Napoli York

Pictures of our adventures Naples can be found here.

New York is a Jewish City. It’s an everyday thing. It’s in the shrug the Korean grocer gives you, the casual colloquialisms of the Haitian cab driver, the joking comment made by the Dominican guy that you ask for directions on 9th Avenue. For someone who grew up in a Jewish household, fitting in in New York is the easiest, most comfortable thing in the world. Who you are is in the air, in the streets, in the fabric of the city.

It’s easy for me to feel this character, because it’s the character I know intimately. But the Jewish character of New York is only one part of it. Numerous immigrants from every corner of the globe have made New York home, and each has contributed something indelible to its landscape. Few of these groups have come in greater numbers, or been there longer, or contributed more to the cultural landscape than the Jews of Eastern Europe. But one that has are the Southern Italians. And one of the main sources of this Southern Italian immigration has been the city of Naples.

When I went to Naples, I wondered how much of the character of the city I see everyday in New York and just don’t notice. I wondered how much of this character I would be able to recognize in Naples, not having grown up in an Italian-American household, and being only moderately familiar with the culture.

The easiest part, of course, was the food. Naples is known as having the best food in Italy. In fact, pretty much everything that is generally thought of a “Italian Food” in the United States is specifically Neopolitan food (I mean, they sure aren’t talking about the slow-roasted offal that’s a staple of Roman food). For starters, Naples is the home of Pizza. Gennaro Lombardi brought the stuff from Naples to Little Italy back in the early 20th century, establishing Lombardi’s Pizzeria, still on the corner of Spring and Mott street over 100 years later.

Little Italy, of course, should in reality be called Little Naples. The area of Lower Manhattan centered on Mulberry Street was a specific Neopolitan neighborhood. This is probably why, out of all of the Italian areas of Manhattan, Mulberry Street survived as the Italian restaurant row called “Little Italy” - it had by far the best food. You can still see evidence of this Neopolitan heritage today every September during the Festival of St. Gennaro - the patron Saint of Naples. They have three festivals to the guy in Naples every year, two where his blood is said to miraculously congeal. Personally, I can think of better miracles, but I guess it’s something.

But there’s more than the food and the festival of course. I could see shadows of New York in the faces of the old men, in the gestures and body language of the citizens, and especially in the way people talked with their hands. Naples has almost an entire language based on hand gestures. I was told it comes from the hilly terrain. People couldn’t simply walk down the block to see a neighbor. Combine that with the inevitable noise that comes from a densely populated city, and sign language shorthand becomes the best and most efficient way to communicate with your neighbors across the valley.

I could also see New York in the flow of the city (I wonder how much the jaywalking culture in New York comes from Naples), and in the general atmosphere. I can’t know for sure, but I suspect the Lower Manhattan of 50 years ago bore a startling resemblance to the Naples of today.

I wonder how much is there that I missed. I suspect a lot. But I can see the soul of Naples in New York. I may not know the specifics, I may not be able to articulate the similarities with any eloquence, but as sure as I can tell you New York is a Jewish city, I can tell you that it’s there.