Category Archives: Carnevale

A Pilgrim in this World

It’s Tuesday, February 17. This year, it is a day of celebration across many traditions and across vast expanses of this old earth. Chinese Lunar New Year begins today: it is the year of the Fire Horse. Ramadan is expected to begin this evening, if the new moon is seen in the sky, and it is expected to make its appearance tonight. And in this house, it is Shrove Tuesday: the final day of the Carnival Season: Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday, Pancake Tuesday: it is the night we have pancakes for supper. Tomorrow, when we rise, it will be Ash Wednesday. The Lenten Season will have begun: forty days of reflection and of abstaining, best we can, from excess. But that is not today. Shrove Tuesday is the day we use up all the provisions in the larder that we traditionally would not consume during the Lenten fast.

From the time when I was a boy, Lent meant no meat on Fridays, which, let’s face it, is not much to give up. In earlier times, though, the restrictions on food during Lent were quite extensive, and not just on Fridays, but all the days of Lent: no eggs, no meat, no lard, no milk, no cheese, no sugar… not much of anything truly enjoyable. Beans and pulses and vegetables and fish were acceptable, but not much else was on the table this time of year.

Sacrifice is not something we often think of, especially in this day and age, when we can find pretty much anything we want, whenever we want it. Fresh cherries in February? No problem, they’ve been flown here to your local supermarket from Argentina’s warm summer days. A slice of cheesecake from a bakery in New York flown overnight to you in Albuquerque? Also no problem. There’s no real need to eat seasonally, if you don’t want to, and if you’ve got the do-re-mi, you can get anything your heart desires delivered to your doorstep. The value of Lent, though, is that restraint is encouraged, and this idea that perhaps we should not have anything we want, whenever we want it, is, perhaps, a worthy quality, and one we should be mindful of at least every now and then. This is Lent. Lent is that reminder to be mindful.

It is also a good reminder to be kind, and respectful, and compassionate, because Lent is also a good reminder that we each are dust and to dust we shall return. Each of us. You and me in our comfortable houses. The kid who lives under the overpass. The immigrant trying to make it here and send a few bucks to the family back in the old country. The ones who get deported. The childish, disrespectful, grifting power-hungry blowhard in the White House. I don’t like calling people names, but come on: I can’t think of anyone I’d least like to be trapped in an elevator with. We all are dust and to dust we shall return. In the space between, why not just be kind and compassionate and honest and respectful to the other pilgrims in this world? As Father Seamus would recite, from memory, standing before the congregation, fingers grasping the sleeves of his vestments:

Lord, I believe in you: increase my faith.
I trust in you: strengthen my trust.
I love you: let me love you more and more.
I am sorry for my sins: deepen my sorrow.

I worship you as my first beginning,
I long for you as my last end,
I praise you as my constant helper,
And call on you as my loving protector.

I want to do what you ask of me:
In the way you ask,
For as long as you ask,
Because you ask it.

Let me love you, my Lord and my God,
And see myself as I really am:
A pilgrim in this world,
A Christian called to respect and love
All whose lives I touch.

This, to me, sums things up nicely. It is a good blueprint for a firm foundation, a good roadmap for our journey, whether we are Christian or Muslim or Jewish or Buddhist or Pagan or Agnostic or any thing we are. Change the words and make it right for you: Let me see myself as I really am: A pilgrim in this world, called to respect and love all whose lives I touch.

Anyway, I will think of these things tonight as we light the candles at our table and sit down to pancakes for our supper. And I will think of all of you, and wish only good things for you. We are all the same. We are all dust and to dust we shall return. That dust, mind you, came from the stars. It is some brilliant stuff.

N.B.: The original Convivio Book of Days calendar for February 2026 mistakenly placed the start of Ramadan at February 28… which, of course, was the date of the start of Ramadan in 2025. I’m still having trouble remembering it’s 2026. I’ve since updated the February calendar with the correct date for the start of Ramadan. Click here for that corrected calendar. 

Image: Cosmic dust in our Milky Way Galaxy, as photographed by NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope. This cosmic dust is a concentration of elements that are responsible for the formation of stars in our galaxy and throughout the universe. Public domain via Wikimedia Commons.

THIS WEEKEND at the SHOP
It’s Street Painting Festival time here in Lake Worth! If you’re coming to Lake Worth Beach for the event this Saturday and Sunday, why not make a little detour on your way in or out of town to come visit us at Convivio Bookworks? We’ll be open on Saturday, February 21, from 11 AM to 4 PM, and on Sunday, February 22, from 1 to 4 PM. We’ll be serving homemade Italian sweet treats and our own Löfbergs Swedish Coffee while you shop. Earlier on Sunday, we’ll be teaching a Convivio Cookery workshop: Come learn something new (and get your dinner ready while you’re at it) at our Mambricoli Pasta Making workshop on Sunday from 11 AM to 1 PM. So delicious and so easy! CLICK HERE for details and registration and to see what else is new at our Workshops page. And come see us at the Midnight Sun Festival! We’ll have a pop-up shop there on Friday, February 27, Saturday, February 28, and Sunday, March 1. This festival celebrating Finnish and Scandinavian culture is held annually at Bryant Park, on the Lake Worth Lagoon in Downtown Lake Worth Beach.

 

Carnevale, or Your Convivio Book of Days for February

It’s the First of February: Imbolc, and St. Brigid’s Day: Brigid, who bridges us from winter to spring in her subtle way. The weather may still be cold here in the Northern Hemisphere, but we find ourselves now about halfway between Midwinter Solstice and Vernal Equinox, and the acknowledgment that spring approaches is the value of St. Brigid’s Day. Spring’s first stirrings begin here.

And as it is the First of February, we’ve got a gift for you: It’s the Convivio Book of Days calendar for February. A printable PDF, as usual, so you may print it and keep it nearby to help remind you to live the ceremony of each day. The calendar is a fine companion to this blog.

Tonight, with the setting sun, St. Brigid’s Day becomes Candlemas Eve. With Candlemas, on the Second of February, Christmas and Yuletide, which have so many potential endings, do finally come to a proper close, for it is time to move on to what comes next… which is renewal, of course, and the promise of spring. Our convivial 17th-century British poet Robert Herrick reminds us that with Candlemas Eve, it is time to remove the yuletide greenery from our homes. From his poem “Ceremony Upon Candlemas Eve:”

Down with the rosemary, and so
Down with the bays and misletoe ;
Down with the holly, ivy, all,
Wherewith ye dress’d the Christmas Hall :
That so the superstitious find
No one least branch there left behind :
For look, how many leaves there be
Neglected, there (maids, trust to me)
So many goblins you shall see.

While the greenery should be removed by tonight, tradition would have us keep nativity scenes in our home through Candlemas, tomorrow. Candlemas, on the Second of February, is the day that candles are blessed in the church. It is also known as Purification Day, which harkens back to an old Hebrew tradition: forty days after the birth of a son, women would go to the temple to be purified. And there is that idea again: renewal––the same sort of renewal that Brigid brings us.

And so Mary went to the temple, for it was her tradition, and when she did, it was there that she and her infant child ran into the elders Simeon and Anna, who recognized the child as “the Light of the World.” This is the basis for the blessing of candles on this day, and the day’s lovely name (Candlemas), which is even more beautiful in other languages: la Candelaria in Spanish, la Chandeleur in French. In France, the traditional evening meal for la Chandeleur is crêpes. In Mexico, la Candelaria is a night for tamales and hot chocolate, while the procession and celebration in Puno, Peru, is typically so big, it rivals that of Carnival in Rio de Janeiro. And at sunset on Candlemas, we’ll go through the house, through every room, lighting every lamp, even for just a few minutes. My favorite song for the day, as I tell you each year around the start of February, is an old carol called “Jesus, the Light of the World.” Is it a carol for Candlemas? Who knows. Certainly the words echo those of Simeon and Anna, the elders in the temple, so as for me, I say it is.

And so this night we thank our Christmas tree and garland for their presence with us all through Christmas, and then quietly carry them out the back door and into a corner of the yard. We thank nature for the gifts she lent to us, and we return to nature what is hers. We’ll store these things these things there in the backyard, and they will become part of the habitat: a bit of fir and cedar amongst the bamboo and the palms and grasses. And when December comes around again, on the longest night, we will use what is left of the tree as fuel for our Midwinter solstice fire as we welcome down the stars and welcome back the light. I love this bit of ceremony. For us, it connects one Christmas to the next. Most importantly, we send Father Christmas off tonight and each year with respect and dignity… and with this, we are more prepared to welcome spring as we step onto the bridge that Brigid offers us.

SHOP OUR VALENTINE SALE!
At our online catalog right now use discount code LOVEHANDMADE to save $10 on your $85 purchase, plus get free domestic shipping, too. That’s a total savings of $19.95. Spend less than $85 and our flat rate shipping fee of $9.95 applies. We have many lovely new arrivals for Valentine’s Day. CLICK HERE to shop; you know we appreciate your support immensely.

COME TO THE SHOP!
Locals: the shop is open Saturdays from 11 AM to 4 PM at 1110 North G Street, Lake Worth Beach, FL 33460. And next weekend, it’s our VALENTINE MARKET: Friday evening, February 7, from 5 to 8 PM, and Saturday & Sunday, February 8 & 9, from 11 AM to 4 PM. You’ll love what we have in store for you!

 

Our cover star image for the February Book of Days calendar is a painting called “Carnival in Venice” by Aleksandra Ekster. Oil on canvas, 1930s [Public domain via Wikimedia Commons].

 

Pancakes, Heart & Soul

The Pancake Bakery

It’s a mid-week in mid-February and here come a couple of multi-faceted, multi-ceremonial days. It’s Tuesday today to begin with, and an extraordinary one at that: It is Mardi Gras in New Orleans and Mobile and Key West, and in Venezia, it is Martedi Grasso, and both the French and the Italian translate to Fat Tuesday. This is a movable celebration based on the timing of Lent, which is based on the timing of Easter, which is based on the timing of the full moon that comes with or after the Vernal Equinox. Tonight, the festivity of Carnival concludes. But for most of us, those of us who are far from the cities that celebrate Mardi Gras, tonight is simply a time to eat pancakes or crepes for supper, for the day is also known as Pancake Tuesday, and Shrove Tuesday.

Shrove Tuesday concludes Shrovetide, which is the time we’ve been in for several weeks now: the time after Christmas ends and before Lent begins, and there are many traditional foodways for Shrove Tuesday, even beyond the delectable pancake. Polish bakeries will have pączki today, a rich filled doughnut, and Germans will be making doughnuts, too, for this night they call Fasnacht: this night (nacht) before the fast. And in Sweden and Finland, you’ll find semlor on the table: buns scented with cardamom and filled with almond paste and cream. Our friends at Johan’s Joe, the Swedish coffeehouse in West Palm Beach where Seth and I have been known to buy a semla or two, tell us that originally semlor were made only for Fat Tuesday, or Fettisdagen, but nowadays Swedes bake semlor for all the Tuesdays of Lent. Traditions are living things; they do evolve.

How celebratory for a Tuesday to have pancakes for supper! But no matter if you are eating pancakes tonight, or doughnuts, or semlor, the idea behind all these things is the same. To clear the larder of the things that, traditionally, were not to be consumed during the Lenten fast, and in years past, this was a fairly extensive list (much more so than it is today): no eggs, no meat, no lard, no milk, no cheese, no sugar… no nothin’. And it was not just on Fridays; it was for the full forty days of Lent. When our ancestors fasted for Lent, they really meant it. Lent was forty days of beans and pulses and vegetables and fish and absolutely nothing fun. The Italians certainly understood this. Their traditional symbol for Carnival was a jolly plump fellow called il Carnevale Pazzo: Crazy Carnival. He’s usually seen dancing and playing a mandolin while a necklace of sausages dangles around his neck. But Lent brings la Quaresima Saggia: Wise Lent. She is thin and gaunt and somber. Head cast down, pensive, she is dressed in rags and carries a rope of garlic and dried cod.

It is il Carnevale Pazzo who tucks us into bed tonight on Shrove Tuesday, and in the morning, la Quaresima Saggia is the one who wakes us up, and when she does, we awaken to Ash Wednesday, the first day of our 40-day Lenten journey. Lent these days, it must be said, is no big sacrifice. Some folks give up sweets for Lent, or give up booze, or give up gossiping. All the Church asks is that we be more prayerful and more penitent and give up meat on Fridays. As a kid, for me this meant a season of fish sticks for supper on Fridays, or lentil soup without the sausage. Which was all fine with me. I was the sort of kid who ate anything that was put on my plate, no questions asked. Lucky for me, though, I was born in an age where fish sticks on Fridays met the obligatory sacrifice for Lent, and no one took away my eggs and cheeses and desserts. That would be a real sacrifice.

And then sometimes, like this year, St. Valentine runs headlong into la Quaresima Saggia, and therein lies a dilemma for young lovers who find themselves seated at fancy restaurants for an amorous Valentine’s Day dinner, debating whether they should have the fish or the lentil soup… or the Boeuf Bourguignon cooked to perfection. We may find ourselves sitting there, wondering WWJD (What Would Julia (Child) Do?).

I am not “old” but I am older, and Seth and I have more sense than to dine out on Valentine’s Day. One of our favorite Valentine’s Day celebrations was take out Thai noodles, picnic-style on a blanket on the floor, while we watched A Room with a View on DVD. This year, our niece is coming to dinner and she doesn’t eat meat, anyway. She won’t even realize it’s a ceremonial night of sacrifice when I put a bowl of Pasta Fagioli in front of her. It is an experiment, mind you: She’s not terribly adventurous when it comes to food, and this will be her first encounter ever, I am told, with the mild yet delectable cannellini bean. My hope is she will love cannellini beans and my version of Pasta Fagioli––cavatappi with those creamy white beans, infused with garlic and drizzled with fresh olive oil, seasoned just right with freshly-ground salt and pepper. Where love takes root, we say, let it grow. Especially on Valentine’s Day (and especially one combined with Ash Wednesday).

 

ONLINE SPECIALS: A COPPERMAN’S DAY SPECIAL, PLUS A VALENTINE SALE!
You’ll find our newest Copperman’s Day print and all our Copperman’s Day prints now at our our online catalog when you CLICK HERE. Order 5 or more of any of our mini prints (Copperman’s Day prints, B Mine Valentines, and our famous Keep Lake Worth Quirky prints) and use the code COPPERMAN when you check out; we’ll take $5 off your order to help balance out our flat rate domestic shipping charge of $9.50. (And if you ordered Copperman’s Day prints last week, when we were first announced them, worry not! Your orders should ship out tomorrow.)

If you’re doing more serious shopping (and we do have lots to offer if you are), you may instead use discount code LOVEHANDMADE to save $10 on your $85 purchase, plus get free domestic shipping, too. That’s a total savings of $19.50. Spend less than $85 and our flat rate shipping fee of $9.50 applies. Newest arrivals: Letterpress printed Valentine cards in the Valentine section, and check our Specialty Foods section for some incredibly delicious chocolate we found from Iceland, including a particularly Icelandic blend of milk chocolate and licorice. If you love both these things, well… Icelanders long ago discovered that covering black licorice in milk chocolate, then dusting the result in licorice powder, is just amazing. (Trust me: we’re on our third bag so far.)  CLICK HERE to shop; you know we appreciate your support immensely.

Image: “The Pancake Bakery” by Peter Aertsen. Oil on Panel, 1560. Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam. [Public domain] via Wikimedia Commons.