Food Becomes you - Italian Lessons

I wrote my last column a week before our family left for a summer in Italy, and am writing this one the week after our return. In May I speculated on whether Italian cooking and eating habits were different from ours, and whether there were any lessons they could teach us. The answer to both questions is yes. Our experience was somewhat biased because we deliberately bypassed big cities, spending most of our time in rural areas and small towns. I suspect that major metropolitan centers like Milan have partially succumbed to the fast food frenzy. Yet even there, the cultural emphasis on quality food and Italy's decentralized agricultural system protect against American-style degradation of the food supply.

So what are the big differences?

The family farm is alive and well in Italy. The Italian government sponsors a program called "agriturismo," where farmers are given significant tax breaks when they convert unused outbuildings into tourist housing. Agriturismos - which run the gamut from basic lodging to luxurious inns - are great places to stay, and thanks to this wonderful program, the number of family farms is actually on the rise. Many of the farmers are holding onto ancestral land that has been in their families for as long as a thousand years. But others are returning to the land, refugees from big cities or recent graduates in agriculture.

Farms raise a diversity of crops. While most farms produce one major cash crop (say olives, or pecorino cheese), they also boast large kitchen gardens and a few goats, chickens, and pigs running around. One farm we stayed at in Western Tuscany was truly subsistence: vegetables, plums, apples, chestnuts, ducks, pigs, and enough wheat to mill into flour. They lived very comfortably, thanks to the agriturismo program and sales of gourmet chestnut products. Another farm in Sicily grew olives, but also had a small herd of sheep and goats, some chickens, a couple cows, a couple horses, and a big field of tomatoes and zucchini.

Organic agriculture is the norm. We never encountered the acerbic odor of chemical fertilizer. Only in the wine-growing areas did we find pesticide sprayers and crop dusters. (Even there, small family vineyards are commonplace, and a few are organic). All meat is free range. Hens mingle happily with roosters, and cowbells jingle as heifers and bulls roam mountain meadows. Interestingly, veal (defined as meat from cows younger than one year - nothing to do with holding pens or special feed) was bright red, unlike the pale pink meat we know in the U.S. Tractors seemed to be the only concession to modern farm machinery. Crops are largely harvested by hand; cows, sheep and goats are milked by hand, eggs are collected warm from the hen. Like other members of the European Union, Italy rejects genetically modified food.

Supermarkets are widespread, but nowhere near the glittering extravaganzas found in the U.S. All the provinces seem to have their own grocery chain. In the wealthier North these are fancier, with plenty of prepared foods and luxury items; in the South they are more on the shabby side. In none of them do you find the range of products we're are accustomed to, but the products you do find are fresher and more local. There's plenty of local cured meats, cheese in giant rounds, fruit and vegetables in season, bulk olives and freshly made tagliatelle. To be fair, there's a complement of squishy white bread, chocolate cereal, and frozen pasta a la mare (but no Hamburger Helper or Lunchables!) Many people still shop the old-fashioned way, making the rounds of the macelleria (butcher), forno (baker), salumeria (deli), and frutta and verdura (produce) stores. One day each week, a traveling market comes to town, bringing trucks of clothing, produce, and delicacies such as fried seafood, roasted peppers and olives, and porchetta (a heartily spiced roast pork). Bigger cities often boast superb weekly markets. Palermo's public market was stunning, a riotous carnival of unbelievably cheap and luscious foods.

Italians value quality food, and are willing to spend a lot of time and a significant percentage of their income obtaining it. Grocery prices are essentially comparable to the U.S. - fruit and vegetable prices were lower, meat prices higher. We shopped where ordinary Italians did, and they did not flinch at paying premium prices for good cuts of meat or black truffles. They also shop frequently. Refrigerators are small, and they prefer fresh food. There's a plethora of surprisingly popular McDonald's franchises (mainly in the North) but that is the only eatery of its type to be found. There are lots of delis and pizza to go places, but again, the quality was uniformly high, more like Balduccis than Boston Market. The cafeterias were wonderful. When's the last time you ate porcini mushroom pizza at your local mall? Even the highway rest stops had delicious sandwiches.

Italians sit down to eat, and they do it together as a family. They don't eat in their cars or in front of TV sets. Italian businesses don't strive to be open twenty-four hours a day. People don't work staggered shifts. Generally, businesses are open in the morning, close in the early afternoon for lunch (sometimes for as long as 4 hours!) and re-open in the late afternoon, closing in the early evening for dinner. Sundays are holidays, except in tourist areas. Most businesses close an additional day of the week, for "a day of repose." Many hot afternoons we would stroll the streets of a town, the streets silent except for the sound of clicking dishes from the apartments above.

What are the lessons we can learn from Italy? There's way too many to detail in this short column, but here is a start. While there are many things we can do as an individual, many others require a concentrated political effort.

The government must switch its support from corporate agribusiness to the family farm. Unfortunately, the family farm is in a far more desperate state in the U.S. than in Europe. Nevertheless, it is not beyond saving.

Government and food retailers should support diverse local food products rather than striving for ever greater homogeneity.

All of us should continue to support the growth of the organic foods industry, and continue to resist the unwelcome incursion of GMOs.

Rethink our attitudes towards time. To repeat my favorite phrase from the Slow Food manifesto, "don't mistake frenzy for efficiency." Shopping for dinner and spending some time preparing it - even on a busy weekday - can be a relaxing, centering activity.

Rethink our attitudes towards the food budget. Buying quality foods and preparing and eating them at home still costs less than eating out. And like cheap gasoline, cheap food may be incurring long-term costs that we are only now becoming aware of.

Pressure your workplace to adopt a family friendly schedule. Our family eats together whenever we can, but that isn't very often, with the radically varying work hours of the four adults in the family, and our teenage son's soccer practice. Is it really necessary to sell household appliances at midnight or cut hair at 9 pm? I realize this 24/7 mania is a national obsession, but after our summer in Italy, it is very clear to me that it's not a good one.

Ciao!