Some of my favorite family memories deal with my Italian heritage. Long Sunday dinners at the Esposito’s, expansive gastronomical eating extravaganzas that started with nuts and ended with homemade cheesecake and Italian cookies. Big jugs of homemade wine omnipresent on the kitchen counter. Big Italian family reunions. Stories about the Dispoto and Corolla families living in one building in Jersey City and about my paternal grandmother Rose, who I never got to meet but who cooked huge family meals for her family all day every single day, and never complained.
And the eternal argument between gravy and sauce. In my household, it was “gravy.” Get over it.
I just read a fabulous article in Travel and Leisure magazine about eating and drinking rules in Italy. I can’t wait to go back to Italy (more on my quick trip to Italy another time). If you’d prefer to read Paul Feinstein’s take in T&L, fine, be that way: here’s the link to the article. If you want mine, read on. It’s not much different from Paul’s, just with extra personal perspective and how I try to keep my Italian upbringing in my family as much as I can.
Keep it fresh. Like shoppers in Italy, every week or so I make my trip to various food specialty stores to get my breads, my pastas, my cheeses, my meats, and vegetables for two weeks or so. Every store specializes in something, and I find it delightful to patronize these Mom and Pop businesses over an hour away to purchase items that I know are fresh and ripe. I barely go to big supermarkets anymore.
Seasons for a reason. We know this in Jersey. We know when peaches are good, when asparagus is good, and when tomatoes are good. We shop when things are in season for peak flavor. Makes all the difference.
Coffee rules. Italians don’t do big breakfasts like Americans do. If you’ve been to Italy, you know the drill- you order breakfast, you stand at a bar, down an espresso, and shove a croissant into your face. Delizioso. I love luxuriating in a hot cup of coffee on my patio as much as the next guy, but in Italy, when in Rome.
Olive oil. Period. No other oil allowed. And try using olive oil to bake cookies in place of butter, yummo. I sometimes use it in my Easter biscotti, just to mix things up. The jury is still out on which is better.
Courses matter and pasta isn’t a main course. This is directly quoted from the article: “First, there’s lunch. A typical Italian lunch consists of a primo, usually a pasta dish; a secondo, which is usually a protein; and a contorno, which is a vegetable or salad dish. For dinner, there’s an antipasto, where you’ll find cured meats, olives, artichokes, and more followed by a pasta (primo), a protein (secondo), a side dish (contorno), and a dessert (dolce). Hungry yet?”
Drinks are paired with foods. Italians don’t drink wine until their food comes. They’re supposed to complement each other.
More drinking and eating. The whole Italian day revolves around food. What a great country. Merenda. Gelateria. Aperitivo. And my favorite? Digestivi.
Bread. Fare la scarpetta means “make the little shoe.” You know why. To scoop. If you don’t scoop your bread into your gravy, what good are you to me?
Table wine is more than fine. Table wine is not only great, but cheap in Italy. Don’t be pretentious, please.
Food is for family. Breaking bread with people is communion, so you should always love the people you eat with. “Eat well. Drink well. Enjoy life. These are rules worth living by.”