Celebrating Michaelmas with New and Borrowed Traditions

In honor of St. Michael, we celebrated the Feast with Lacryma Christi

Holy Archangel Michael, defend us in battle, that we may not perish in the tremendous day of judgment.

The rain may have spoiled our plans to eat out, which is always a risk with outdoor dining, but we didn’t let it ruin our Michaelmas celebration. Relocating the party back to my place for dinner and drinks, luckily I had a few key items in my pantry and bar so we didn’t have to order out for some pizza.

After erecting a makeshift shrine to our glorious patron, revelers naturally gravitated to the alcohol and helped themselves to a cordial for our opening toast. First saluting the Angel of the Lord, as always, we also drank to the memory of our Kings and our ancestors.

Makeshift shrine with holy cards, pocket statuette, and reliquary with stones from the Apparition Grotto at the Santuario di San Michele in Gargano, Puglia

While everyone was discussing their favorite Michaelmas traditions, I introduced them to mine: Lacryma Christi (Christ Tears), an ancient Neapolitan wine produced on the slopes of Monte Vesuvio. Admittedly, I first heard the wine’s origin story on a vineyard in Naples back in 2007, so the “tradition” is just a few years old. Additionally, the wine is only sold at select enoteche so it is still surprisingly hard to find in the States. Fortunately for me, Peppino’s (7723 3rd Ave.) in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn carries it.

As it was told to me, when war broke out in Heaven and St. Michael and the angels cast out Lucifer and his demons, the Father of Lies tore off a piece of the empyrean kingdom as he fell. Plunging to earth, the celestial fragment landed in Campania and transformed the Gulf of Naples into a veritable paradise on Earth. However, the spot where Satan crashed was blighted. Convulsing and spewing hellfire, Mount Vesuvius was formed. When Christ saw the devastation He wept, but miraculously His tears made the volcanic soil fertile and grapevines sprung from the ash.

Old souvenir dish highlighting the unparalleled beauty of the Gulf of Naples

Seeing as goose is a traditional delicacy for the Feast, at least in Ireland and Great Britain, I busted open the goose liver pâté I was saving for movie night and served it on crostini with a modest antipasti (peppers, olives, provolone). Though a far cry from the succulent roasted waterfowl usually served on the holiday, it was the closest thing I had on hand.

In our household we like to eat cavatelli on special occasions, so I made some with the leftover sugo di pomodoro I had from Sunday’s dinner. Finished off with some pecorino Romano and fresh basil (after the picture), I plated it on an old souvenir dish I bought for my parents about thirty years ago at E. Rossi & Co. (193 Grand St.) in Little Italy, New York.

Cavatelli al pomodoro

For dessert, I served the remaining blackberries I had for breakfast with some sweetened ricotta and Sicilian honey. Blackberries, like goose, are an American Michaelmas tradition originating in the British Isles, and similar to our Lacryma Christi myth, they are connected to the fall of the rebel angels. According to legend, when Lucifer plummeted to Earth he landed in a thicket of thorny blackberry bushes. Spitting in rage, he pissed-himself from the pain, thus ruining the berries for the duration of winter.

Timed perfectly, the dinner lasted the full length of the first televised Presidential Debate, so we were thoroughly distracted and completely uninterested in watching that political farce. From what I could tell via social media the next day, I'm glad I missed it. Finishing off the wine, we ended the enjoyable evening with a couple more shots of amaro and espresso. Evviva San Michele Arcangelo!

~ Giovanni di Napoli, September 30th, Feasts of Sant’Amato di Nusco and San Girolamo

Blackberries with fresh ricotta and honey