For many years, I’ve longed to visit Italy to discover the other half of my heritage. I yearn to toss a coin into Rome’s Fontana di Trevi, to ride a gondola along Venice’s Grand Canal, flirt with a handsome Italian man named Guido, and most importantly, to sample authentic cuisine.
Since I can’t afford a plane ticket or room and board overseas, it’s nice to know that I don’t have to leave Milwaukee to indulge in the bona fide tastes of Italy.
Located just a meatball’s throw from the Summerfest grounds in the Third Ward, the Italian Community Center (ICC) offers a glimpse into Italy’s culture through black and white photographs adorning the building’s walls, a taste of genuine Italian dishes and even a round of bocce ball if you’re so inclined. Clearly, there’s no destination outside of Italy that’s more Italian and so close to home than Milwaukee’s lovely ICC.
Last Sunday, my mom and I went to the ICC, for their thirteenth annual Taste of Italy sampling event. This unique fundraiser offered some fare that, to many, would represent the quintessential Italian restaurant: pizzas, meatballs, pastas and cannoli; even opera was blaring from the speakers overhead.
For only $1.25 per ticket, per serving, we had the opportunity to taste nearly the full array of homemade Italian entrée items, appetizers, desserts and beverages on hand – I have to say, that was quite the deal!
My mom picked me up from my apartment around lunchtime and just a few minutes later we arrived at the ICC. The event had only been open for about a half hour, but the entire place was already brimming with people of all ages, many who fit the stereotypical Italian family so much that I bet there were at least 20 Vinnys, 50 Tonys and 60 Marias there at one time. For real.
As soon as we entered into the reception area, our noses were completely overwhelm by the nostalgic fragrance of garlic, oregano and marinara. Ahhhhhh! As I deeply inhaled, I could feel each aroma invade my nostrils and tease my taste buds and permeate my lungs. It smelled just like my grandma’s kitchen. I loved it!
After glancing over the menu, we made a beeline to the ticket tables located in the foyer and proceeded to buy ten dollars worth of tickets before receiving a Styrofoam tray, which we carried into the Pompeii Grand Ballroom.
The grandiose ballroom housed eighteen food stations that lined the room and encircled dozens of large round tables, each draped in an ivory cloth and garnished with a flickering tea light. The immense yet elegant chandeliers dangling from the vaulted ceiling made the place look fairly contemporary and magnificent, albeit a little tacky.
The massive ballroom was easily able to accommodate the constant flow of adults and children weaving in and out of the enormous lines and filling their trays with Italian specialties. Once we figured out the system, my mom and I followed suit and were able to weasel our way into the path of hungry people to gather up our lunch.
Each food station was conveniently marked by a white sign and each station was given a number that matched its order on the menu. This relieved some of the congestion because it was easy to find what we wanted to try.
The lines, however, were still quite long as herds of people bled into one another, so it was kind of difficult siphoning through the lines and getting to our desired station. But, the service itself was amicable and relaxed, yet well-paced as most stations had four ICC volunteers manning them: one collecting tickets and dropping them into a coffee can while two prepped each plate and another served-up the steaming dish.
Finding a place to sit was an even trickier task, though. Of all of the hundred-some tables filling the Pompeii Ballroom, there wasn’t a single seat unoccupied. After searching, we found ourselves in a narrow room with floor-to-ceiling courtyard windows.
This galleria was cluttered with a maze of tables and chairs that we snaked through until we spotted a high top table to stand at. Being pressed up against a wall while trying to avoid colliding with other table-searchers wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement, but we were glad to finally be able to dig into our entrees.
My mom and I shared eight dishes all together, including a delicious meatball sandwich, a hearty rice ball, a bowl of chicken pastink and lentil soup, a puffy piece of fried dough, a slice of sfingione and a fresh Italian salad to complete our feast. All of the food was homemade by the ICC’s Cafe La Scala chef, some of the vendors from Festa, or ICC volunteers who all reminded me of my Italian grandma and who pledged “Italian women are the real cooks.”
Our favorite dish was the eggplant Parmesan, breaded eggplant topped with marinara sauce and Parmesan cheese, while our least favorite was the manicotti, which was marginal and somewhat bland. The portions were so generous that we were thankful that we brought a healthy appetite since there were still desserts to devour.
We cleaned up our spot and followed the course down a hallway decorated with sepia photos illustrating the lives of Milwaukee’s Italian-American immigrants. As we walked further down the straight and narrow corridor, the faint melodies of bagpipes, oboes and accordions grew louder and eventually drowned out Frank Sinatra’s crooning, which was playing in the lobby.
Among the jovial atmosphere of the Festa Hall was a bountiful tapestry of mouthwatering sweets consisting of cannoli and éclairs from Sciortino's Bakery, red, green and white cookies, pizzles, chocolate gelato and spumoni. As we scanned the assortment of delicacies, I felt like a little kid on a sugar high whose eyes were bigger than her stomach.
Some how, though, I was momentarily distracted by the large troupe of costumed dancers performing traditional line and circle routines at the front of the hall. My mind switched back to dessert mode almost instantaneously once we bought four more tickets and ordered a sweet cheese-filled cannoli, a bag of pizzles, and two small scoops of spumoni.
Even though the Festa Hall continued to pulse with music and lively dancing and we were thoroughly entertained there, the pleasant spring afternoon beckoned us to the open courtyard where we grabbed a seat at one of the wrought-iron patio tables nearest to the large, gurgling fountain and stone statue.
Without delay I scooped up a spoonful of ice cream trying to get a piece of each of the chocolate, pistachio and cherry ribbons. I savored the creamy, fresh-picked cherry flavor and was pleasantly surprised to crunch a pistachio nut or chocolate chunk with every bite.
Aside from the cool breeze coming off Lake Michigan, the patio was the perfect spot to indulge in my favorite ice cream. My mom and I both agreed that the ICC’s open air patio would be a fabulous space for an outdoor reception, lunch, or barbecue, especially with the picturesque backdrop of downtown Milwaukee.
We took some time to digest and enjoy the ambiance outside before we left. My mom told me stories about my great grandparents and accounts of growing up in a tightly knit Italian family.
This entire day made me realize that even though I might not be able to travel to Venice or Rome or Tuscany anytime soon, it’s nice to have the option of getting my Italian fix by indulging in a lunch at the Italian Community Center or just catching up on old times with the Italian side of my family.
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Italian Community Center
631 E. Chicago St.
Milwaukee, WI 53202
Hours: 8 a.m. to 10 p.m. Monday through Saturday
Admission and Parking are FREE (except on festival days)
What a fun outing for you and your mother!! (and my mouth is watering for lunch and it is only 9:26 a.m.)
I was fortunate to go to Rome’s Fontana di Trevi, and to ride a gondola along Venice’s Grand Canal, AND flirt with a handsome Italian man named - but I don't know if his name was Guido. I can't say much about cuisine, as we were on one of those "tours". Perillo. It was 1985, but if you were to go I'm sure you would still have fun! Check them out!!
Posted by: wfbdoglover | May 06, 2008 at 09:29 AM
BTW, the food wasn't "bad", just different - like scampi with everything still intact, pizza with pitted olives - as they never heard of black olives on a pizza before - they thought we were nuts! HAHA the memories! But for 17 and being able to go to a night club.... and buy a gucci purse from the gucci store in Rome - that is a memory I will never forgot!
Maybe some day I'll post a blog about our trip. You know, my dad didn't have the nick name "Clark W. Griswold" for nothing!
Posted by: wfbdoglover | May 06, 2008 at 10:28 AM
This sounds like a great event!
To be honest, I never really knew what the Italian Community Center was/did besides being involved with Festa. Obviously, this event is news to me, but it’s something I'd love to check out next year with my family and friends. Until then, I might have to stop in for lunch or dinner at Cafe La Scala – the food looks soooooo good!
Posted by: Amanda | May 08, 2008 at 09:46 AM