The 37th Annual National Italian American Foundation Dinner (Photos)

The 1,500 guests were treated to Mike Piazza, Italy’s foreign minister, Italian food and wine, and jovial good company.
At the head table, Letizia Moratti stands out in a red dress. On her left is Ambassador Bisogniero. Photograph by Kevin Allen.
At the head table, Letizia Moratti stands out in a red dress. On her left is Ambassador Bisogniero. Photograph by Kevin Allen.

The National Italian American Foundation gala is one of the best-known formal dinners
in Washington each year. It’s talked about because of its size, its guest list, the
passion of the crowd, and, well, its Italian-ness. Take the swag bag, for example.
It included olive oil, balsamic vinegar, Baci chocolates, a gift certificate for tomato
sauce, and a copy of the autobiography of Dion DiMucci. Who? Before there were the
Beatles there was Dion, a Bronx-born doo-wop sensation and proud Italian-American.

Dion himself wasn’t among the guests at this year’s 37th annual black-tie gala at
the Washington Hilton, but who could have noticed in the crush of notable Italians
and Italian-Americans? Especially at the exclusive VIP reception that preceded dinner,
where guests sipped California Chardonnay and a Sicilian red while they nibbled on
chunks of Parmesan. Fabio canceled at the last minute, but Italian-American heartthrob
and baseball all-star
Mike Piazza was there, and served as the evening’s master of ceremonies. The former New York
Mets catcher talked about the Nationals postseason loss of the night before, calling
it “a heartbreak.” But, he added, “baseball is not fair.” Before he could say another
word, he was wrapped in a bear hug by
Jerry Colangelo, former owner of the Arizona Diamondbacks and the NBA Phoenix Suns; then they were
joined by
Geno Auriemma, head coach of the University of Connecticut’s champion women’s basketball team.

Across the packed room the Italian ambassador,
Claudio Bisogniero, stood with Italy’s Minister of Foreign Affairs,
Giulio Terzi di Sant’Agata, one of the evening’s speakers. Nearby were Supreme Court justice
Samuel Alito and Monsignor
Peter J. Vaghi of Bethesda’s Church of the Little Flower. In another area, friends swarmed
Letizia Moratti, one of the evening’s honorees for her work as president of the Friends of San Patrignano.
She called herself “proud to be an Italian,” adding, “I am Italian because General
Patton saved my father from the Nazi concentration camps. I love America. It is very
close to all the principles I have put in my life.” She praised the American people
as “young and courageous” and for having “a strong sense of social responsibility.”
The fun part of the cocktail party, apart from the festive mood, was to hear so much
Italian being spoken. Some guests greeted one another in English and then quickly
switched to Italian, or vice versa. The vitality of the beautiful and animated language
gave the party texture.

The dinner was held in the Hilton’s vast grand ballroom, which had the balsamic-esque
scent of a good Italian market, thanks to the robust plate of antipasto at each place
setting. When dinnertime was called, the 1,500 guests flooded into the room, but no
one sat down. After all, they’d paid $500 and up for their tickets—they wanted to
party. They visited with one another through repeated calls to take their seats. Piazza
did finally get them to sit down, and his welcome was followed by the singing of two
national anthems: the Italian National Anthem by Giada Valenti and the American anthem
by Christina Carlucci, both of New York.

I was assigned to table 102, in the middle of the room, and my tablemates were all
from out of town—some from New York City, some from New Jersey, and one from Florence,
Italy. Patrick O’Boyle, a lawyer from North Arlington, New Jersey, who is half-Italian,
had a lot on his mind, in particular wanting to slam the popular cable TV reality
programs
Real Housewives of New Jersey and
Jersey Shore. He said they promote a not-funny caricature of Italians and he wishes they weren’t
on the air. On the other hand, he was a fan of
The Sopranos. Most of all, he wanted to talk about the NIAF and the affection so many Italian
Americans have for the annual dinner.

When it was time to dig into the meal, I must admit to some skepticism. In such an
authentically Italian atmosphere, could the Hilton kitchen produce an appropriate
meal? I’ve had many banquet dinners there, typically chicken breast or a variation
on surf and turf, and wondered if they would step it up for this one. They did. The
antipasto included ceci beans, pickled vegetables, grilled red and yellow peppers,
roasted baby eggplant, shaved prosciutto, Calabrese olives, a chunk of provolone,
and fresh arugula. The pasta course was penne, served tableside and tossed in a tomato
sauce. Waiters came around with bowls of shaved ricotta salata. The main course was
a roasted bone-in veal chop in herbs and pepper, served with eggplant and sage pudding,
cipollini onions, and green beans. The dessert was tiramisu. There were bottles of
wine on the table at all times; a Gaglioppo red and a white, both from Calabria.

But what did my tablemates think of the meal? The Italian Cultural Foundation’s
Gina Biancardi-Rammairone spoke up right away. “It’s the best food we’ve had at this dinner in 25 years,” she
said. With that, everyone else at the table agreed, picked up their wine glasses to
toast, and then continued talking and eating.

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