When I heard that “Strega Nona” is turning 50, I did what any self-respecting book lover would do: I heated up a bowl of pasta and paid the signora a visit.
I remembered Tomie dePaola’s Caldecott Honor-winning picture book for the same reasons you might: oodles of noodles pouring out of a cauldron, threatening to overtake a Calabrian village rendered in soothing earth tones; panicked locals; the titular grandmother sorceress who saves the town.
These are the ingredients that made “Strega Nona” a classic, and the reasons it’s the toast of classroom parties today. (Hello, parent boiling pasta before work and shoving it, still steaming, into a Ziploc bag. I see you!) As for Strega Nona herself, she remains a timeless style icon. Show me a woman who doesn’t covet well-knotted scarves and toasty capes and I’ll show you Miranda Priestly.
But the character who caught my eye on my anniversary reading hasn’t inspired a postage stamp, a TikTok trend or a D.I.Y. Halloween costume. He received a nod in a 1975 New York Times review of “Strega Nona” merely as a catalyst for his boss’s heroism. Later he landed his own pair of books, but not before serving as the butt of the lesson for the bulk of Generation X.
His name is Big Anthony, and he’s the awkward, galumphing antihero who makes “Strega Nona” possible. Yes, he causes a boatload of trouble. I still think we should give him a second chance.
We meet Big Anthony on the fourth page of the book, after we’ve seen Strega Nona kibitzing with girls who want husbands and men who have warts. She has a practice to run — witchcraft meets homeopathy — and she’s not getting any younger. In modern times, Strega Nona might pull a policy for long-term-care insurance out of her apron pocket. In medieval times, she posts a help-wanted flier in the town square.