There is something at once magical and commonplace about an heirloom family recipe–for these aromas and flavors were created and enjoyed in times long past by people, every-day people, who were made of the same stuff as we are. To make their recipe is to preserve their memory.

Pitta ‘Nchiusa or Pitta ‘Mpigliata is a traditional Calabrian Christmas pastry originating from Calabria in Southern Italy–where my grandmother’s grandparents grew up. Calabria is the toe and arch of the “boot” of Italy and is heavily influenced by Greece and Greek culture. Remarkably, it is also the place where the name “Italy” was first used by the ancient Greeks. The food of this region of Italy is very Mediterranean and Greek in flavor and style–quite different from the world-famous northern Italian dishes. It is from this ancient place that my grandmother’s ancestors came to America, bringing with them their recipes, their work ethic, and their determination to thrive.

As a little girl, I heard my parents tell stories of my grandmother’s amazing “petencusa”–we did not know how to spell it then–and I would long for the day to come when she would teach me how to make it. The day came one Christmas, when my grandmother was visiting my family for the holidays. We made the famous pastry together–thinking we might be the only Italians in the country who made it, because we had never heard of or seen it anywhere.

My grandmother taught me to roll the dough out thin and cut it into strips, which we filled with golden raisins, chopped almonds, cinnamon, and sugar. Then, the strips are folded in half over the filling, rolled into rosettes, and placed in pattern to bake. When the pastry is golden-brown and still hot out of the oven, we would pour hot honey over it to our hearts’ content, and watch it seep down into the pockets of the rosettes.

I had never tasted anything quite like it: the pastry dough is smooth and dense, made with olive oil and white wine . When baked, it becomes stiff, its texture more like a brittle gingerbread cookie than a soft pastry. But it softens when soaked in hot honey. It is incredible–not too sweet, but wonderfully flavored. It reminded me of other Mediterranean desserts with a filled pastry soaked in honey or syrup.

When I finally researched the pastry online, I found that other recipes call for different spices, nuts, orange zest, liquor, or a kind of boiled wine syrup. Perhaps in Calabria, this Christmas cake is a bit like apple pie is in the United States–every baker has their own traditional, beloved recipe. This is how my family has made it for more than five generations. And so we shall continue to make and enjoy it, Lord willing, for years to come!