AZAÏS-POLITO DOLLS, THE GUARDIANS OF KNOW-HOW

Before we look at all the innovations that have made Azaïs-Polito famous, let’s take a step back in time to understand the roots of the family’s know-how. A past perfectly symbolised by the Polito dolls.

Before becoming a major canning company, Azaïs-Polito was first and foremost a story of family, exile and transmission. At the end of the 19th century, the Polito family left Borgo di Gaeta, a small fishing village north of Naples in Italy, to settle in Sète. They brought with them a precious heritage, including these two Polito dolls. The two little polychrome wooden figurines, hand-carved around 1780, have a date inscribed on their base. Now appraised by antique dealers, these dolls are much more than mere objects.

They are the symbol of a craft, an era and a culture. Originally, these figurines belonged to the Neapolitan tradition of santons. In Italy, as in Provence, santons represented trades, craftsmen and everyday gestures. At a time when few people knew how to read, they were used as signs on shop fronts. They took the place of words, silently telling the story of what went on behind the counter.

The Polito dolls, set up in Giovanni Polito’s Neapolitan vermicelli factory on the heights of Sète in the Quartier Haut, the Italian quarter, represented pasta-making, the family’s original trade. They have always adorned the Polito sales counters. Jean-Claude Polito, the fourth manufacturer in the line, has carried on this tradition.

Everyone in Sète knew them. The grandmothers of Sète used to say to their children and grandchildren: Go and buy pasta from the dolls”. It was a reference in the Halles de Sète. For a century, these little Neapolitan pupazzi, as they were called in the Polito family, have been part of the Sète landscape.

They have seen generations, seasons and markets come and go, and have become an emotional landmark as well as a symbol of quality and tradition in Sète. Over time, they have passed through the history of the company, from the pasta factory to the fish cannery, and today they are the silent guardians of Polito know-how. In their own way, they tell the story of a link between Italy and Sète, a link between craftsmanship and popular memory.