"Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do with what there is."

Ernest Hemingway

As our first Thanksgiving day living in Italy approached, I was shocked to learn that the local supermercato did not sell whole turkeys. They did have cut-up pieces, so I resolved to buy some of those and make the best of it. After all, what the Italians called La Festa del Ringraziamento was not an Italian holiday.

A few days before Thanksgiving, however, our family received an invitation to join some American expat friends for dinner that day. Since the husband worked for the U.S. Department of Defense, they could buy a turkey at the local naval base. I offered to bring an hors d’oeuvre, mashed potatoes, a pie, and Italian wine.

Since it was not a holiday in Italy, my husband had to go to work that Thursday at his Italian company, and I spent the morning shopping with the children. (Their international school had the day off.) First stop was the waterfront fish market on the docks in Pozzuoli, where I bought some fresh shrimp for the hors d’oeuvres. Next stop was the GS supermercato for the rest of the needed ingredients and a pie pan. We then went to the UPIM department store to look for a potato masher, but I had to settle for a type of hand beater.

After returning home, I cooked and chilled the shrimp, made an apple pie, and mashed the potatoes. My husband left work early, and we went to our friends’ home for an early evening dinner.

As expected, they had gotten the turkey at the base, but even the American supplies were limited. They could not get a large one, but two small ones tasted just as good. It was a memorable American holiday meal with great friends, enhanced by Italian wine, including Marsala all’ Uovo with dessert. We had a lot to be thankful for and had no idea the next year would bring a different challenge.

The following year, I was more prepared for a turkey hunt. With a better grasp of Italian, I went to an outdoor produce market and ordered un tacchino intero (a whole turkey) 10 days before the holiday. I was excited and agreed to pick it up the day before Thanksgiving.

 On Sunday, November 23, four days before the holiday, we attended a professional soccer game with friends in the town of Avellino. Afterward, we returned to their home, and while sitting around their dining room table, the chandelier swayed for several minutes, and we felt the earth move. The children had been playing outside, and we found them overexcited and saying the shaking ground made them fall down. We soon learned that it was a terremoto, an EARTHQUAKE of 6.9 magnitude and that it was centered in the mountains not far from Avellino, where we had come from. In fact, the soccer stadium field was being used for the rescue helicopters to land. Whole mountain villages were destroyed, and even in the nearby city of Napoli, buildings had collapsed. We lived north of the city and had no damage, but in the following days, news reports showed widespread devastation south and west of us.

On Wednesday, I drove to the outdoor market. It was open, so I asked about my turkey. The vendor looked at me like I was crazy and chided me for expecting a turkey delivery in the aftermath of an earthquake that killed so many people. (I later learned that almost 2,500 people died, 7,700 were injured, and 250,000 became homeless.) I felt foolish and selfish for asking. I don’t remember what we ate that Thursday, but three days later, we invited some Italian friends for dinner, Italian style.

For our third Thanksgiving in Italy, we decided to spend it in Firenze (Florence), in part because we love the city and its art. We also reasoned that we might be able to have turkey there because it has so many American tourists. The only restaurant offering a turkey dinner, however, was in a five-star hotel, and the price was astronomical, especially for a family of four. We love Italian food, so it wouldn’t be a hardship to have it for our holiday meal. Since I was eager to visit the nearby town of Prato, having learned about its textile industry, I suggested we drive there. We could have our Italian dinner after seeing the sights. Wrong. For some reason, many places were closed, including restaurants. We finally found an open one that was far from traditional for Italians or Americans. We celebrated Thanksgiving in Italy, eating at a Chinese restaurant!