The only big bugbear about food in Italy is the lack of veg. Talk all you want about althose wrinkly old ladies living forever thanks to the Mediterranean diet, but that was in the days when women got up at 5am to scrub their front steps (I still see people doing this. Or hear them at least before I turn over and go back to sleep) the days before you could buy as much meat as you wanted at the local supermarket. In those old days when meat was a treat people fantasised about eating it every day - and now our dreams have come true. So why on earth would you want vegetables when you could have another helping of dead animal?
Last night I went to my cousin’s house for a barbecue, the menu for which was as follows:
Starter: Selected salami, Coppa, prosciutto crudo, bread, two small slivers of barbecued courgette
Followed by: Sausage kebab
Followed by: A big slab of steak
Followed by: Pork kebab
Followed by: Tiramisu
Followed by: Torta Crostata (a giant jam tart with a criss-cross pastry pattern on it)
Followed by: Fruit! Phew. Am not going to die of scurvy just yet.
Not complaining though – each animal fat based dish was more delicious than the last, especially the home made tiramisu. And my cousin’s place is beautiful, set high up in the mountains between two valleys, with nothing but fields and forests in view, it was incredibly peaceful. There’s also a new ‘English pub’ in the village which is about as English as Silvio Berlusconi but I didn't mind the absence of damp beer mats and sticky mahogany tables too much.
Signing off now - off to look up heart attack statistics for Emiglia Romagna.
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