EVERETT - The Sons of Orsogna Club was established by Italian immigrants from a tiny, mountaintop village on the east coast of Italy. The Orsognese, as they are called, brought with them a shared dialect, an unbreakable sense of community, and a few traditions. One is Giovedi degli amici, "Thursday of friendship," otherwise known as "rabbit night."
The event is usually a pre-Lenten indulgence. But things were different this year. A fire broke out last month in the club the group ordinarily uses. The city rallied, as did the neighbors. Rabbit night was later than usual, delayed until last Saturday. But when the Sons of Orsogna sat down to their traditional meal, 400 men - the annual rabbit dinner is stag - were in attendance at the Everett armory.
You might think pasta and marinara sauce is simple. And it can be. But it had to be made in cauldrons for this meal; the stove at the armory held an ocean of burbling sauce on all of its burners. To cook 200 pounds of pasta, the club needed more room: Members rigged two-by-fours and tarps to add a makeshift kitchen, and on the pavement they added burners running on propane tanks.
The space where the Sons of Orsogna usually holds meetings is on Main Street. Rabbit night would have taken place there and probably drawn only the club's 200 members. But though it expanded the guest list, the fire destroyed the premises, the site of countless bocci games, shared espressos, wedding receptions, and celebration parties. After the tragedy, Everett Mayor Carlo DeMaria stepped in and offered the group the use of the armory.
The Orsognese turned out in force on Saturday. Joe Pace, a local grocer who emigrated from Orsogna in 1954, and owns J. Pace & Son grocers, donated 20 cases of pasta; 300 rabbits; veal, pork, and beef for the sauce; olive oil, garlic, and tomatoes. Every table was outfitted with a gallon of Carlo Rossi burgundy and a loaf of bread, all courtesy of Pace. Cooks were easily recognizable because Pace gave them red sweatshirts and aprons bearing his logo.
Pasta and its traditional marinara were the first course. The recipe for the sauce is not a guarded secret but try getting it out of eight boisterous, wine-fueled cooks. One says there's veal, pork, and beef. Bones, adds another, and garlic. The finished sauce, rich, smooth, and satisfying, reveals little about its ingredients. The men in this group call the marinara "gravy." As for the pasta shape, the preferred one is perciatelli, an unusual thick spaghetti with a hollow center and an almost meaty, fresh-pasta texture; many Orsognese think this pasta picks up the most sauce.
Each man was given half of a rabbit, which had been marinating for days in a deep bath of white wine, lemon, and rosemary and had spent the hours before the feast roasting slowly. Other menu items included peas and salad.
Before the group sat down to eat, club president Domenic Di Rico addressed his fellow Orsognese. "There are no words to describe what happened to us on January 27," he said of the fire. "But as Charles Dickens wrote in his famous book 'A Tale of Two Cities,' 'It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.' Well, for us it is the worst of times. But tonight's occasion is the best of times. And we will all enjoy it."
