Welcome to Jersey.
Though our claim to fame is how much of a melting pot we are, having been the first stop off of Ellis Island, I honestly don't see a huge difference between us Jersians. We all talk fast, walk fast, and are too Italian to admit. And I'll admit it— I had a guido phase. Those poof pictures will haunt me until I die. I want to say that's a Jersey thing too... but it might just be me.
If you were blessed enough to grow up in the beautiful state we call New Jersey with Italian blood pumping through your veins; you'll understand what I'm saying.
1. Our family is everywhere.
No one ever moves far from home, and I guess there aren't many different activities in our area. I get a text once a day from a friend telling me they ran into my aunt at Dunkin Donuts.
2. We have a cousin in every town.
I didn't notice this one until I got to college and every conversation started out like this: "Oh you're from ______? My cousin lives there!"
3. We know how to speak Italian.
If you're lucky enough, you kept the language alive in your family and can claim to be bilingual. If not, never fear because most Italians are in your same boat. Learn the meanings of mangia, fangul, Grazie, and capisce. You'll be a native speaker in no time.
4. Everyone's last name ends in a vowel.
Taking attendance at school, the teachers knew to pronounce the vowel at the end of everyone's names. If they didn't, they ended up looking silly.
5. We're always ready for a story.
It could be the smallest trigger in the world: "Grandma, I'm going to West Orange to pick somethi—," "Have I ever told you about the one time when I was your age?..." New Jersey is small. There are overlaps in your childhood, your grandma's childhood, and the weird guy in the park that you always drive past.
6. Sunday dinners always pack the house.
We all live so close, how can we possibly leave out our second cousin's boyfriend's mother for a chance at meatballs? Oh, and dinner was at 2 p.m. but don't even think about saying you're hungry when 7 p.m. rolls around.
7. Everyone is scared of our uncles.
He may look like he is a part of the mafia, and I can't say for sure that he's not... but he's not, I promise. I think.
8. Olive Garden?
Unless you want your grandma to roll over in her grave, I suggest you eat a meal somewhere else. Olive Garden does NOT count as quality Italian food. Rocco's, Fernando's, and Antonio's Pizzeria all have much better fettuccine.
9. Endless pizza places.
Like every town in America, we have Dominoes and Papa Johns. That doesn't mean we actually eat their food, though. Each town in Jersey is home to an average of six pizza places. We only order take-out with the restaurant name that ends in a vowel. The top three are Santillo's, De Lorenzo's, and Maurizio's. Get what I'm saying?
10. Grandma's basement looked like a supermarket.
She says there was a sale on soup, you say she's losing it. When does a sale at the grocery store equate to buying every chicken noodle Campbells supplied the store with?
11. We pronounce words 'weird.'
It may be spelled mozzarella but in my head, I'm reading "moots-a-dell." We eat
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