The comforting tourist-brochure idea of what Italian food looks like obscures a story shaped by hunger, migration and innovation
Alberto Grandi is the author of La Cucina Italiana Non Esiste and a professor of food history at the University of Parma
Italy’s cuisine has now joined Unesco’s “intangible” heritage list, an announcement greeted within the country with the sort of collective euphoria usually reserved for surprise World Cup runs or the resignation of an unpopular prime minister. Not because the world needed permission to enjoy pizza – it clearly didn’t – but because the news soothed a longstanding national irritation: France and Japan, recognised in 2010 and 2013, had beaten us to it. For Italy’s culinary patriots, this had become a psychological pebble in the shoe: a tiny, persistent reminder that someone else had been validated first.
Yet the strength of Italian cuisine has never rested on an ancient, coherent culinary canon. Most of what passes for ancient “regional tradition” was assembled in the late 20th century, largely for tourism and domestic reassurance. The real history of Italian food is turbulent: a saga of hunger, improvisation, migration, industrialisation and sheer survival instinct. It is not a serene lineage of grandmothers, sunlit tables and recipes carved in marble. It is closer to a national long-distance sprint from starvation – not quite the imagery Italy chose to present to Unesco.
Alberto Grandi is the author of La Cucina Italiana Non Esiste and a professor of food history at the University of Parma
Continue reading...
