I'm not hungry, but I eat it just out of greed!
This is the most caloric phrase I utter at the table, the phrase that sends me on the roller coaster of my scale. Ups and downs, moving from falling into temptation to feelings of guilt.
Then one evening I find a perfect excuse thanks to a show, a piece of theater masterfully written by Mattia Torre and directed by Sorrentino. “Six Easy Pieces” is the theatrical series that I invite you to search for on platforms, but the story that captures my attention is “Gluttony” staged by an unstoppable Valerio Aprea who, with the words of food, stuns our senses.
Italians love to eat; we eat without hesitation. Italy, a country of art, wonderful landscapes, charming villages, great cities, and endless culture in the streets and museums, is a place filled with welcoming people who fundamentally enjoy, more than anything else, food. We like to eat, without beating around the bush, and we do it even when we're not hungry, because one cannot refuse food; that would be madness.
The ancestral hunger of Italians is well known.
It comes from afar. This is the explanation that Aprea interprets in the monologue. It comes from the post-war period, because after so many deprivations, it was a redemption to finally be able to eat. It is the war that ruined us along with our dear grandmothers who, still thinking of the war, banished it by preparing lamb and all the delicacies of our tables.
But we are not the only country that has experienced war, yet we are the one that reacted this way: Italians are those who eat the most, and we don’t do it just for the sake of it; we are demanding, as our palate is.
At the barrel of food, we banish war.
in the brilliant idea of a healthy gastronomic pacifism. Food brings together conviviality, it is consensus. Yes, you will tell me that food is also disagreement, because perhaps you think of the competition in the kitchen to prepare the best lasagna or traditional cake for the holidays. Grandmothers who throw challenges at each other, but in this case, the purpose is enjoyable and it is just an act of care and love.
The table is an ideal place for political debates, for work meetings, for important celebrations.
Let’s say it - as M. Torre’s text narrates - in many meetings with all the great people of the earth, the themes discussed and the political choices made are often unknown, but everything else is known, even the details, about hospitality, table settings, and menus. If the meeting takes place in Italy, then this culinary aspect takes on an almost mystical character.
At the table, you cannot say no in a too authoritarian manner! At the very least, you must engage in dialogue, listen, and share your thoughts with grace. The reason may lie in chemistry: the brain is so absorbed by the pleasure that the palate transmits that it automatically lowers its defenses and becomes more receptive.
But at the table, you also cannot say no to the food itself.
Try to refuse something that is offered to you.
If there is a cliché of the South, which by definition is an absolute truth, it is unacceptable not to try food prepared for us throughout the entire boot. “Try it, it's a cheese that can only be found in this valley,” “eat it, it's a delicious dessert from this little town,” “taste this typical vegetable from this area,” I could go on, because it’s the same for everything.
Those who do not eat do not feel well, as we know. Our grandmothers said so when we were little. In fact, after an illness, the first sign of recovery is appetite. It’s true and no evidence to the contrary is enough to quell a mother in an apron. At the table, you must finish everything, and that’s why they start from a young age to talk to us about a clean plate or to evoke guilt for distant countries where food is lacking.
Perhaps the only excuse allowed, the one that passes the scrutiny of our hosts, is “I prefer not to overdo it; I’ll leave a little space because I want to try everything you’ve prepared, including dessert.”
Come on, how many times have you played this card?
Too Eastern in approach, almost comparable to a fast, the text tells. The theatrical passage that sees fasting as an incorrect political practice is also amusing. Even politicians soften in the face of a fast and sign decrees and reforms.
Fasting is inconceivable in the Beautiful Country.
At the table, Italians manage to do even more; they can talk about food while they are still eating what is on their plate.
Yes, because that is the best time to plan other dinners, think about other recipes. How rewarding it is when they ask us for the recipe for something we prepared, how it directly feeds our ego. How we are always, well almost always, ready to share it, even if in life we are generally not so available with others.
It's nice to exchange cooking tips; perhaps only the secret ingredient, the one passed down through generations in the family, could limit this generosity.
But if Italians are capable of talking about food while eating it, they are an absolute force in revolving all other activities around this. Food, the cornerstone of relationships.
“Let's have a coffee and chat.” After all, dessert also pairs well with coffee.
"Shall we eat a pizza after the game?"
It's the perfect excuse to get men out during the week. “Shall we meet before the theater for an aperitif or have dinner afterwards?” Here too, the fun, the other opportunities to socialize are just the explicit reason, but the real one, let’s not lie, is the appetite!
I know you recognize yourselves, even if it makes you smile to admit it.
So, in my opinion, there’s no better opportunity to see a nice theatrical performance, perhaps everything and not just this first story, on your couch, comfortably, maybe with friends or family and… I know you’ve already thought about it, it’s wonderful to munch on something on the couch!
