Lounging in my bed this morning reading the Lonely Planet Italy book (it's a hard life, I know!), I found myself nodding vigorously in agreement to certain passages. This was the first:
"... you'll quickly learn that the root of Italian pathology is an unswerving dedication to living life well. A surprising number of Italians care deeply about the floral aftertastes of sheep cheese, the correct way to cut marble and the nuances of a Vivaldi concerto. Lurking behind the disinvoltura – the appearance of effortlessness – is a passionate attention to life's fine print. So slow down, start taking note of life's details and enjoy your own bella vita."
Three things struck me about this:
– The first is linked to my recent comment about how the Italians don't seem to be phased by having large groups of people for dinner; it's that appearance of effortless that's described above, but behind that effortless is the attention to detail. It's fascinating.
– The second is the comment about the Italians' dedication to living life well. They really do and I think we could all take something from this. But I've noticed that they're not only dedicated to living life well, but some of them also seem to see life as a bit of a challenge. They blatantly refuse to wear a seatbelt in the back of a car and laugh at me when I do (which I always do – force of habit). They can't understand why I'm still using factor 30 suncream (which I probably will all summer); instead they think I should cut it by a factor of 5-10 every week and even get a bit burnt to help my skin acclimatise. When I mention the risks of skin cancer they once again laugh. It sometimes seems that they like to push life as hard as they can to see just how far it will go. Sometimes I think they could take a leaf out of our book in this respect.
– And finally, the Italians all, without exception, tell me to stop planning ahead so much, to just relax and worry about tomorrow when it comes. I don't think it's unreasonable to email a friend on Thursday to enquire about the plans for Saturday night, but apparently here that is not the done thing. Last Saturday at the beach Chri and I were discussing the plans for that evening and I said I was going to call Matteo to find out what time he could meet us. Chri advised me not to, saying it was far too early (it was about 3.30pm from memory) and I would just stress Matteo out. I agree, that I need to relax a bit (A LOT sometimes) and just enjoy life, but I think I would need to be here a good few years to adopt the Italian approach to plannifying (as one of my friends calls it).
Then there's the passage in the book about food:
"Italy is quite literally a feast of endless courses, but no matter how much you gorge yourself, you'll always feel as though you haven't made it past the antipasti. Even the simplest snack can turn into a revelation... The secret is an intense, even savage, attention to top-notch ingredients and fresh, seasonal produce."
This is so so true. Gelato (ice cream) has to be eaten fresh from the gelateria because putting it in a standard freezer at home overnight makes it too hard. I don't think that would generally bother us too much. When making pesto I was told to choose my basil plant carefully and to use only the smallest leaves of the plant as they make the best pesto. I'd just throw all the leaves in but then I'm not Italian. And woe betide you if you serve the wrong type of pasta with the wrong type of sauce. And did you know there's several types of spaghetti – they're numbered, it's complicated. And whatever you do, don't cut your spaghetti, that's a real blow to the heart of an Italian. Here today they just rustled up the most delicious rabbit dish for lunch. Yesterday it was stuffed courgette flowers. If I had kids, even if I did have a housekeeper, I think it would be something more along the lines of fish fingers and beans (in fact, that's something I often have for lunch at home and I don't have kids!).
And under the section entitled, 'What to wear':
"Appearances matter in Italy. The concept of la bella figura (literally 'making a good impression') encapsulates the Italian obsession with beauty, gallantry and looking good. Milan, the fashion capital of the country is rigidly chic. Rome and Florence marginally less formal, but with big fashion houses in town sloppy attire just won't do."
Holy moly is this true! You should see what some of these beautiful women wear to go to the beach, or just to pop into town. And heels are de rigour, even if you're just out for an evening stroll. Last weekend at the beach, Evelyn took one look at my bikini (admittedly last year's and now past its best) and said she was taking me bikini shopping! Then she gave me three of her dresses. And the way they combine this glamour with the above mentioned disinvoltura is pretty incredible and yet another thing I don't think I'll ever master. It can make you feel a bit inferior at times (although rarely among friends), but it's fascinating to observe.
"... you'll quickly learn that the root of Italian pathology is an unswerving dedication to living life well. A surprising number of Italians care deeply about the floral aftertastes of sheep cheese, the correct way to cut marble and the nuances of a Vivaldi concerto. Lurking behind the disinvoltura – the appearance of effortlessness – is a passionate attention to life's fine print. So slow down, start taking note of life's details and enjoy your own bella vita."
Three things struck me about this:
– The first is linked to my recent comment about how the Italians don't seem to be phased by having large groups of people for dinner; it's that appearance of effortless that's described above, but behind that effortless is the attention to detail. It's fascinating.
– The second is the comment about the Italians' dedication to living life well. They really do and I think we could all take something from this. But I've noticed that they're not only dedicated to living life well, but some of them also seem to see life as a bit of a challenge. They blatantly refuse to wear a seatbelt in the back of a car and laugh at me when I do (which I always do – force of habit). They can't understand why I'm still using factor 30 suncream (which I probably will all summer); instead they think I should cut it by a factor of 5-10 every week and even get a bit burnt to help my skin acclimatise. When I mention the risks of skin cancer they once again laugh. It sometimes seems that they like to push life as hard as they can to see just how far it will go. Sometimes I think they could take a leaf out of our book in this respect.
– And finally, the Italians all, without exception, tell me to stop planning ahead so much, to just relax and worry about tomorrow when it comes. I don't think it's unreasonable to email a friend on Thursday to enquire about the plans for Saturday night, but apparently here that is not the done thing. Last Saturday at the beach Chri and I were discussing the plans for that evening and I said I was going to call Matteo to find out what time he could meet us. Chri advised me not to, saying it was far too early (it was about 3.30pm from memory) and I would just stress Matteo out. I agree, that I need to relax a bit (A LOT sometimes) and just enjoy life, but I think I would need to be here a good few years to adopt the Italian approach to plannifying (as one of my friends calls it).
Then there's the passage in the book about food:
"Italy is quite literally a feast of endless courses, but no matter how much you gorge yourself, you'll always feel as though you haven't made it past the antipasti. Even the simplest snack can turn into a revelation... The secret is an intense, even savage, attention to top-notch ingredients and fresh, seasonal produce."
This is so so true. Gelato (ice cream) has to be eaten fresh from the gelateria because putting it in a standard freezer at home overnight makes it too hard. I don't think that would generally bother us too much. When making pesto I was told to choose my basil plant carefully and to use only the smallest leaves of the plant as they make the best pesto. I'd just throw all the leaves in but then I'm not Italian. And woe betide you if you serve the wrong type of pasta with the wrong type of sauce. And did you know there's several types of spaghetti – they're numbered, it's complicated. And whatever you do, don't cut your spaghetti, that's a real blow to the heart of an Italian. Here today they just rustled up the most delicious rabbit dish for lunch. Yesterday it was stuffed courgette flowers. If I had kids, even if I did have a housekeeper, I think it would be something more along the lines of fish fingers and beans (in fact, that's something I often have for lunch at home and I don't have kids!).
And under the section entitled, 'What to wear':
"Appearances matter in Italy. The concept of la bella figura (literally 'making a good impression') encapsulates the Italian obsession with beauty, gallantry and looking good. Milan, the fashion capital of the country is rigidly chic. Rome and Florence marginally less formal, but with big fashion houses in town sloppy attire just won't do."
Holy moly is this true! You should see what some of these beautiful women wear to go to the beach, or just to pop into town. And heels are de rigour, even if you're just out for an evening stroll. Last weekend at the beach, Evelyn took one look at my bikini (admittedly last year's and now past its best) and said she was taking me bikini shopping! Then she gave me three of her dresses. And the way they combine this glamour with the above mentioned disinvoltura is pretty incredible and yet another thing I don't think I'll ever master. It can make you feel a bit inferior at times (although rarely among friends), but it's fascinating to observe.
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