For the Love of Food

A friend here said to me a couple weeks ago, “Italians are always thinking about food. When they aren’t eating, they’re talking about food.”

This is maybe the truest statement I’ve ever heard. First of all, people here eat a lot. I don’t care what they say about Americans; they have no room to talk. They eat differently than we do, this is for sure. When my mom cooks dinner, everything is set out on the table, and that is what there is to eat. Here, there are often several courses, so you never know how much is coming. I’ve learned to not eat too much of anything, because you just never know. If you’re still hungry at the end (which is highly unlikely), you can just eat extra dessert, because you know that’s the end (although it will be followed by coffee and a digestif). While each course is definitely smaller than an American meal, if you add all of them up, I’m fairly certain it’s more here. Which is generally fine by me. I am by all means a lover of food, and the food here is exceptional.

What’s funny to me is how  much they talk about food, even when they just finished eating. We finish dinner, and they start to talk about what to eat for lunch the next day. Or every time Paolo talks to his mom, she asks what we ate if she wasn’t there to eat with us. I tried to think if my mom has ever asked me that, but I’m pretty sure not. My mom probably doesn’t care what she had for dinner, much less what I had. Or if it’s my brother, she’s just glad he remembered to eat at all. But seriously, it’s amazing to me how much thought they put into what they’re going to eat for each meal. Part of me really likes it, because I enjoy planning, and so I like that aspect of it. But sometimes I just want to get a baguette and smother it in Nutella or make a sandwich, rather than thinking so much about what we can put together with what we have, or what we need to go buy, etc. Maybe this is the American in me, I'm not used to so much formality with each and every meal.

Obviously, whatever they’re doing is working, because the food here is completely delicious. I could eat pizza and gelato every day of my life and not get tired of it. Not to mention all the fresh fruits and vegetables, and pastas in every variety imaginable. So, Italy, keep doing what you’re doing when it comes to food. If speaking and thinking about food all the time is what it takes to make the magic happen, I won’t argue. Buon appetito!

Ciao for now,

Kathleen