ITALY: WHAT’S NOT TO LOVE. part 2

So, in June of 1981 (3 days after my college graduation), I packed up and moved to Italy because…..why not?

I moved in with my then-boyfriend’s family who took me in as if I was their daughter. And thus, one of the reasons why I love Italy to the nth degree. I have had these experiences way too often for them to be one-offs. By that I mean, the Italians’ deep generosity of spirit. There was no stipulation, timeline or rules to for me to follow when living there beyond just being part of their family. Rosetta, the matriarch , cooked for the family every day and every evening . On any given day, there was wife, husband, children, spouses, grandchildren and an American. She made it look so easy and effortless to whip up her specialties. And meals were a time to connect, converse, and sometimes argue. Giovanni, the patriarch, would sometimes break into song at the dinner table. He had an amazing baritone voice, and was proud of his talent. He was larger than life, and deeply religious. I’m a “cafeteria Catholic”, so I couldn’t really appreciate his faith back then. He was one of the kindest men I’ve met in my life.

Me in the early 80's doing dishes after a meal with my adopted Italian family 

After my first summer of working at a local boutique and getting paid sotto banco (under the table), it was time to get serious about working and making a living. I didn’t have working papers so my options seemed limited. That’s when “who you know” became really important. Another reason why I love Italy: there are rules and laws which exist more as suggestions. Giovanni, the family patriarch, was a local politician and knew a Senator from the region who commuted to Rome everyday for his official duties. And the Senator helped me secure a work visa. It may sound easy, but it is extremely difficult for an American to get a visa to work in Italy if you don’t have citizenship, residency , or if you are not married to an Italian. To obtain a visa, a company has to prove that no other Italian could or wants to do the job at hand. I was applying for a job as an interpreter / translator, not as a nuclear physicist. Seriously, many Italians could do my job . My advantage was that English was my first language and gave me a little bit of a leg up. So the Senator had the visa application tailor made to me (English as mother tongue, Bachelor’s of Arts degree in Psychology from an American university, blah-blah-blah). Short story, I obtained a coveted visa that allowed me to work and be part of the system. And I was fortunate to be gainfully employed for several years. I made the handsome salary of 1 million lire a month. …..which was about $500 .

I would love to say that my years in Italy were spent jet setting to Portofino and drinking Negronis across from the Colosseum, but really my life was about working , paying bills, and just living. I remember being in awe of the sights all around me - wherever I went. It was in the mundane that its beauty captivated me. Like having a simple coffee downtown and looking up at the Castello Malaspina, an 11th century castle, serving as my backdrop. Or looking at the the perfectly lined beach chairs and cabanas in the posh beach town of Forte dei Marmi . It was like a constant scene from La Dolce Vita. Or travelling beyond the region to breathtaking towns - from Venice to Florence , Rome, and Amalfi. I found a deep connection to the natural beauty at every turn. That awe is still with me today. And there are so many places to experience in Italy, I will die someday not having seen all of them.

Castello Malaspina in Massa-Carrara.  

Cabanas and beach chairs in Forte dei Marmi

Venice , 1985

Amalfi, mid-1980s

I also loved (unless there is a stronger word than loved) the food. I literally ate pasta every single day for years. And I realized quickly that Italian food is not chicken parm and spaghetti with meatballs (staples in our Italian-American household). It was more nuanced than that. Differences are not only regional (seafood along the coast, rabbit and boar in the mountains, pesto in Liguria, etc), but also differ from one family to the next. The unifier is that food is grown and served close to the source. One of my favorite memories was on vacation to my ancestral home in Santarcangelo di Romagna years after I moved back to the States, and having lunch with my dear cousin , Checco. My husband , older daughter and I had been visiting him and his family and were going to leave the next day. So Checco wanted to make sure we were well prepared for our journey. That meant loading us up with food. He could have gone to the local store, bought some sandwiches and sent us packing, which would have been an incredibly thoughtful gesture. Instead, Checco and his wife Luisa made us piadine. Lots of them. Piadina is a specialty of Emilia-Romagna, and it’s a type of round flat bread that resembles pita, that is then stuffed like a sandwich. Piadina is also ubiquitous in Santarcangelo and the surrounding areas. So Mark, Mia and I went on a trip with him in his little Fiat to get the ingredients. That meant going to his friend who owned a mill that grinded the wheat into flour. And then to another friend , a butcher, who supplied him with prosciutto. We got all the ingredients and Checco and Luisa whipped up about 10 piadine to send us on our way. Beyond this simple and heartwarming gesture was one of the best meals I’ve ever had in Italy.

Checco and Luisa making piadina

I lived and worked in Italy for close to 5 years before moving back to the States. I had this feeling that if I stayed there much longer I’d never be able to move back home again, because I would have become a foreigner in my own country. I don’t know if that’s true or not. Maybe you can always go home. Maybe home is wherever you are.

But Italy has always remained my North Star. The U.S. is where my home is. But Italy is where my soul resides. I continue to go back time and time again. I have spent major milestones in Italy - my honeymoon , my daughter’s graduation from school in Florence, friends’ weddings. I have also returned there to heal. I had a mid-life crisis-breakdown-depression years back, and Italy embraced me back to health and happiness. Now I go back for fun, exploration and piadina.

I launched Noble Peasant Travels to share this deep passion I have for Italy. Travel has the power to inspire, transform and heal. Travel to Italy is , for me, the key to unlock this power. Buon viaggio!