Tag: Italian Culture

Posted on

Italian Food and Food Culture – Types of Food

Trattoria I' Raddi, Florence

Growing up Italian-American, I though I knew Italian food pretty well, but each year that I live in Italy, I consider myself more and more “American”.

The first thing to note about Italian food is how diverse it is. Some people will ask, “don’t you get tired of eating Italian every day?” They don’t understand that inside Italy, the Italian food is much less homogeneous than it is outside Italy. Similar to how Americans think it’s strange to group pizza and hamburgers, but in other countries it makes sense because it is all “American Food”. Or how a Chinese person might think it is terrible to but all the different types of foods that we pile on our plates at a Chinese Buffet on the same dish, but to us it’s normal because it’s all Chinese Food.

The first way Italian Cuisine is divided is by region. Nearly every restaurant associates itself with the regional origin of the proprietor. This may be obvious with a full-on theme, matching name, and scenes on the walls all evoking the region associated with the food. Or it might be very subtle and easy to miss if you are not Italian. Italians will immediately recognize characteristic foods on the menu and file the place away in the “Umbria, “Sardinia”, or whatever part of their brain.

Each region having a strong identity plays a roll in Italian culture in general. For example, they know what region any given celebrity or politician is originally from. By contract, I could tell you a couple famous people from my own home state, but have no idea where nearly any given celebrity comes from, even super-famous A-Listers.

The regional origins of foods play a big roll, bigger than one would expect given that it’s 2014 and Italy is just not that big. An American from the Northeast for example, will have an easier time finding a Canoli back home than in mainland Italy – they are from Sicily. The unsalted bread of Umbria is very different from the focaccia of Puglia, which in turn is surprisingly similar to Genova (Puglia mixes the toppings into the bread dough, Genova leaves them on top), but none of which resemble the cracker-like bread of Sardinia. Oh, and don’t expect any butter or oil, the bread is eaten dry or along with the meat course. Also being brought some when you sit down is definitely not a given and certainly not for free.

The next way food, particularly in restaurants, is divided is by specialty. Similar to the US, there are places that specialize in fish, beef, hand made pastas, local foods, a particular experience, on and on. Certainly there are more places specializing in fish in Sicily (an island) than there are in Umbria (land locked), but you find similarly run sea food restaurants up and down all coasts. Independent fishmongers are still very common all over Italy, and some have opened their own adjoined restaurant, cooking themselves their catches for customers. This same style restaurant can be found from Genova.

I know three specialty vegetarian restaurants here in Rome, and they all have menus very different from the “Bisteccherie” (Steak Houses) near our home. While a few of these places might also serve pizza, they don’t have the offerings of an actual “Pizzeria”. A pizzeria is normally a more casual place that serves a variety of pizzas, maybe a calzone, and some fried appetizers. There is also the “creperia”, which (you guessed it) serves crapes. You can get pastries at a “Pasticceria”, gelato/ice cream at a “Gelateria”, and fried foods at a “Friggitoria. As the “aperitivo” or “Happy Hour” has spread south from Torino (aka Turin) and Milan, there are also places that specialize in that. And more and more types of specialties beyond what I can even think of.

That is just the “Italian Food”. Italy may not have as many Mexican restaurants as the US (we have less Mexican immigrants) and our Asian choices are well illustrated here by The Oatmeal. But there are still lots of non-Italian options: Ethiopian, Indian, Turkish (there is a kebab and falafel place on almost every corner), Chinese, Japanese, Korean, sushi, German, Brazilian, and yes, Mexican. They are normally a bit Italianized, which is weird because I’m used to my food being Americanized, but that’s what one can expect. These are still not as big a presence as all the Italian options, though. When Italians ask me about American food I like to explain to them that when an American asks another “what do you feel like for dinner?” the standard way to reply is to name a county. I think that sizes up “American” food pretty succinctly.

Suffice it to say, when we are thinking of going out to eat here in Rome, we are not headed to your typical “Italian Restaurant” as seen in about every city in the world, which offers a margarita pizza, veal parmigiana, chicken parmigiana, penne alla vodka, fettuccine alfredo, minestrone soup, bruschetta, tiramisu, and maybe a hand full of other “typical” Italian dishes that are not nearly so typical here in Italy. In fact, I can’t even remember the last time I even saw someone eat one of those dishes, probably back in the States.

One last way that food serving establishments are divided by their level of service. There is obviously a big difference from the white-table-clothed, fancy location, high end service type of restaurant that you may find on the ground floor of a five-star hotel, from the grab-and-go place where you pick up your food at the counter. In English we might just say that a place is more or less fancy, Italian has specific words for each type. At the top is the “Ristorante” with table service, table cloths, and general high-end feeling. Then there is the “Trattoria” which feels a bit less stuffy, perhaps less ornate a location, but still good service. After that is the “Osteria” which definitely does not feel formal, but still has table service. Followed by the “Tavola Calda” where one picks up their ready-made food at the counter.

The prices and service go down from Ristorante to Tavola Calda. However, the quality does not! When one reminisces about how great the food is in Italy, they really mean how easily accessible and affordable great food is in Italy, because you can get great Italian food in any city if you are willing to make reservations and pay for it. I can hardly drag my husband to any place to eat in the US which has table-cloths because he insists you are paying for the table-cloths and the food is actually lower quality. While not true in the US (you normally have to pay more for the higher quality ingredients needed to prepare high quality food), this is surprisingly accurate in Italy. Though your best bet for avoiding high prices and bad food in Italy is to simply stay away from the big tourist crowds.

There is something to the idea that the quality of food is better in Italy. Artiginal (“artigianale”) is what’s expected as the norm and taken seriously. Even in the home, the food served will often be “from my own/my friend’s garden” or a specialty from a particular region gifted from a friend. My father-in-law gives us special sweet lemons from a friends of his who was born in Almalfi. He also gives us fresh dry-it-yourself oregano from Calabria that has changed the way I think about oregano. Heck, it’s changed my life! Nearly all Italians learn to cook and take pride in their cooking. As well as learn about nutrition and food anthropology in school. I think this keeps the standards on prepared foods high, because if it’s not better than they can make at home or if it’s too expensive, they will just make it themselves.

I could go on about etiquette for ordering at the counter, variety in pizza through out Italy, the rules of the courses, pasta, espresso, taboos! Since this is already a long post, I’m going to break it down into a series. So more to come on Italian food and food culture in the posts to come!

Posted on

Gathering Chestnuts

Daniele’s family gathers chestnuts every fall to enjoy in winter. They go to a forest-like park where they know chestnut trees grow and gather garbage bags worth of them.

This fall Daniele, his father Giulio, and I went to gather them. There has been an infection on the chestnut trees in Italy with a bug from Asia. Some of Giulio’s friends failed to find any chestnuts at all, but Guilio knows all the places and brought us to a place where there were less than past years, but still as many as we could want to gather up off the floor.

I had never gathered chestnuts before, so I didn’t know how it was done. We used a basket to throw them in as we went and several backpacks to transfer our hoard to when the basket gets full. The chestnuts themselves grow in little clusters, that remind me of garlic, the way they are shaped and grouped. The clusters are enclosed in a spiny shell, that is already opened and we toss aside wearing gloves.

The chestnuts covered the ground like a blanket, and the sound or more falling punctuated the quiet forest. But there are rules to which ones you take. Most obviously, you toss any with little holes in them; that means there are worms inside. It is hard to see these little holes and we had to toss many after we got home and could see them better. Once or twice we missed the worm hole and ended up with little toasty grubs alongside our chestnuts. Good news is you would never accidentally eat one of these worms. If he didn’t run out of his roasting nut-house in the oven, you would see him when you broke the nut open to eat.

The second rule is you should go down into the forest farther to gather the bigger nuts. Giulio says the bigger nuts are heavier and end up collecting farther down. Daniele and I were so mesmerized picking up all the chestnuts on our way down, that we never made it as far down as him. And, in fact, Giulio had much nicer, bigger, chestnuts at the end of the day.

What do we do with all of these chestnuts? The classic way to eat them is roasted in the oven after a meal– especially on a cold night. You cut a slit into the heard but meaty chestnut, then put it in the oven at 180 Celsius for maybe 20 minutes. They become a little darker, and soft or a little wilted looking. And then you make conversation while casually ripping them open and popping them in your mouth. You may only drink wine (red, normally) with your chestnuts, because water will swell your stomach. Chestnuts behave a bit like bread or rice in this way. In fact, chestnut flour is very common here in Italy.

We had so many, we looked up other things to do with them. Daniele made a delicious soup with chestnuts and porcini mushrooms. It was too much work to do often though. He had to roast the nuts, peal them, blend them, then make the rest of the soup.

Daniele’s mother says you can’t freeze them and have them still be good, but maybe it could work if you cook them first then freeze them after. We didn’t try it, because we were ready for a break from chestnuts when the end of the “season” arrived. I’m looking forward to next year’s though!

Some pictures from our adventure:
https://plus.google.com/photos/+KaitlynHanrahanIsidori/albums/6013737054044279473

Posted on

Sauce versus Gravy

There are some Italian-American’s out there who have a thing for correcting people who say “sauce” and telling them it’s called “gravy”. It’s often accompanied by a (an even more grating) statement about how they say it that way because their family is Italian.

Before I get too ranty about this pet peeve of mine, I want to give a disclaimer. I understand how third (or so) generation Italian-Americans cling really heavily to their/our heritage. I myself have gone so far as to spend years re-learning the language forgotten in the generations in between and even re-emigrated back to the motherland. When our Italian ancestors first moved to America they were eager to become American and embraced the local culture, unfortunately not leaving much of the cool old stuff for the next generations.

Now, as for “Italians say gravy”. This is an absolutely preposterous statement. Italians speak Italian, not English. They say neither “sauce” nor “gravy” when referring to such things. If you are curious, the Italian word “sugo” translates closest. This word would be used for a tomato based sauce and anything of similar texture. Also for juice. There is also the word “salsa” which describes pestos and other thick sauces which you may want to add a little pasta water. Something like a pasta fagoli is actually considered a soup (zuppa) and the non-pasta elements are not distinguished with a different descriptor than the pasta, which should be a small shape (like a mini farfalla), by the way. Besides adding to the “soup” texture of the dish, the small pasta cooks faster which is important because it should be cooked in the rest of the soup. This process takes longer than cooking in boiling water. But I digress.

If you were to ask an actual Italian from Italy whether it is “sauce” or “gravy” they would be dumbfounded. Non-native speakers look to us native speakers for clarity on such acute differences. It would be like an Italian asking you which is the most American of two Italian words that mean almost the same thing.

So, is it “gravy” or is it “sauce”? I tend to agree with Merriam-Webster, Oxford’s British and American Dictionaries. But I think Julia Child put it best, “A gravy without meat is just a sauce.” Which makes “Red Gravy” just “sauce” and is why I get annoyed when someone corrects my calling it “sauce” with, “we say gravy, we’re Italian.” No, actually, it really is sauce.

If anyone guilty of this habit happens to be reading, I petition you to cease and desist. Besides having already established it is annoying, the claim of “Italian-ness” is unfounded, and the term is technically incorrect, I’ll present another reason. Our Italian ancestors came to America without speaking English and had to learn quickly with likely little resources. It is understandable they did not learn the language perfectly, maybe not even the correct term for something as everyday for an Italian immigrant as ‘sauce’. But it is a little more strange that their native-English speaking children would continue this mistake rather than learn the correct term. Then for these children or their children to take it further by insisting the wrong term is actually “how Italians say it”– that takes some coglioni (the expression works better with fegato / liver, but I didn’t think anyone would understand that). Therefore you should stop with this whole “Italians say gravy” thing because it pronounces your (and your ancestor’s) ignorance more than your Italian-ness also someday you and I may be at a dinner party together and you don’t want to unleash this rant in person.

Posted on

Back to the USA

I have finished another 3-month stay in Italy. This was June, July, and August in Rome with Daniele. Rome is feeling more like home than NJ right now, and I’m pretty sad to leave. At least I have enough to do state-side these coming months that I think the time will go fast.

This seems like a good time to share my latest observations of Italian culture, educate, and other miscellaneous things.

(1) In the grocery story you generally have to pay for the plastic bags, thought not much. The bags will either be under the belt before the cashier (potentially free) or you have to ask the cashier. If you have to ask, you have to pay. If the cashier asks you something while ringing you up, it is probably if you want a bag.

(2) Also in the grocery store, customers weigh their own produce. Each type of fruit or vegetable, next to its name (and normally its origin) has a number. In the produce area is a scale, use this number to print a price sticker for your bag of produce. Also note, it is etiquette to use plastic gloves while selecting your produce and discard them after. They are normally by the plastic bags along with a garbage bin.

(3) The post office is always really crowded. That is because the post office in Italy is also a bank. Italians have to come here all the time to pay their bills. For example, If I were the electric company, I would not send a bill to your house, I would bill you through the post office, and you would go there to pay. When you arrive at the post office, you press a button to take a number. The buttons are P for people with actual “Post” business (almost no one), A for people with bank business, and E for people with checking accounts with the post office.

(4) I thought I knew all there was about making pasta already, not that it is the most complicated dish. But I have improved my technique recently with little things that I never thought made a difference before. Boil water in a thin pot (thick is for sauce), covered with a lid. This gets the most heat most efficiently to the water to boil faster. Use a bigger pot for spaghetti, it is barbaric to break the pasta in half. Keep the pasta pot covered after adding the pasta. This is especially important for ravioli type pasta that float and need heat above the water too, don’t cover completely so you can see before it boils over. I used to think I was healthier for not salting my pasta water, but now I am used to it salted, I can’t eat it unsalted. I worry about who I severed unsalted pasta to all those years. I only add a small amount, but it makes a big difference. You can also cook pasta in sauce. It takes longer, about twice as long, but the pasta has great flavor and is creamier because the starches remain in the dish rather than getting tossed with the water. Just add pasta to sauce over heat, add small amounts of hot water as needed, stir. It’s perfect for something like a pasta puttanesca or pasta fagioli.

(5) The correct way to store garlic is to refrigerate it. It is good for a long long time. Eventually, the part in the middle turns green and you don’t want to eat that part, but the rest is still good as new. To remove the middle, after pealing, cut in half lengthwise so you have two flat parts with a pointy tip and a part of the base. You should see a line of green from base to point (or not and your good). It flicks out easily with the front round part of a butter knife.

(6) How to pay at gelateria or bar. At most of these places, especially the busy and big ones, you will first go to a cashier, tell then what you want, pay, and get a ticket/recite. You bring that ticket to the counter to get your coffee or ice cream.

On the other hand if you are at a by-the-slice pizzeria you normally go to the counter first. You tell them what you want and how much, they weigh it if they are by-the-kilo and they give you the ticket to bring to the cashier.

Obviously if the place is really small and there is only one person working there and you are one of a few customers you order and pay with just that person.

(7) Slices of pizza are typical for lunch, while personal pies that are considered real meals are for dinner only. Italians will grab a slice of pizza for a quick lunch, but a sit down “round pizza” is only for dinner. In fact a restaurant outside the center normally wont even have the pizza oven going during the day.

(8) Americans more typically put all the food on the table at once. The advantage is that we know everything there is and the chef can sit and enjoy the meal, too. A full meal starts with a soup or salad then has a main course with sides, finishing with desert. A vegetable and starch are normally incorporated. On the other hand the full Italian meal starts with antipasto, then pasta, second/main dish possibly served with a contorno/side dish, then salad, then deserts (possibly also served in courses like nuts, pastries, and digestifs). The biggest difference is each dish is cleared between each course and you never know how much more food is still waiting ready in the kitchen. It’s wonderful, but very dangerous.

(9) Parmigiano-Reggiano is made with the summer milk. Grana Padano is the same thing but made with the winter milk when the cows are eating dry grass. Both are D.O.P (AKA P.D.O., D.O.C., C.D.O.) cheeses that can only be made in Italy.

(10) Almost no one in Italy has a drier. Which is great, they ruin your clothing anyway. But what about sheets and towels, right? Daniele passed me some of the wisdom of his ancestors in getting by without a drier. It starts with the spin cycle in the washer. You want get rid of enough moisture that you have a head start, but not so much you have wrinkly cloths. So while they are still damp from the washer we fold, pressing them flat, against the edge of the bathtub. We leave them there a few hours before they get hung up to dry. We have three cloths drying wracks. A small one inside on one of the wall heaters (for winter when it’s harder to dry outside), one on the biggest balcony, and one that hangs over the other balcony over our garden. The one that hangs over the garden is where we dry big things like sheets. We just fold them and hang them up. The next day fold them the other way, eventually they dry, it just takes a while. Every bed has two sets of summer and two sets of winter sheets so you can do this. Fun, right? Our clothing gets put outside and we just try to time laundry with the weather so they can have a chance to dry. I’ve used these racks for years for my cloths (I don’t like to put my cloths in the drier even when one is available), but I have been doing it wrong. I always draped each top over a different bar, but you need to use two bars per top. That way it dries folded over in a way that stressed the fabric less. Can’t believe I never thought of it!

Well, so long for now Italy. See you after the holidays!

Posted on

Italians want Starbucks

Italy is one of the countries I know that does not have Starbucks. Or Pizza Hut for that matter. Why would they want those chains when their coffee and pizza are so good, right? I have run into a few Italians who yearn for Pizza Hut, which makes sense. Even if you think Pizza Hut is gross (personally I enjoy it as a nostalgic indulgence), it really is its own thing and no Italian Pizzaria sells “pizza” like it. Same reasoning can be applied for Starbucks. Italians have cafes (or Bars, rather) with delicious espresso and typically a hearty dose of charm on virtually every corner. Why would they need a big chain coffee shop? Same answer, it’s just different.

Last night at a BBQ with about 15 Italians and myself I heard for the first time someone say how much they wish there were Starbucks here in Italy. Every region in Italy makes pizza a slightly different way– from the thick Napoli pies, to the thin ones here in Rome, to the ultra-thick focaccia-like pizza they make near Genoa, and so forth. While everyone insists their own region makes the best pizza, they seem more united on coffee. There are a handful of household names: illy, lavazza, danesi, segafredo. Almost all coffee here is one of these brands and the people are pretty much in agreement that Italian is the best coffee. Knowing this, I was really interested where this conversation was going to go.

Coffee is a strong part of their culture. In fact just earlier during dinner I had one of my favorite debates with Italians: “Why can’t I order a cappuccino after dinner?”. For those curious, it is a faux pas to order a cappuccino after morning hours. With some prodding, the best reasons for this I have been able to get are: “it is bad for the stomach”, “you can’t drink warm milk after a meal”, or “it just isn’t done”. I love bringing it up because they always seem to feel very strongly about it, but are never very sure why. Though you know what they say, “When in Rome…” so when I’m here in Rome I try to blend in and just get an espresso or mocchiato, both perfectly acceptable, and save after dinner cappuccinos for when I’m back in the States.

If you ask any Italian they will happily explain to you the difference between an espresso or cafe (interchangeable), cafe mocchiato, cappuccino, americano, cafe corretto, cafe latte, and mochaccino. I think when I was living in Milan someone new explained it almost every day of my 3-month stay. And when I left I was drinking on average five shots of the stuff a day. They will also eagerly tell you how many coffees they have had that day (like asking a US college student how many beers s/he had last Friday). They love drinking it. They love talking about it. At the first mention of Starbucks, the crowd started buzzing about all the fun “american” or “long” coffee drinks (coffee can be long or short depending how much water is in it) and drinks with caramel or that you can walk around while holding. This is something I miss, as much as I love the Italian espresso and the “at the bar” experience here, there is something nice about having a warm coffee in your hand on a cold day to sip on while walking. But this is something they just don’t have here and it never occurred to me that they wanted. In the US, anything that anyone wants– it exists, twice, and you can get it delivered.

However, it wasn’t the coffee that was really being praised in the end. Those who had ever stayed in a Starbucks while traveling abroad agreed how nice an atmosphere the place had. They liked the free wi-fi and that you could stay as long as you liked, reading, studying and no one bothered you to buy something else or leave. This is truly the opposite of the experience you would get in a bar (cafe) in Italy. Here you pay a different price to sit down (seriously). In fact the group decided that if a Starbucks did open here, it would go out of business because it would become too Italian and wouldn’t pull off the same effect.

Anyway. I thought it was interesting.

Posted on

Pesto Day

Daniele’s Mother makes pesto a few times each summer, when her and Daniele’s basil is growing. This time I helped. We harvested all our basil in the morning and brought it over. Then theirs. It was a lot. Antonietta determined it was three batches worth. First we washed the basil by rinsing it in one side of the two-sided sink, then the other, and repeating until clean. Then we spread them out on the kitchen table to dry on clean dish towels. Then I grated the parmigiano and romano cheeses while she got her blender ready and chopped the garlic. She eyeballed all the measurements, but I guess when it’s all delicious, it’s hard to mess up. We had bought most the pinoli nuts, but Giulio, Danile’s father had also gotten some fresh ones from the trees outside their apartment.

Antonietta blended each batch into perfectly-smooth green deliciousness. Then it was poured in what I would call plastic dixie cups, they call disposable espresso cups. We freeze them and each one can be thawed for the perfect “for two” serving. Or cut in half for a simple “for one” meal.

We have to leave our little babies here to freeze. They transport better (safer) once they are in solid / frozen form. But this is enough maybe to last a year, and now I know the secrets!


(Antonietta making pesto)

More photos are in my Summer Rome Album:
https://picasaweb.google.com/111221349198606775660/20110608Roma