Food Glorifies God in Italy

We are planning our next adventure to Italy for September, which is always the highlight of our year, one that incorporates food. Being first generation Italian, one might think that I would have gone dozens of times before. But no, this all began when my Papa died in 2021. His final wish was to have his ashes returned to his hometown of Giulianova in the Abruzzo region of Italy. That’s along the west coast for those of you not familiar. It’s a beautiful seaside tourist area known for its wide sandy beaches, long Lidos built for leisurely passeggiata at sunset, and its arrostocini.

Our first trip was filled with sadness and joy as we brought Papa home to rest with our relatives in the family mausoleum. I was exposed to the lush and enveloping homeland that I had known only through Papa’s presence. We met many friends and distant relatives, saw historic homesteads from my family, and obelisks erected in honor of my Nonno, Francesco Manocchia.

Beyond the memorial service., we spent another three weeks exploring the country of Italy. Our time was filled with historical tours of the Vatican, the Coliseum, the Forum, and Palladian Hill. We walked along the cobblestones of Rome and viewed the ancient fountains, drinking deeply from their cool, crisp streams of free water. We drove on the autostrada, navigating the tunnels too numerous to count that cut through the Campanese countryside. We got lost among the mucha (cows) in the Appenine Mountains. And we drank prosecco and limoncello in Massa Lubrense while watching the tour boats skirt from the mainland to the isle of Capri all day.

But the food. Oh, the food!

Giving God Glory at the Table

So, whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.
1 Corinthians 10:31

Papa always sang of the food he left behind in Italy. Every meal he had in America – whether at a restaurant, a party, or even cooked by my own hand – was assessed against his memories of Italian cuisine. And none measured up to his taste. Now, on our first visit, I understood why. In Italy I found that food – the preparation, presentation, and consumption of food- was an act of worship and praise to our God, enriching our relationship with God’s creation’s, with each other, and with ourselves. The appreciation for God’s goodness through meal prep and sharing. A sacred thing.

In America, we eat differently. Most of us stateside have a different relationship with food than I found my Italian relatives to have in the old country. Firstly, they don’t shop at large warehouse stores in Italy, stocking up on double-size boxes of cereals and chips and 25-pound bags of flash-frozen chicken breasts. They eat far less processed food, nothing from a box mix, and no jarred sauces. And they eat far less, but better quality, food overall.

They also eat as an experience rather than an activity. What do I mean by that? In America, we have meal times: Lunch Break, Dinner Hour. Most are lucky if these dining periods last 30 minutes. They are centered around getting food into your system and then getting on with your day.

But in Italy – ah, in Italy, food is an experience in which there is no beginning or end. It is a rhythm that runs throughout the day, with little delineation between meals – except for the midafternoon siesta when no food is prepared, served, or consumed – until the 4PM café, intended to wake us up for more delicious experiences.

And finally, in Italy, the word is FRESH. Fresh vegetables and fruit, fresh pasta, and meats, although sparingly the meats, build a nourishing palate for each day. Papa used to shop daily here in America. I always thought it odd. Or something he did because he was old and wanted something to do. But no- in Italy, shopping for the ingredients for your daily meals is a central activity in everyone’s day. The grocers and markets are filled with Italians of all ages, with their baskets and woven bags, selecting carefully the one or two tomatoes needed for just the right bardzanelle sauce. Then the cooking starts until meal time at around 8-9-10 pm. It was the rhythm of life in Italy.

I fully appreciate the fast meal prep in America sometimes – when I’m late for bible study on a Wednesday evening or when the kids have soccer, dance, and football practice simultaneously! But I yearned for the slow pace and languished eating timeframe in Italy. I vow to bring this here into my life and relish in the actions that unify the soul, body, and God’s creations into glorious food.

RECIPE for BARDZENELLE SAUCE

Four Roma Plum Tomatoes, diced
Two whole cloves of garlic, crushed
Olive Oil
Twelve fresh basil leaves, uncut
One half-pound cooked ditalini pasta

Cover the bottom with oil in a large saucepan and turn the burner to medium. Place the two crushed garlic cloves in the oil and saute just until light brown. Remove garlic from the oil and toss in the diced tomatoes. Let simmer over medium-low heat for ten minutes, stirring occasionally. At the last minute, toss in the whole basil leaves and stir.
Pour in the cooked ditalini and bring the pasta and sauce together for another minute.
Serve with fresh parmesan cheese on the side and thick crusty Italian bread.