by Victoria Ellison
cucina
through the eyes of an English girl
One week prior to my A-level Italian oral exam, in a desperate attempt to improve my speech to a vaguely coherent level, I was shipped off to Italy for 7 days of complete immersion. During this time I was thrown into the world of a very traditional Italian family and their Easter-time carousing. Although at first a daunting concept, it ended up being well worth it as, if nothing else, at least I had something first hand to write about in this magazine.
This short exchange happened to take place during the much-loved period of Easter, or Pasqua as it is called in Italy. It was therefore the perfect opportunity to experience the traditions of another culture, which happened to be centred around that not so secret Italian obsession…. Food. For this quintessential Italian family, Easter was a very special time. Not solely due to the abominable abundance of culinary festivities which took place over three days, no less, but also due to the reunion of family; resulting in a somehow simultaneously harmonious, yet raucous, familial spirit which resonated throughout the period.
The first day of festivities was reserved for buying an endless supply of chocolate Easter eggs which, in Italy, are somewhat more elaborate and special objects than their English counterparts. Each egg contained an interior surprise and was gloriously wrapped in what seemed like miles of coloured foil. Even the trip to the supermarket became a family occasion, which typically resulted in tantrums and squabbling. Any tensions which may have arisen, however, gradually diminished leaving an atmosphere of contentment and warmth for the night time celebrations.
The opening of the Easter eggs itself was a more ceremonial occasion in comparison to England. I can still remember sitting around the dining room table surrounded by my host family, counting down the minutes to midnight and the moment at which all of the tantalizing and unopened treats were to be revealed. Looking back to my English childhood where, once it hit Easter, we all suddenly became terribly possessive over that oh so rare gem called chocolate, the Italian version came as quite a culture shock. Their attitude being ‘what is mine is yours’ and the willingness to share, came as quite a surprise to my unfailingly British mindset.
One thing I will never forget about my Italian Easter is how I became enamoured, perhaps even a bit too much, with Colomba, a typical Italian Easter cake. Colomba, meaning Dove, is an Easter version of Panettone inlaid with candied fruits and adorned with golden almonds, baked into the shape of a rather questionable dove. In fact, I became so attached to said cake that I was adamant to bring one home, despite the consequential need to carry it back with me through the airport, subject to many inquisitive glances.
So I came to the end of my Italian Easter, which, despite leaving me uncomfortably full yet with a strangely insatiable appetite for more, was an unforgettable experience and one which I strongly advocate if a similar opportunity were ever to arise for any other budding Italian student or foodie. After all, ‘when in Rome’.