Column: An Italian dream manifested

I’ve contemplated this idea before, but now it’s official — I was born on the wrong continent.

Although I marvel at the snow-topped peaks of the Rockies and the skyscrapers that illuminate the Manhattan horizon, I can’t help but feel a perpetual smile dance across my face when I breathe in the aroma of freshly baked focaccia bread and rich Italian espresso.

It’s not that I don’t love my home in the United States. It’s just that I desire a lifestyle with European values, or what I refer to as the Italian trinity: family, friends and food.

Just five days ago, I arrived in Florence, Italy, home of the Statue of David, the towering Duomo Cathedral and a community of Italians who seem to live for friendships, existential moments and making guests feel like part of the family.

After spending the last two years struggling with the question of, “What is a family?” I hope that my semester abroad will allow me to experience this beautiful image of the “famiglia Italiana” — a mix between “The Sopranos” and the little grandmother from “Strega Nona.”

After meeting my host family, I am learning what the image of a close-knit family resembles. They embody the phrase, “La bella figura,” meaning the beauty that thrives in all things Italian.

Loredana, my host mother, has three children and five grandchildren, most of whom joined us for dinner on my first night in Florence. Sitting around the long wooden table, we leisurely sipped glasses of red wine and twirled spoonfuls of pasta coated in a juicy marinara sauce.

From my first observations about the Italian family, I can tell that the stereotypes are true; you would be hard-pressed to find another unit that is bound by pride for their homeland, heritage and traditions.

Loredana is passionate about her family, which is overtly apparent at dinner time.
She knows the kitchen is her domain. When she cooks, she uses the harvest of her fellow Italians. She is in command at the supermarket, leading us through the aisles, armed with, not one, but three grocery carts full of vegetables, fruits and fresh pasta. When she greets her family, each kiss is full of care and sincere joy of their encounter.

The typical American teenager might reel at the thought of spending four hours with their family for a Sunday lunch, but Loredana’s grandchildren seem secure of their family connections and don’t feel the need to rush even a typical activity.

And this hospitality isn’t a rarity only I stumbled upon. Each of my classmates on the program has told me of their similar experiences: meals where their host mothers insist that they take another serving of pasta, mornings filled with cappuccinos and conversation, evenings where family has gathered to celebrate their arrival.

Even though I’m not Italian by blood, I feel new roots beginning to grow as I learn the strength that resides in a family and of the joy that family experiences bring.

As I think about the rest of my time in Italy, I know I will absorb the value of togetherness that will lay a foundation for the rest of my life. It’s a skill that can’t be learned in the classroom, it needs to be experienced and acknowledged.

Your family is a major component of your environment, and it deserves attention. This idea seems to become more lost in American culture as twenty-somethings venture toward college and away from their hometowns.

Italians have embraced the concept of family for thousands of years, and tomorrow, I’m taking my lesson with an extra shot of espresso and a healthy serving of Parmesan.