Stories from Italy: The Paradox

First of all, let's get one thing straight. Your Italy and our Italia are not the same thing. Italy is a soft drug peddled in predictable packages, such as hills in the sunset, olive groves, lemon trees, white wine, and raven-haired girls. Italia, on the other hand, is a maze. It's alluring, but complicated. It's the kind of place that can have you fuming and then purring in the space of a hundred meters, or in the course of ten minutes. Italy is the only workshop in the world that can turn out both Botticellis and Berlusconis.

          ~Beppe Severgnini, La Bella Figure: A Field Guide to the Italian Mind

Before we traveled to Italy, we had heard about the wonderful coffee served there. Indeed, here in the United States, coffee Italian-style has become quite popular. Expresso machines, cappuccino instant mixes, milk foamers have all become readily available. We Americans love our coffee too, so Lanny and I looked forward to trying it in Italy.

The first day in Rome, our tour guide told us how Italians often meet for an expresso. He told us it is a common thing to invite a friend to go have an expresso at the local coffee bar. But there are certain unspoken rules about how one does this. First, you will pay an additional fee if you sit down at a table. This can result in the oddity of seeing a coffee bar crammed with people at the bar, but all the tables empty! He showed us how to sweeten the expresso with this wonderful concoction that can only be described as some kind of liquified brown sugar. You drizzle it into the expresso. We learned Italians for the most part like their coffee very sweet. And second, he told us that the coffee was called "expresso" because the expectation was that you would drink it quickly. The cups are tiny, and even then you only get half a cup. But in that half a tiny cup of coffee, you have more flavor than in a full cup of American coffee-- it is incredibly strong. With the sugar, it is an amazing, overwhelming taste that made me stop for a moment and savor. Then it's gone and you are expected to leave your post at the bar so others can step up and enjoy.

Lanny shows off his cup of expresso-- with lots of sugar!

On the other hand, in the morning we were served cappuccino. This coffee is strong, but mixed with foamed milk in a way to make it silky and thick. It is served in a much larger cup. It too is a feast for the taste buds, but in a much less intense, silky way. I loved it so much I usually had two cups every morning with my breakfast.

This was how our cappuccino was served at our hotel in Florence... great way to start the day!

And that seemed to be the Italian paradox:  a country that can at times be so intensely beautiful you have to stop for a moment to savor as it rushes past you,  and a country that also allows you to sit and enjoy it at your leisure.

Days spent touring, we experienced this paradox countless times. One minute we are traveling in the craziest traffic ever as Roman ruin after Roman ruin passes us by, the next we are in a hushed museum standing in front of a masterpiece of art.  We could walk all day touring historic places surrounded by indifferent and sometimes rude people, and then sit down for a meal at a little Trattoria and experience the wonder of Italian food and great restaurant service. Lunch can be a hurried affair at these little pastry/lunchmeat shops where you grab a sandwich or snack and go.  Dinner is always a multi-course event, eaten over several hours, with the most delicious food and wine I've ever had.

We also discovered that Italians have other delights that helped us savor our surroundings. We were introduced to the Italian Spritzer, a wonderful concoction of sparkling wine and liqueurs served in a tall wine glass and garnished with olives or oranges or whatever. They are served in bars in the early evening hours before dinner.  They are to be enjoyed without rushing--

One last example of the paradox we found ourselves in:  one afternoon in Venice, after shopping (and walking!) most of the day, we treated ourselves to sitting down at Florians Caffe in St. Mark's Square. Florians has been there in constant operation since 1720 (that's right-- since before the US existed!) and had become famous as The Place To Be Seen by all manner of artists and intellectuals such as Goethe, Proust, Balzac and Dickens. Now it is mostly for tourists, as it is situated on the largest square in Venice. It has an orchestra that plays outside, with seating on the square, and in the evening the orchestra competes with the orchestra of a caffe across the square. We sat down, knowing full well Florians was known to be expensive, but wanting the experience. Plus, we were tired and thirsty. We ordered a bottle of sparkling water and two cream sherries. The waiter, perfectly outfitted in white tie, and perfectly mannered, served us with a flourish on a silver tray with white linen napkins. The orchestra played music like the theme from The Godfather.  First we quenched our thirst with the water, and then we savored the cream sherry and the little Venetian cookies they brought with it. For a moment, we could sit and savor the hubbub of all the tourists in the square, the sights and sounds and tastes of Venice. As we sipped our last bit of sherry and ate the last cookie, our waiter delivered the bill. It was 39 Euro, the equivalent of $50! He was most efficient in processing this charge to our credit card, and then the expectation was that we would pick up our packages and move on... only so much savoring allowed!

Back at home, I find I miss the rush and mad pace a little. But I really miss the savoring of new and intense experiences. Italy has provided a great example of how to enjoy life in this way. Perhaps I will ask Santa for a milk foamer for Christmas-- as a way to bring a little bit of that Italian savoring here.