I’m only half Italian but it’s the half with which I identify. During my first six years of life, we lived in Howard Beach, an all-Italian neighborhood ten minutes from JFK International. I learned to speak there, adding “cannoli,” “ricotta” and “sfogliatelle” to my lexicon a decade before I’d be able to spell them (“What’s ‘manicotti’?” I asked my fifth grade teacher on a school trip to the Elmsford Dinner Theater. I knew it only as “managawt.”). When my mother wasn’t cooking x parmesan, we ate greasy triangles of Gino’s pizza, mussels and clams with white wine, butter and garlic sauce, and thirty flavors of Italian ice. Bakeries and delis abounded, sandwiching jewelry stores selling 14K gold Cornu necklaces to protect us all from the “evil eye.” I learned to tie my shoe at Our Lady of Grace Catholic preschool, and the first famous person I ever saw was our neighbor John Gotti.
It took some time to get adjusted to Marlboro, which is where we moved on my first day of first grade, but it wasn’t a total culture shock. We had Pizza Town and the Marlboro Bakery, which best captured the old world flavor and personal touch to which we were accustomed, and many last names still ended in vowels. When I left for college on the west coast, however, I was plumb out of luck. I stayed for six years, writing letters back to family in Brooklyn and Queens, detailing my efforts to find cannoli—or just one, any one, not even a good one—in the State of Oregon. Aunt Tess, the family matriarch who still lives in Canarsie, had a suggestion about how to change my luck. “Move back,” she said. “There’s no place like New York.”
Aunt Tess was right. Shortly after moving back, my luck changed. One element in the quest to get back to good was the discovery of Mama Theresa’s Italian Specialties at 357 Old Forge Hill Road in New Windsor, just north of the five corners, right off of Route 32.
Opened in December 2001, the deli is owned and operated by the DeStefano Family, former restaurateurs from Brooklyn who offer the closest thing to a New York City Italian deli experience this side of the five boroughs. Smoked mozzarellas hang over multiple counters stuffed with Boar’s Head cold cuts and Land o’ Lakes cheeses, prepared salads, take-out entrees and fresh ground meats. Fresh mozzarellas, salted and unsalted, are made every two hours and cannoli are made to order, the cream hand-piped into a plain or chocolate-covered shell as you wait. Forget Maine—this is the way life should be.
The colorful rows of imported Italian canned goods, clear jars of pickled vegetables and roasted red peppers and the smells of spiced meats, garlic and oregano at the counter, crowded with workers waiting to take your order, are enough to give you sensory overload. For novices, I suggest you begin with one of Mama Theresa’s stupendous hero sandwiches—the main reason for my two-pound weight gain during this week’s column research.
Heroes come in three sizes for three reasonable prices: roll ($5.95), mini hero ($6.50) or hero ($7.45). The roll is definitely enough to satisfy on a lunch break; the mini hero will leave you stuffed and the full-sized hero should not be attempted by anyone with a heart condition or difficulties lifting heavy objects. Do not be fooled by their clever names and invitingly colored abundant meats—these are serious sandwiches.
My favorite is the “Napoletano,” a cornucopia of prosciutto, sopressata, ham, fresh mozzarella, fresh roasted peppers, lettuce, tomato and homestyle Italian dressing. The balance of salty prosciutto, tangy sopressata and sweet ham is perfection, wrapped in thick soft Italian bread. I give my 100 percent guarantee that nobody can dislike this sandwich—except, perhaps, a vegetarian.
Though I grew up associating “vegetarian” with “picky eater,” I am working on building a bridge of understanding between our worlds. Happily, vegetarians will find several options on the heroes list and, yes, I even tried one. I had the “Italian Princess” on a roll and, I must say, the flavors are so complete that I forgot I was eating a meatless main course. The sandwich consists of marinated eggplant, roasted red peppers, provolone, sun-dried tomatoes, lettuce and tomato. I recommend substituting the house-made mozzarella for the provolone because that cheese is so subtle and satisfying that it would be a crime to pass up the opportunity. The marinated eggplant, which is the other star of this show, has a sharp taste of garlic and a whiff of brine that is countered by the soft mozzarella.
“One Hot Italian” is hot capicola, spicy sopressatta, prosciutto, Genoa salami, fresh mozzarella, roasted peppers, onions and Italian dressing. It’s not too spicy at all, but that doesn’t mean it’s not intimidating. The solid cross-section of meat sans vegetables, wearing a mozzarella hat, may be overwhelming to some. Even if you love meat as much as I do, this one will have you done for the day.
I suggest washing these down with a San Pellegrino Aranciata, an airy orange soda that lifts the palate and easily settles the stomach after a cold cut bonanza. For dessert, Manhattan Special pure espresso coffee soda offers a deep flavor and sweet twist on the traditional after meal drink. If you are one of the fortunate few blessed with a “dessert stomach,” an alternative storage space for sweet things even though you’re full to the gills, don’t forget to try fresh cannoli ($2.25/ea. large), covered in powdered sugar. Or you could always take the cannoli…to go.
Megan Labrise
(Orig. pub. date: July 3, 2007)
