As we approached the bridge leading into Ariccia, the Palace looming in the distance, I realized I hadn’t only become homesick for my friends and nest in the short ten days away, but also the Italian food that has become so integral in our day-to-day life. Only a few days before, sitting in a typical British pub, my friend Sarah and I had remarked over a serving of fish and chips how nice it was to finally have something that wasn’t Italian food! Yet here I was sitting in a taxi on the way back from midterm break, anxiously awaiting my next taste of Amatriciana from the restaurant down the road.
In the six weeks we’ve spent in Italy, I’ve come to understand how the diet and dishes that scatter the tables of both restaurants and home kitchens not only reflect the palate of this amazing country, but also a way of life. Italy is a country that takes great pride in everything it does; no action seems to be made without purposeful thought and food is no stranger to this concept. It shines through in our interactions with the locals at the food markets that line the streets, proudly showing off the produce that has grown just down the valley. There is no concern for ‘perfect’ looking foods here, instead ideal growing conditions and fruits and vegetables that bear the best flavours. Every week at cooking class, as we work alongside our sweet cooking teacher Mary Lou, I learn more about the importance of good quality products in the kitchen. The principle ‘less is more’ seems to be regarded as a golden rule around here; rather than overpowering the taste of the meal with a laundry list of ingredients, the idea is for the quality of the ingredients (generally only three or four) to be the star of the dish.

It isn’t only the ingredients that compose food here. It’s the idea of a recipe that has withstood time, and moreover the common link of human hands that have formed and moulded the meals that grace our tables. I saw this first hand in our cooking class we took a couple weeks back. I was surprised upon arriving to see that our teachers were not Italians, but a married couple from New York who had moved to Umbria to open a cooking school. How weird, I had thought to myself, that we were going to be learning about traditional Italian meals from two people residing in the same country as the rest of us. Yet, as we began the class and spoke to Gerry and her husband, I felt inspired by the same passion that had led them to give up their lives in NYC and move to the beautiful countryside of Italy.
It was in learning to make pasta, working alongside my friend Reilly, kneading and rolling out the dough, that I came to understand why the human touch makes a difference. That human touch not only has an effect in the ways we interact with others, but in the way we create and consume our food is a beautiful outlook on life. It is one that makes me understand why Italians are so proud of the food they create, and one that makes me feel a little less guilty as I reach for that next bowl of pasta.
I can’t help but savour the short time we have left in this magical country and the food that fills our plates.
“I believe in the human touch, which cultivates sympathy with my fellow men and mutual helpfulness and brings happiness for all.” – Auburn Creed
For now,
Ciao Ciao
Emma Stevens