Break out the Beefaroni … it’s Columbus Day
The only memories I can conjure up of Columbus Day involve Crayon drawings on cream-colored construction paper of the Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Maria.
It’s the lamest holiday I know.
No wonder there’s a campaign to rename it. American Indian groups prefer to celebrate their heritage that day rather than commemorate the ruthless adventurer who exploited them. Three states – Alabama, Hawaii and South Dakota – have changed its name, along with Berkeley, Calif., and Portland. Variously, it’s been renamed Native American Day, Discovers Day or Indigenous Peoples Day.
A holiday devoted to American Indian culture sounds full of wonderful possibilities, whether they’re nationwide powwows, salmon bakes or Sherman Alexie film festivals. Fry bread could be served. Dream catchers could be woven. A Native American women’s group at Washington State University could drop the “Killumbus” T-shirt fundraiser and finally get to celebrate instead.
The most compelling argument against tossing Columbus Day is this one: It’s the only pro-Italian-American holiday we have.
But, given the richness of Italian culture, if this is the best we can do, I recommend we dump this holiday like an outdated can of Beefaroni.
What Italian-Americans really need is a rollicking version of St. Patrick’s Day. Sinatra songs should be belted. Spaghetti should be slurped. Sangiovese should be guzzled.
This time of year always reigns as Italian-American season in my kitchen as I harvest the last of the fresh basil and oregano out of the pots on my deck, pore over cookbooks and figure out how best to serve the remaining harvest of fresh tomatoes and zucchini.
The historical figure of Christopher Columbus doesn’t exactly float my boat, but the people who gave us pizza and focaccia, ravioli and lasagna, tiramisu and amaretto do.
The culture that brought us all of that – plus the Renaissance, Gucci and gelato – certainly deserves better than a few childish drawings of Spanish sailing ships.
Italian-Americans around here still have time to make this day their own. They should break out the wearing o’ the green, red and white and fill every Italian restaurant in town, from Commellini’s to Luigi’s, with limoncello-soaked revelers.
Parades should be planned. Operas should be sung. Caramel macchiatos should be drunk.
Everyone would be proud to claim themselves Italian for a day, if only Italian-Americans truly broke loose.
I’d happily raise a glass to Domenico Ghirardelli alone, who perfected ground chocolate in 1867. I’ve fueled many an afternoon slump with a dark 60 percent cocoa square from a red foil packet bearing his name.
Done right, this holiday easily could be as tasty as Cinco de Mayo.
Sadly, about the only national event I can find celebrating Columbus Day this year involves a dreary laying of wreaths on a Columbus statue in Washington, D.C. A few cities have parades.
But Spokane’s calendar for tomorrow looks pretty empty.
This may come as a surprise to you, but tomorrow Washington state residents will be observing Leif Ericson Day. Last month Gov. Chris Gregoire issued an official proclamation setting Oct. 9 as the day to honor the Viking who beat Columbus by 500 years.
We’ll have to see if aquavit-inspired mayhem breaks out Monday, with Scandinavian Americans swapping Ole and Lena jokes and snarfing lutefisk and lefsa as though it were Norwegian Independence Day.
I’ve read enough Garrison Keillor – and been related to these people long enough – to know I shouldn’t hold my breath.
Don’t misunderstand: I have the sweetest of memories of the baking of the spritz, the hanging of the red hearts and the passing of the pickled herring, but we have Christmas for that.
Instead, if Italian Americans can’t kick this day up a notch, I think we’ll need to move on. Native American Day works for me.
Italians may grumble that they got to the second Monday in October first. To them I say: Life is beautiful.
In the name of Roberto Benigni, if you’re going to have a Roman holiday, you’ve got to make it fun.