Adriana Trigiani's "Rococo" does not evoke the 1970 I knew, but then I lived in split-level midwest suburbia, not moneyed New Jersey, and I was young (a mere babe, an infant. Practically in utero.) However, it certainly does evoke the Italian families I knew, and have had the privilege to join.

I was a bit misled by the front cover art, thinking the main character would be a woman and even a bit deceived by B's voice, so that it was a bit of a jolt to realize he was a man. Sometimes the reference to 70's items and decorations didn't jive for me, so that the setting did not drag me back to any 1970 moments. It was the characters and their situations that made me enjoy the book.

"Rococo" is the perfect title for this swirling, curlicued, emotionally-charged, slightly frou-frou novel. I really got involved reading about B's family and their dramatic, overblown, always-with-food-available-plus-recipes lives. I got a kick out of some of the names (Toot, Two, Aunt Mary Mix-up) because I know how Italians are - in any family, 14 of them share the same name, so it becomes "Aunt Mary's Vito" or "Little Vito" or "Vito-with-the-house-in-Anaheim".

I just wish I coulda seen the finished church.