If Italian delicacies such as fresh pasta, seasonal refreshments and traditional pastries pique your interest, you need not travel to the Amalfi coast. On Sept. 7, Fordham University students didn’t have to look any further than their own stomping grounds to experience the best that the Italian culinary world has to offer.
Arthur Avenue is known familiarly as the Bronx’s own Little Italy, and as such, it is the host for the annual Italian food festival known as Ferragosto. I was ignorant of this shindig my first year, so I made a point to go this year once I caught wind of its happening.
Walking down to the festivities with my friends, we happened to pass an older Bronx resident who spotted us as students and started informing us of the historical roots of the festival. During our walk-and-talk, she revealed that, technically, Ferragosto is a celebration of harvest in mid-August, explaining the “-agosto” terminology. However, since students aren’t present until later and the weather is more inviting in September, the Bronx has taken a loose interpretation of the name.
This back-and-forth clued me in to two new pieces of information: the etymology of Ferragosto and how obviously identifiable I am as a student.
Starting at 187th Street and spanning a mere two blocks to Crescent Avenue, the road is strictly human traffic. Jam-packed with cigar, pasta, pastry and drink vendors, there is hardly room for the masses of pedestrians that want a taste of all the festival has to offer.
The most noticeable lines at the time I was attending were for a fresh zeppole — a sort of Italian beignet — stand, the tent for Frankie’s Restaurant Arthur Avenue specializing in Aperol Spritzes and vodka pasta and freshly filled cannoli courtesy of Gino’s pastries. With the help of my friend, we divided and conquered to get the latter two of that list.
The vodka pasta was perfectly al dente, and despite the humid conditions and the cannoli maintained that signature crisp shell. For a combined total of $15 ($10 for the pasta and $5 for the cannoli), the portions were a tad disappointing, but the taste provided a perfect distraction from any possible overcharge.
As a consolation, there was a tent offering free bowls of marinara rigatoni, which I quickly took advantage of.
Beyond just offering consumables, the streets were filled with live music and clothing stands. I got myself a free, temporary tattoo. Some artists were playing Italian American classics, while others offered a more contemporary mix and even karaoke!
There were dining areas every so often, but most attendees opted to stand and wander while eating. I was triple fisting a container of pasta, a cannoli and a lemonade, myself. With all the stimulation happening in the area, I was content to juggle my dinner while hearing a serenade from a man donned in an all-white suit.
The organizers advertise that the festival goes on rain or shine, and this Sunday proved that claim. Although it was raining earlier in the day, by the time I entered the scene, business seemed to be in full swing.
Walking down the street on either side were observers, looking at the crowd from their apartment balconies. There was no limit to the demographics present, with people spanning all age groups.
For a Fordham student, seeing Arthur Avenue in the light of day may make it seem like an alien land. In contrast with the night scene, one can see the day scene of the iconic Belmont avenue.
Seeing families and friends patronize all the small businesses and enjoy an afternoon of food, drink and music is a refreshing reminder of the tight-knit community that exists amongst the college ecosystem. Locals were catching up, regulars and shop owners were chatting as old friends and the street was filled with an air of camaraderie.
Anyone who went to the festival had the unique experience of Little Italy, as many residents do, sans nightlife. For those unable to make the festival, there is no shortage of beautiful fall days ahead suited for ambling down the street, getting an espresso and biscotti from a local shop and simultaneously enjoying a mix of classic Italian music and hip-hop jams blaring from a moped passerby. Now that’s amore.
