"It’s the Sopranos – but with twice the drama and half the violence...”

That’s the best way to describe our recent visit to the East Coast. For me, a white-bread Texas turncoat girl, visiting my husband’s Sicilian family – his grandmother, mother, father, Zias (aunts), uncles and a gaggle of cousins - is like smothering a chicken fried steak with a vat of pasta and tomato sauce. No matter how tough the steak might be, the acid in the sauce will eventually turn it into mush. (Yes, I'm ashamed to admit that I'm a meat-eating yogini. One of many of my paradoxes).

First a brief ethnic background on Sicily: An island off the coast of Italy, Sicilians considers themselves distinct from Italians. Sicilians view their island as a country of its own – similar to the proud way Texans view their own flat, dry state.

Now back to the drama. We went Back East to attend Cousin Christopher’s wedding, which is the source of all the current turmoil. His dad, let’s call him Uncle Paulie, is one of the most outspoken racists you’ll ever meet. So imagine everyone’s surprise – especially Uncle Puaulie’s – when his son Christopher announced he was marrying a Black woman. Yes, God does have a sense of humor.

Uncle Paulie boycotted the wedding, but the rest of the Family stepped behind Christopher to show their love and support. Despite all the drama (and Uncle Paulie’s obvious absence from the nuptials) the wedding rocked, butI was probably the only white person dancin’ the Cha-Cha Slide (I’m a sucker for a line dance).

My own Sicilian and I got to spend some good quality time together. And honestly, I really adore the Family (from a distance). And although Uncle Paulie never came around, the evening ended up heads and shoulders better than the disastrous Sopranos finale.