I applied and interviewed but it could be a while before I hear if I’ve gotten the promotion.” “Oh, so, it could be a while from now?” (as I breathed a sigh of relief) “Yep, looks that way.” He gently grabbed my hand and asked, “You’re still on board with this, right?” Looking into his big blue eyes, I agreed.

 Well, that “someday” came much faster than I had anticipated. About a month later, in October, he called me at work late one afternoon. Giddy with excitement, as I saw his name flash across my phone (insert eye roll), I answered the call. “Hey babe,” I said with a smile. This next sentence forever changed my life. In a low and serious tone, he replied, “I got the promotion.” Instantly, the smile was erased from my face. My heart began to race. I was in shock. “Honey, did you hear me?” he asked. I snapped myself out of my temporary paralysis to respond, “Yes. I did. Ho-Honey, that’s great. Congratulations. I’ll see you tonight and we’ll celebrate.” I hung up the phone and I just sat at my desk; processing what will be my new reality. So, I did what anyone in my situation would. I went to the internet and immediately started googling Southern Georgia. Maps, nightlife, housing…”hey, this may not be so bad,” I muttered to myself in pleasant surprise. Then it dawned on me. He didn’t say exactly where in Georgia we’d be relocating to. Later that evening, while I was cooking us dinner in his apartment, I asked, “Okay, so since we’re really doing this, I started researching some things.” With a chuckle, he said, “Oh yeah? Like what?” I explained how I had looked at the area, nightlife, housing, and such, and said “It’s doesn’t seem that bad. I found a huge apartment at a great price!” “Really? Show me!” he replied. I pulled out my smartphone and showed him the complex I had looked up. “See, it’s this amazing!!!” I said with a grin. He started to laugh. Laugh?? “What was so funny?” “Oh, sweetheart. Thank you for looking into this for us, but this apartment is in Savannah.” Annoyed, I snapped, “So, what’s funny about that? Isn’t that where we’re moving to?” “Because we will be about an hour further south from there,” he said with a smirk. Puzzled, I asked, “Further South? Any further South we will be in Florida!” “Well, we will be close. Brunswick, GA is where we are moving to, honey.” I thought to myself, “Where the hell is ‘Brunswick’?” I had never heard of it. I grabbed my phone and pulled up a map. I didn’t see it. I zoomed in, and sure enough, there it was. Smack dab between Savannah and Jacksonville. “Seriously?” I thought to myself. I smiled, took a deep breath, and served dinner.

After dinner, I leisurely began researching the area. I Googled “nightlife in Brunswick” and “fun things to do in Brunswick.” It yielded little results. (ouch) I found a few bars, golf courses, and a movie theater.  The whole town seemed to shut down by ten p.m. I continued on and searched for restaurants, retail, convenience stores, delis, Italian markets…(you know, “New York” stuff) I couldn’t believe it. I refused to believe what I was seeing (or rather, not seeing). They did not exist. There were no deli let alone an Italian market. I couldn’t help but hear the voice in my head screaming, “Where the hell are we moving to?” After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I went to bed.

Now, it was November. There is nothing like autumn in New York. The leaves turn beautiful shades of orange and red. “Pumpkin Spice” everything is everywhere. But, most notably, there is a crispness in the air, that signifies the holidays. It was also time to tell my family that my future husband and I were moving off Long Island. This caused great amounts of anxiety as I was the first one in my family to start my life out of state. This was big. This was epic. This was… put off for another month; until after Christmas. I stressed about how would my parents react that not only was I moving out, but that my husband was going to move at the end of January. I would follow after graduation. I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t break the news to them that I would be leaving. So, I had my future husband do it. It turns out, everything was fine. My family was super supportive and happy for me. (I think my parents were somewhat relieved I was finally moving out)

Skip ahead a few months, and now it was June. I finally graduated college and it was time to go. Time to make the BIG leap. My husband flew up a few days before we left town. Our last couple of nights in New York were bittersweet. Full of tears, hugs, and a farewell dinner. Early the next morning, (too early if you ask me) I tearfully said my goodbyes to my parents, and we set off on our very long drive to our new home. After a quick pit stop at my father-in-law's house in North Carolina for a couple of days, we finally made it home. And the adventure continues….