Becoming Italian Word by Word

Little Easter in the Italian Language

 
Pasquetta

 After the grand religious rituals and elaborate feasts of Easter Sunday, Italians celebrate il lunedi dell’Angelo (Angel’s Monday) with a picnic in the countryside beyond the walls of their cities.  This national holiday is called Pasquetta, or little Easter.

Like so many words with diminutive suffixes, it implies something more personal and appealing.  “Pasqua di rinascita, Pasquetta di festa,” Italians say.  “Easter for rebirth; Pasquetta for party.” The simple picnic dishes feature endless variations on eggs, including frittatine (small omelettes) and tortini (small torte or pies).

I’ve come to think of endings such as –ino, -ello, and –etto as the linguistic equivalent of the heaps of sugar Italians add to a thimbleful of espresso to sweeten its taste.  A bambina (baby girl), like the little angel above, inevitably elicits cries of "Carina!" "Bellina!" "Tesorina!" "Bambolina!"  (Cute! Pretty! Little darling! Baby doll!) Almost everything to do with piccolini (little ones)  merits a diminutive, right down to culetto for a sweet little baby bottom. 

Many diminutives simply signify size or shape.  In contrast to an albero (tree), an alberino is a shrub; an alberello, a sapling; and an alberetto, a dwarf tree. Trousers are calzoni; calzoncini, shorts.    The Italian physicist Enrico Fermi coined the term neutrino  (little neutral one) for a particle even smaller than a neutron.  In music, prestissimo means a little faster than presto;  andantino, not as slow as andante. 

Thanks to diminutives, a sign outside a rustic osteria (a tavern serving simple food) can summarize its entire menu in three variations:

    Pranzo (lunch): 15 euro
    Pranzetto (lighter lunch): 10 euro
    Pranzettino (bite to eat): 5 euro.

Diminutives also can add a clever twist to common words. An especially endearing form of amore is amorino.  Doctors refer to the patient information insert that accompanies a prescription medication as a bugiardino (little liar).  A horse has a coda (tail), but Italian men and women may sport a codina (pony tail). Vento (wind) melts into venticello (a nice little wind), but gentler still is a brezzolina (soft little breeze). 

But not every little thing is a good one.  My Italian friends warn me to beware of people asking for a little anything, whether it’s a tiny little moment of your time (attimino), a peck of a kiss (bacino), or a bit of help (aiutino).  Usually they’re after much more.

Words and Expressions

Figlioli piccini dolore di testa, fanciulli grandini dolore di cuore -- young children, headache; older kids, heartache 

stellina di mogliettina  -- little star of a little wife (literally), a wonderful wife

capellini  (from capelli for hair) -- fine or thin hair (or spaghetti)

casetta (from casa for house) -- little house, cottage

negozietto (from negozio for shop) -- small shop

Dianne Hales is the author of La Bella Lingua: My Love Affair with Italian, the World's Most Enchanting Language. 

Cooking under the Tuscan Sun

Il ricettario de “Il sole della Toscana”

The Tuscan Sun Cookbook 

Some people win you over with "hello"; some books, with an irresistible cover or title.  Frances Mayes had me with one spell-binding sentence about the choreography of the kitchen (la coreografia della cucina). The moment I read it, I wondered how it would sound in Italian. With the help of my invaluable colleague Valentina Medda, here is the translation: 

*I peel (io che sbuccio)

*you scrape (tu che gratti)

*wine spills (vino che si rovescia)

*bag splits (borsa che si rompe)

*beans simmer (fagioli che cuociono a fuoco lento)

*sink slurps (lavello che inghiotte l’acqua avidamente)

*petals fall (petali che cadono)

*flour drifts (farina che scivola)

*crust splits (crosta che si spacca)

*aromas spread (aromi che si diffondono)

*lights flicker (luci che sfarfallano)

*chocolate melts (cioccolato che si scioglie)

*glass shatters (vetro che va in frantumi)

*sauce thickens (salsa che si addensa)

*finger bleeds (dito che sanguina)

*cheese ripens (formaggio che matura)

*crumbs fall (briciole che cadono)

*sweat drips (sudore che cola)

*spoon bangs (cucchiaio che sbatte)

*meat glistens (carne che brilla)

*oil spatters (olio che schizza)

*wine breathes (vino che respira)

*garlic smashes (aglio che si schiaccia)

*lettuces float (lattughe che galleggiano)

*silver shines (argento che brilla)

*apron snags (grembiule che si impiglia)

*you sneeze (tu che starnutisci)

*I sing 'oh, my love, my darling' (io che canto ‘oh, amore mio, tesoro mio’)

*and dough rises (e pasta che lievita ) in soft moons the size of my cupped hand (in morbide lune, delle dimensioni della mia mano a coppa),

*as planet earth tilts us toward dinner (mentre il pianeta Terra ci inclina verso la cena).

The Tuscan Sun Cookbook: Recipes from our Italian Kitchen, by Frances and Edward Mayes, celebrates the soul- and appetite-satisfying essence of la cucina povera (the poor kitchen) of rural Tuscany. If you could  capture the sweet and savory joys of Italian food and friendship in a book, this sumptuous volume would be it. It delights the eye, tickles the taste buds and warms the soul. 

More of a buona forchetta (hearty eater) than a cook, I found the words as mouth-watering as the dishes, including such savory ones as:

*scottadito: finger-burners, small grilled lamb chops you eat with your fingers

*stagionata/o: seasoned, used for cheeses aged about a year until hard and flaky; semi-stagionata/o, aged for three or four months

*sformato: unformed, sort of a quiche without a crust (or form)

*pomarola: tomato sauce. Cans of Italian tomatoes are pelati.

*pasta asciutta / pastasciutta: dry pasta that comes in dozens of tongue-pleasing forms, such as mezze maniche (short sleeves), radiatori (radiators), strozzapreti (priest stranglers), stellette (little stars), orecchiette (little ears), penne (pens), vermicelli (little worms), linguine (little tongues), farfalle (butterflies) and cavatappi (corkscrews).

Another essential lesson: The abbreviations “q.b.” or “q.s.” in Italian recipes stand for quanto basta and quantum sufficit (whatever’s enough) -- something Tuscans always seem to know.

Click here for a sample recipe and below for a virtual visit to the Mayes’ kitchen:

Dianne Hales is the author of LA BELLA LINGUA: My Love Affair with Italian, the World's Most Enchanting Language.

Following the First Italian Foodie

Pellegrino Artusi

The First Italian Foodie

A Guest Blog by Mama Margaret Cowan

The picturesque medieval Italian town of Forlimpopoli in northern Italy has become a mecca for food lovers from all over the world. Carrying their well-worn copies of Italy’s most famous cookbook, Pellegrino Artusi’s Science in the Kitchen and The Art of Eating Well, first published in 1891, they immerse themselves in all things Artusi.

The Jamie Oliver of his time, Artusi created a cookbook that has become an international icon -– the first cookbook written in Italian, with each tasty, easy-to- make recipe reflecting his love of good food, and a testament to his belief in the role of food in the art of living well. He is credited with establishing a national cuisine and even with unifying the country.

Some 120 years later my colleagues and I at Mama Margaret & Friends Cooking Adventures in Italy  are offering a specially designed immersion into the world of Pellegrino Artusi. From June 17-22, we will visit Casa Artusi, a former convent where participants will learn to cook Artusi-style dishes in the state-of-the-art cooking school, visit the Artusi museum to learn about his unusual life, and dine in the elegant restaurant where one reviewer said he ate “some of the best food available to mankind.”

At the festival, Festa Artusiana, in Forlimpopoli’s piazza and streets, they’ll taste local foods and wines. In Bologna’s colorful food market (above), they’ll stroll with a mother and shop for ingredients for their Artusi cooking class in her home. With the fun-loving father, they will see how parmesan cheese is made from start to finish. At traditional balsamic vinegar cellars near Modena, they’ll sample twenty-five-year-old traditional balsamic vinegar, which feels like liquid velvet in your throat.

It’s always a family affair with Mama Margaret & Friends -- lots of real Italian experiences with local people off the tourist track while learning the art of eating well. It worked for Pellegrino Artusi, who lived to be 91. Click here for more information.  

Words and Expressions

cucina casalinga –- home (literally housewife) cooking

alta cucina -- haute cuisine

alla maniera dell’Artusi -- in the manner of Artusi

essere /diventare un mago in cucina -- to be / become a magician (whiz) in the kitchen

avere un palato fine -- to have a refined palate

Dianne Hales is the author of LA BELLA LINGUA: My Love Affair with Italian, the World’s Most Enchanting Language.

The Psychology of Italian Food

Una psicologa in cucina

A Psychologist in the Kitchen

When I met Carla Nuti years ago in Rome, I knew a smattering of Italian; she spoke no English. So we combined Italy’s two culinary arts: she cooked mouth-watering renditions of such classics as Roman-style gnocchi and artichokes, tagliatelle in meat sauce, veal scaloppine, and Neapolitan pastries. At her tavola imbandita (elegant table), I learned to eat like an Italian—not just with one's mouth, but with eyes and nose, heart and soul, brain and mind.

Carla has assembled a collection of her recipes in a new book, Una psicologa in cucina (A Psychologist in the Kitchen), available in Italian from Sovera Edizioni online and in bookstores in Italy. As a trained therapist, Carla offers insights into gli aspetti psicologici (the psychological aspects) of preparing and enjoying food, including:

*Confortante (comforting). When we are stressed or in a bad mood, we turn to un cibo gratificante (a gratifying food) like pasta that, beyond evoking pleasant memories, is ricco di carboidrati (rich in carbohydrates), a good source of serotonina, (serotonin), the neurotransmitter known as the “molecola della felicità’” (molecule of happiness).

*Simbolico (symbolic): Certain foods, based on their contesti socio-culturali (sociocultural contexts), are associated with particular emotions and experiences: il latte (milk) with il calore materno (maternal warmth), for example, and il cioccolato (chocolate) with romanticismo, lusso e ricompensa (romance, luxury and reward).

*Edonistico (hedonist): Eating involves il piacere di tutti i nostri sensi (the pleasure of all our senses). Even something as simple as un mandarino (a Mandarin orange) delights us with il suo colore (its color), the touch of la buccia (the rind) and the scent of il suo profumo (its perfume).

*Preferenziale (preferential): Men tend to favor sapori forti e decisi (strong and decisive flavors); women, foods that are soffici, delicati, facilmente digeribili, gradevoli alla vista e poco calorici (soft, delicate, easily digestible, pleasing to the eye and low in calories).

*Sessuale (sexual): Cibo e amore (food and love) have much in common, including l’appagamento di un desiderio (the satisfaction of a desire), la produzione di piacere (the production of pleasure) and la sopravvivenza della specie (the survival of the species).

*Afrodisiaco (aphrodisiac): Fiumi di parole (rivers of words) have been written to describe the provocative effects of certain foods, but nulla di scientifico (nothing scientific) has been proven. However, enjoying food has indirect effects by stimulating our creatività (creativity), volontà di sperimentarsi (wish to experiment) and desiderio di fare nuove esperienze (desire to have new experiences).

Just as she does at her table, Carla spices up every dish with bits of storia e curiosità (history and curiosity. For instance, we learn that Christopher Columbus brought back i fagioli bianchi (white beans) from the Americas and that the word ravioli comes from la famiglia Ravioli (the Ravioli family), proprietors of a 12th-century inn in Liguria that served a dish made of erbe, uova e formaggio di pecora (herbs, eggs and sheep cheese).

Carla’s final words to her readers are an exhortation: Scoperchiate le pentole e…liberate i vostri sogni. (Take the lids off your pots – and liberate your dreams!) But be forewarned: Carla’s dishes are so irresistible that they can prendere qualcuno per la gola (literally, take someone by the throat). 

Words and Expressions

cucinare –- to cook

libro di cucina –- cookbook

cucina casalinga -– home cooking

affogare i dispiaceri nel cibo –- to drown one’s sorrows in food

essere goloso di dolci / avere un debole per i dolci –- to have a sweet tooth

Dianne Hales is the author of LA BELLA LINGUA: My Love Affair with Italian, the World's Most Enchanting Language. 

"Chewing a little" of the Italian Language

 

masticare 

to chew 

Remember the last time you took a bite of crusty bread and started to chew (masticare)? Can you think of a word specifically for this sound?  I can’t—in English, that is. In Tuscany I have discovered many.

Edmondo De Amicis (1846 –1908), a famed Italian novelist, journalist, poet, and short-story writer, once compiled a list of words that Florentines of the time, in their quest for linguistic precision, used to convey the crunching of bread between the teeth: croccare, scricchiolare, scricchiare, cantare, sgrigiolare, crocchiare, sgretolare, scricciolare, sgrigliolare, stridere, scrogiolare and sgriechiolare. The intellectual and critic Benedetto Croce (1866-1952) coined the word “toscaneggiare” (to make Tuscan) to mock such pretentiousness. 

Although most of these words are no longer used (certainly not outside of Florence), you still want to masticare bene il cibo prima di ingoiarlo (chew food well before swallowing). And sometimes that means you have to masticare rumorosamente (chew noisily, chomp, crunch, munch). 

Biasciare, a tasty morsel of a word, means to munch or chew with the gums. A piece of bread or paper or anything else you chew and then spit out, nameless in English, is called a biascicotto or biasciotto in Italian. Biascicatura sounds exactly like what it is: mumbling, as do biascia or bava, both words for slobber. Avere la bava alla bocca means to foam at the mouth. 

An 18th-century Florentine writer defined the word berlingare as jabbering, chattering, or prattling on “when others have their gut full and their belly heated by wine…from this verb the Florentines  derive the names berlingaiuoli and berlingatori, which they call those who take delight in filling  their mouths, gobbling, and lapping.”  Florentines called the last Thursday of Carnevale (Fat Thursday in other regions) berlingaccio because “it seems that everyone is permitted to enjoy themselves, feasting and brawling, with gluttonous delights and delicacies.” 

Masticare also can translate as mutter, grumble, or ponder something (as in chewing it over). If you know just enough of a language like Italian to mangle it, you could say you masticare un poco di italiano. 

Some things are harder to chew—and swallow (ingoiare)—in any language. If you accept something very reluctantly and resentfully, you masticare amaro (chew bitter). Although you may not want to, at some point you might have to accept a grim reality and mandar giù un boccone amaro (send down, or swallow, a bitter pill). 

In certain circumstances you may even have to eat crow, which translates in Italian as ingoiare il rospo (eat the toad). 

Words and Expressions 

gomma da masticare -– chewing gum 

masticare qualcosa –- to mumble something 

biascicone, borbottatore –- mumbler 

deglutire –- to swallow 

Dianne Hales is the author of LA BELLA LINGUA: My Love Affair with Italian, the World's Most Enchanting Language.

Living on More than Bread Alone in the Italian Language

il pane toscano
Tuscan bread

    In his epic Divine Comedy, Dante Alighieri, who was banished from Florence for political reasons, bemoaned as one of the anguishes of exile “the saltiness of other people’s bread.”  His beloved hometown’s unsalted bread or pane (pronounced pah-nay) soaks up the flavors of sauces, stews, and soups, just like the Florentine dialect—the basis of modern Italian—soaked up the richness of Dante’s lush language.

    Among the varieties I've found in Florence are:
        *filone (long sticks of the classic Tuscan unsalted bread)
        *rondeggiante (round, flat loaves)
        *bozza or pagnotta (tall, round loaves)   
        *pan de ramerino (rosemary bread, decorated with a cross and once sold by traveling bread salesmen called semellai outside churches during Holy Week)
        *panina gialla aretina  (a rich yellow bread, often enhanced with raisins, saffron and spices, eaten at Easter with eggs blessed in church the day before)

    Pane doesn’t show up only at Italian tables.  An upstanding person is buono come il pane (good like bread, the equivalent of  “good as gold”).  A plain-spoken one says pane al pane  e vino al vino (calls a spade a spade).  Italians portano a casa la pagnotta (carry home the bread) rather than bring home the bacon. “Quando si ha fame il pane sa di carne.“ “Hunger makes bread taste like meat,”  they say.

    When someone meets his match, he trova pane per i propri denti (finds bread for his teeth).  If he has an opportunity but lacks the ability to make the most of it (or vice versa), he ha il pane ma  non ha i denti (has the bread but not the teeth). People who make all sorts of sacrifices si tolgono il pane di bocca (take the bread out of their own mouths) on behalf of others.

    At lunch in Florence, a friend torn between two options said the dilemma was like my pappa al pomodoro, the classic local tomato soup made with stale bread: se non è zuppa è pan bagnato (literally, if it’s not soup, it’s wet bread).  In English, we’d say “six of the one and half dozen of the other.” Both English and Italian speakers agree on one simple truth: “Non si vive di solo pane.“  (Man does not live on bread alone.)

Dianne Hales is the author of LA BELLA LINGUA: My Love Affair with Italin, the World's Most Enchanting Language.

    To see (and hear) mouth-watering pagnotta fresh from the oven, click the video.

Words and Expressions

mangiare pan pentito – eat penance bread (humble pie)

render pan per focaccia – give back bread for bread (tit for tat)

per un tozzo di pane –for a morsel of bread  (next to nothing)

mangiare pane a ufo – eat bread without paying (not earn one’s keep)

Going Green in Umbria--and in the Italian Language

Castello Monte Vibiano Vecchio,  il cuore più verde dell'Umbria

The Greenest Heart of Umbria

According to an ancient legend, the gods Athena and Poseidon once argued over who would rule the city of Attica in Greece. Zeus, the father of the gods, declared that the new ruler would be the one who could present him with a discovery that would most benefit mankind. Athena commanded Mother Earth to grow a new tree whose fruit would have almost magical powers. Upon beholding the albero d’olivo  (olive tree), Zeus pronounced Athena the winner.

The spirit of Athena lives on in Umbria’s Castello Monte Vibiano Vecchio, the greenest part of the verdant region known as  the green heart of Italy. Over the last three years Monte Vibiano, renowned for its olive oil and wines, has become the first agribusiness (la prima azienda agraria) in the world to cut its carbon emissions (emissioni di CO2) to zero.

Monte Vibiano’s “360-degree Green Revolution”  includes a solar park that generates enough electricity to power the entire estate, sustainable bio-fuels and a fleet of electric powered vehicles. In the summer, lo staff del Castello (the Castello employees) trim vines by hand to ensure that the grapes get enough sunshine. In the fall olives from its 12,000 trees are also picked by hand.

A free eco-tour (tour ecologico), available in English as well as Italian, provides a first-hand view of the environmental-friendly technologies -- plus a fun bonus.  Visitors board electric jeeps (jeep elettriche) for an exhilarating ride through the Castello’s vineyards (vigneti) and olive groves (oliveti), set on a hill (su una collina) overlooking hundreds of acres of fields and forests, with the town of Perugia in the distance. 

After the tour you can visit the winery (cantina) and the oak barrel cellar (barricaia) and learn the processes involved in the production (fasi di produzione) of wine and olive oil. The Green Wine Bar, an elegant terrace (terrazzo)  decorated with unique furnishings made with recycled wine barrels and corks, offers a free tasting (degustazione) for visitors. In addition to  award-winning wines, you can sample Monte Vibiano's signature quick-frozen olive oil, served on freshly toasted bruschetta.

Monte Vibiano's olives and grapes grow in such a pure envionment (un ambiente puro) and breathe the best air (l’aria migliore), so its oil and wine taste unlike any others, explains Lorenzo Fasola Bologna (above), whose family has lived in the Castello for centuries. Because of "la nostra tradizione" (our tradition) and la nostra passione (our passion), he says,  il vino diventa poesia (wine becomes poetry) and olio diventa arte (oil becomes art). 

If you come to Umbria, don’t miss this unforgettable experience. Castello Monte Vibiano Vecchio is open year round, but you must make a reservation (prenotazione) for the eco-tours.  You can also buy its exceptional olive oil and wine online.

Words and Expressions

la salvaguardia della natura -- the safeguard of nature

l'inquinamento -- pollution

la conservazione -- preservation, maintenance

essere al verde -- to run out of money, the equivalent of the English "going into the red" (This expression dates back to the time when the base of a candle was painted  green. When the flame burned down to the green, people without money ran out of light as well.)

Dianne Hales is the author of LA BELLA LINGUA: My Love Affair with Italian, the World's Most Enchanting Language.

If you can't make it to Umbria, click below for a virtual tour:

Cooking Up the Italian Language

Il padre della cucina italiana

The Father of Italian Cooking 

Long after the unification of Italy in 1861, the “new” Italians continued to cook and eat like the “old” Pisans, Romans, Sicilians, or Genovese they had always been. The man who almost single-handedly overcame regional divisions to create a truly national cuisine was Pellegrino Artusi (1820-1911).

Born in Forlimpopoli in Emilia-Romagna, he moved to Florence as a young man and prospered as a self-styled banker, trader, voracious scholar, and most of all, as he put it, a passionate seeker “of the good and the beautiful wherever I find them”--particularly al tavolo (at the table). Retiring at age 50, the lifelong bachelor transformed his kitchen into a culinary laboratory.

A portly man with a bushy white walrus mustache that extended to his sideburns, Artusi compiled 475 ricette (recipes), along with down-to-earth advice on health and nutrition, into a thick volume worthy of its impressive title, La scienza in cucina e l’arte di mangiar bene (The Science of Cooking and the Art of Eating Well).

No publisher wanted his homespun cookbook. After a string of contemptuous rejections, Artusi dedicated his book to his two cats and published 1000 copies himself in 1891. It took four years to sell them. But despite this sluggish start, L’Artusi, as the book came to be known, became a literary phenomenon and a landmark in Italian culture.

The inhabitants of every household, humble or high-brow, wanted their own L’Artusi. They still do. L’Artusi remains il libro più letto sulla cucina italiana (the most read book on Italian cooking).

When I came across a copy at a villa we were renting, Artusi won me over with his first sentence, “Cooking is una briconcella--a troublesome sprite,” he observed, “Often it may drive you to despair. Yet when you do succeed, or overcome a great difficulty in doing so, you feel the satisfaction of a great triumph.”

A lover of words as well as food, Artusi committed himself to “our beautiful, harmonious language,” based on the Tuscan tongue of Dante. Translating from dialects and using a light, engaging style, he also introduced regional recipes, such as piselli col prosciutto (peas with ham from Rome) and stracotto di vitello (veal stew from Florence) that many Italians in other places had never tasted.

For the 14th edition, bulging with 790 recipes (many contributed by readers), Artusi, who lived to age 91, added a celebratory preface called “The Story of a Book that Is like the Story of Cinderella,” the saga of a scorned manuscript that became a sensation—and laid the foundation for Italian cuisine as we know it.

One hundred years after Artusi’s death in 1911, the Casa Artusi in Forlimpopoli, un centro di cultura 
gastronomica di
 cucina domestica 
italiana (a center of gastronomic culture of Italian home cooking), is celebrating the Centenario Artusiano (Artusi Centenary) with special events, including dinners, conferences, exhibitions, and performances. Just visiting the site is enough to far venire l'aquolina in bocca (make one's mouth water). 

Words and Expressions

cucina casalinga –- home (literally housewife) cooking

alta cucina -- haute cuisine

alla maniera dell’Artusi -- in the manner of Artusi

essere /diventare un mago in cucina  -- to be / become a magician (whiz) in the kitchen

avere un palato fine -- to have a refined palate

Dianne Hales is the author of LA BELLA LINGUA: My Love Affair with Italian, the World’s Most Enchanting Language.

Falling in Love with Italian Gelato

Only Italian has a word for a lust for food that goes beyond mere craving: goloso. In this guest blog,  Mark Leslie,  author of the website/blog Beyond the Pasta and of the book, Beyond the Pasta: Recipes, Language & Life with an Italian Family, describes his passion for one of Italy's most loved treats.

Confessions of a Gelato Goloso

by Mark Leslie

From the very first moment I walked into a gelateria during my first vacation in Italy in September, 2001, to experience the double-scoop flavor combination of cioccolato (chocolate) and bacio (chocolate with hazelnuts), I have been in love with this very Italian treat.

Most Americans think of gelato as ice cream. However, it is not really “ice cream,” since it is made from milk and not cream like its American cousin. Using milk gives gelato a smoother and subtler texture than the frozen ice cream we scoop from containers bought at our local supermarket. In Italy, gelato is almost always purchased at una gelateria (think ice cream shop), and there is a long cultural tradition of going out to eat gelato.

During the month I lived in Italy with an Italian family and studied cooking from the grandmother and language from her daughter, I think I ate my weight in gelato--yet never gained a pound. Trust me, it isn’t that gelato has some miracle diet ingredient hidden in it or that I ate fat-free gelato. (Mamma mia, I don’t even think they make such a thing! )

On that trip, I learned a couple of “rules of the gelato road":

1. When ordering gelato you must always chose two different flavors –- due gusti (two tastes) if not more, regardless of whether your cup or cone is small or large. Order only one flavor, and watch the counter person look at you as if you arrived from Mars. I always go for a chocolate/chocolate combination, such as mandorla (chocolate with almonds) and stracciatella (the Italian version of vanilla with chocolate chip).

Lillo, the father of the family I lived with, thought I was missing the point of two gelato flavors. He was always insisting that I use his gelato philosophy: a scoop of fruit flavor (raspberry, strawberry, lemon, blackberry, cantaloupe, pear, or apple) paired with a scoop of vanilla, yogurt, cream, or fior di latte (flower of milk–-a subtle cream-flavored gelato). My favorite combination using his advice is cannella (cinnamon) paired with fico (fig).

2. Whenever I would start to complain to Lillo about how I was going to get fat (grasso) from eating so much gelato, he would remind me not to worry because “Gelato e’ liquido.” (Gelato is liquid.) According to this theory, water is a liquid. Water isn’t fattening. So liquid isn’t fattening. Therefore, gelato isn’t fattening, because once you eat it, it just melts and becomes a liquid.

I trusted his theory, ate gelato at every opportunity, and returned home a month later eight pounds lighter. This really had more to do with a diet higher in fresh fruit, less processed food, and a lot of walking –- everywhere. But if his theory keeps me eating gelato “guilt-free,” I am all for Lillo, the gelato philosopher and scientist!

My most recent trip to Italy found me in a little gelateria, tucked back off a narrow Roman street, eating a scoop of garden sage with strawberry paired with a scoop of fennel, caramel, and almond. Wow! Of course, hours later I was there having my next combination –- lavender with peach paired opposite tartufo –- dark, rich, and decadent chocolate. I think Lillo would have cringed.

For a chance to win a copy of Mark's book and other fun prizes, click here to enter our “Fall in Love with Italy” contest.

Butchering (in) the Italian Language

 

macellaio, macelleria 

butcher shop 

The Italian Renaissance had its share of celebrity “top chefs,” but just as acclaimed were the meat men who butchered animals and carved meat at courtly banquets. In Italy meat (carne) still merits a store of its own, the “macellaio” or “macelleria” (butcher shop). The name comes from the verb macellare (to slaughter), but macellata (butcher’s meat) takes on a bewildering number of names and expressions. 

The window of a macellaio in Rome (above) keeps it simple, with cuts of veal (vitello) and beef (bovino adulto or adult cow). Carne can also be rossa (red), bianca (white meat, such as chicken, turkey  or rabbit), macinata (minced) or stufata (stewed). 

Meat is sometimes identified by its source. Carne di manzo, for instance, comes from three-year-old heifers that have not calved or bulls that have not been castrated. Bue refers to a castrated bull that is at least four years old. Rather than the pot calling the kettle black, by the way,  in Italian it’s il bue che dice cornuto all’asino (the bull that calls the donkey a cuckold). 

A vacca is an adult cow that has calved. Latte di vacca (cow’s milk) comes from a vacca da latte (milk cow). Mucca serves as a general term for cow, and the dread disease bovine spongiform encephalopathy is called mucca pazza (mad cow) in Italy. 

Vacca doubles as a coarse insult for a slob, a whore or a woman who is grassa come una vacca (fat as a cow). But it’s perfectly acceptable to exclaim “Porca vacca!” (the equivalent of “Holy cow!”). Federico Fellini gave “vitelloni” (big overgrown calves) a new meaning when he used it as the title for one of his first movies as a derogatory description of aimless young men. 

“Sono io in carne ed ossa” (Here I am in flesh and bone), a friend visiting from Italy once announced. Essere in carne (literally to be “in meat”) is a euphemism for being plump). Rimettersi in carne means to put on meat or flesh—in other words, to put some meat on one’s bones. 

Someone who undertakes too many projects at the same time “mette troppa carne al fuoco” (puts too much meat on the fire). Carne also is the root of carnale (carnal, bodily) and of carnevale, the festive Italian celebration when Christians once said “addio alla carne” (goodbye to meat) for the forty days of Quaresima (Lent). 

My favorite form of Italian beef—bistecca alla fiorentina—comes from Tuscany’s fine Chianina cows. The name, a Florentine waiter once told me, comes from the city’s tradition of serving these tender steaks to the populace on the feast of Saint Lorenzo, the Medici family’s patron. One year English travelers in the throng eagerly cried out for servings of what they called “beef steak.” Italians took up the chant of “Bistecca!” and the English derivative stuck to “la fiorentina.” 

For a mouth-watering video of “la bistecca fiorentina,” click below: 

Words and Expressions 

stufato di carne -– beef stew) 

vacca sacra -- sacred cow (in India) 

vaccaro -- cowboy 

carne della propria carne -- one’s own flesh and blood 

tagliare fino alle carne -- to cut to the flesh or the quick 

Dianne Hales is the author of La Bella Lingua: My Love Affair with Italian, the World’s Most Enchanting Language.