October 27, 1916 – February 8th, 2011
Papa was born in Madison, NJ to Mary Palma and Phillip Cresitello. He had two older brothers Vincent and Michael and a younger sister Virginia. His mother died when he was 2 years old of the flu epidemic of 1918. His father lived with his Mother’s parents and raised the children with their help. When Papa was 9 years old his father died of TB and he and his siblings became orphans. His Grandmother, grandfather and aunts and uncles took over raising them in the Orchard section of Madison, NJ.
Vincent was the scholar and talented football player, he graduated from Villanova University. Mike disappeared and was busy chasing women for years while Virginia got married and had children. Papa was a good boy but not a good student. In today’s world he would be considered as having a learning disability due to the fact the he was two months premature. Because he was not a good student Papa stayed home with his grandparents while the brothers and sister carried on with their lives.
Papa’s grandfather made him quit school after he finished the eighth grade and put him to work digging ditches with a friend of the ‘old man’, as papa called him. The friend was Mike Piccone, who everyone called Fat Mike. When I was a child we would go to visit Fat Mike and his wife Lucy, he had become like a father to Papa. They lived in a big house on Main Street in Madison. I remember them feeding us plenty of Italian food. The first course was a big plate of provalone cheese with salami, olives, peppers and as always crusty Italian bread. Mama told me a story about "Fat Mike" going with them to a Chinese restaurant, he had never eaten chinese food before. When they brought out the fortune cookies Mike ate his, fortune and all.
Papa also had to help his grandmother putting the clothes through the ringer washing machine, chopping the wood for the wood stove and working in his grandfather’s big garden among other things. Most Italians had gardens back then and loved their fresh veggies. They grew eggplant, lettuce, Jersey tomatoes and corn, asparagus, green beans, zucchini, cucumbers, basil, garlic and anything else that grew in that climate. Since Grandpa was getting old and sick he would oversee Papa tending to the garden and yell at him if he broke a stalk or stepped on a veggie. Papa wanted to play baseball with the other boys but he never got a chance to because of all the chores he had to do. He still regretted this until the day he died because he absolutely loved baseball. Many years later he had a garden in our backyard and it was very prolific. The man could grow anything. His front yard on Mill Street was filled with flowers that everyone would stop to admire.
He graduated from digging ditches to becoming a landscaper. He did landscaping at Baltusrol Golf Club which was very exclusive back in the day and still is. I think a membership is over a cool million. He also could be a little bit of a con artist. He told me stories about how he and my Uncles would get roofing jobs and pretend that they knew what they were doing and get paid for work that they only pretended to do. God only knows how many roofs still leaked after they worked on them. Times were hard and they had to make money any way they could. They ran card games in their grandparent’s basement, made wine and sold it for ¢25 a quart and sold fruits and veggies from their grandfathers garden. Grandpa wondered why all his produce was disappearing. They told him rabbits where eating it all.
Papa grew into a very handsome man and was still good looking at 94. He met Mama in the 1939 on a blind date. They dated for a few years and then WWII broke out. Uncle Sam wanted papa. He was drafted into the Army. He and Mama then decided to get married before he went off to war. On Dec. 23, 1941 they did just that and 3 days later Papa had to report for duty. They didn’t have much of a Honeymoon.
Papa drove an armored tank for 4 years through France and Germany with Patton. He was shot in the leg by a sniper in France and then sent to Oklahoma to recuperate where Mama went to visit him. Once recovered, he was sent back to the front. He received the Purple Heart from President Roosevelt. After his death he was sent a lovely certificate from the current President thanking him for the sacrifice he made for his country.
Papa didn’t smoke but he always drank. During the war he would get cartons of cigarettes and save them and trade them for booze. He did that with anything worth trading. I can remember his doing this all his life. Papa knew how to barter. He traded milk, cream and butter, for cigars, whiskey and even baked goods when he worked for the Dairy. Food was always in the picture. He brought goodies home from bakeries and candy shops that he would bartered for.
Mama was not a pie maker and so he would barter for pies. His favorite was coconut custard pie. He would bring home the biggest coconut custard pie I have ever seen and it was always creamy, filled with coconut and the crust was flaky and golden brown. I helped him eat many of those pies, when Mama was not looking ofcourse.
Papa always worked two jobs when I was a child but once he got the job at Brendan’s dairy he cut back to one. By this time Mama was working as a cook in the school so he didn’t need a second job. He got up at 3:30 am and left the house at 4:00. To this day I believe that is why my sister and I are very early risers. Papa had a commercial route he did not deliver to homes. His last delivery was a restaurant/bar called Angie and Mins. Papa loved the place and the owners. It is my guess that he would have his first drink of the day there. He told me once that Sam the Plumber (Mafia) would come in for a drink and sit and talk to him occasionally.
Since Papa was able to cut back to one job he and his brother Vincent went into business together. They bought a laundromat on the corner of Mill St next to Vian's Market. Papa made many friend there. My sister told me, at Papa's memorial service, a man came in to the funeral home and said when he was a little boy he lived right next store to the U Wash Laundromat and papa was so nice to him he never forgot him. It gave me chills and warmed my heart to hear that.
Since Papa was able to cut back to one job he and his brother Vincent went into business together. They bought a laundromat on the corner of Mill St next to Vian's Market. Papa made many friend there. My sister told me, at Papa's memorial service, a man came in to the funeral home and said when he was a little boy he lived right next store to the U Wash Laundromat and papa was so nice to him he never forgot him. It gave me chills and warmed my heart to hear that.
Papa got home by noon and at 2:00 went to pick up mama at work. They were very close and although they had fights, especially when papa got drunk at parties and embarrassed her, they did everything together. Papa didn’t like to gamble, well that is not exactly true. Many nights after dinner they would go over to Zizi Rosie and Uncle Bens’ house and have a nice unfriendly game of gin rummy. I say that because as much as they played they always fought over the game. I think they enjoyed that the more than the actual game. If you were in ear shot you would here ‘ba fungool’ and my father calling my uncle a cheater and vise a versa. They were only playing for pennies but if you didn’t know better you would think it was for thousands. Papa also became a very good bowler. He join a league and every year he would go to the Banquet and get Tropheys. He alwasy bragged that his average was 189 which did not mean anything to me. As you can see by his picture he had the trophy in one hand, a cigar in his mouth and lots of booze to drink. Mama displayed those ugly plastic trophys on the matel for years.
Mama didn’t drive so Papa drove her everywhere. I remember him taking us into New York City on our clothes shopping trips to Macy’s. Mama always bragged about how papa was so patient and would just hang around and wait for us, but I personally think he went to a favorite bar and tipped a few. I’m sure he knew plenty of them because before he married Mama he spent a lot of time in the City drinking. Booze was as much a part of Papa’s life as eating. I think it was the same for all the men in the family. Every Sunday morning, after the wives where in church or busy cooking Sunday dinner, the uncles would show up dress to kill and have a few drinks, as they made their rounds from house to house. Papa would put the Scotch, Rye and Wine on the table with the shot glasses along with biscotti, Anisette and coffee. They would arrive together or one at a time and belt back a few shots and then move on to the next house, taking papa with them. I don’t know how he did it but in his 60’s Papa stopped drinking. No AA no anything, just stopped in the blink of an eye. I asked him what made him stop and he said it because of all the new laws regarding drinking and driving. How much you want to bet he got pulled over and it scared the booze right out of him.
Papa worked for the dairy until he was 62 and then worked for his son in law, Scott Specht driving truck and then for his Nephew Donald Cresitello working as a handyman for his apartment building. After that Papa was a school crossing guard in Morristown. He loved that job and loved all the children. He made sure he had a supply of candy and lollipops to give them. Everyone he came in contact with always enjoyed his sense of humor; he was always quick with a joke and a smile. He worked until he was 85.
When he was 87 we moved him and Mama to Arizona. Mama had Alzheimer’s and Papa could not care for her any longer. Mama died a few months later, they had been married for 62 years. Papa stayed on to live with Joe and I. He loved living in Arizona especially in the winter. He said he traded in his snow shovel for a bathing suit.
When he was 87 we moved him and Mama to Arizona. Mama had Alzheimer’s and Papa could not care for her any longer. Mama died a few months later, they had been married for 62 years. Papa stayed on to live with Joe and I. He loved living in Arizona especially in the winter. He said he traded in his snow shovel for a bathing suit.
Papa had a good appetite even in his 90’s and I loved cooking for him. He never was a sick man and could eat anything. He loved chocolate, doughnuts, potato chips, cookies, cake, pie and all the Italian dishes mama made for him. I enjoyed food shopping for him and started cooking more Italian dishes when he lived with us. I tried to make them like Mama did but I never thought I achieved her level of cooking. Papa thought my cooking was great. He told everyone how lucky he was to have a daughter who cooked so well. He was another Foodie. He loved my chicken cutlet parmesan, linguini with clam sauce, stuffed artichokes, salad, which he had to have every night and good crusty Italian Bread. I think the chicken cutlet parmesan was his favorite because every time I made it for him he went out his way to thank me. He would even buy me flowers when we went to the grocery store.
He enjoyed going grocery shopping with me on the first Wednesday of the month because that is Senior Citizen Day. That is the day they give out free coffee and doughnuts. He loved free stuff. If he didn’t eat the doughnuts at the store he would bring them home in a napkin. This would annoy the hell out of me because he had plenty of goodies at home but it was free so he had to take it. Napkins, ’forget about it’, if they were out on the counters he would take as many as he could fit in his pockets. Those little packets of salt, pepper, sugar, weren’t safe either. I had to put my foot down when I found that one of his dresser drawers was filled with them along with ants feasting on the sugar. He was not a poor man but I guess it was a carryover from his childhood and living through the depression that made him a little bit of a thief. I swear if it was not nailed down he took it.
Papa died a year ago at 94 and I miss him, especially watching him enjoy the food I made for him. He was never a burden and was very generous to us. Although when I was younger he was not my favorite person I grew to love him. So here’s to you Papa and for anyone reading this I am giving you the recipe for one of Papa’s favorite dishes. Papa you are my Heart.
Chicken Cutlets Parmesan
1 ½ lb. chicken cutlets or boneless skinless chicken breast
2 eggs, beaten
2 cups Italian style flavored breadcrumbs
1 cup grated parmesan cheese
Salt and pepper to taste
½ lb. mozzarella cheese
Italian tomato sauce, your choice
Pound the cutlets with a mallet between sheets of wax paper to a ¼ inch thinness. Or if using chicken breast slice them in half lengthwise and pound them to the same thinness. Dip the cutlets in the beaten egg then in breadcrumbs that has been mixed with ½ cup of parmesan cheese and salt and pepper. Fry in 3 tablespoons of olive oil until golden brown. If oil gets dark, wash frying pan and add fresh oil and finish frying the cutlets. In a 13 X 9 pan line the bottom with 1 cup tomato sauce and layer the chicken on top of it. Pour more sauce on top of chicken and then put a slice of mozzarella on each cutlet, sprinkle with remainder of parmesan cheese. Bake for 35 minutes in a preheated 350% oven or until cheese is bubbly. Mama always made enough sauce on Sunday to use in her dishes during the week but you can use any sauce of your choosing. I like Classico tomato basil and use it in many of my dishes. Sometimes I add Munster cheese to the recipe because it has a nice smokey flavor and adds a little more zip to the dish.
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