Eggs and Anchovies – A Venetian Cicchetto

There is no better time to indulge than summer.

As days get longer and temperature warmer, I feel an irresistible lightness of the heart and a desire for living life at its fullest, enjoying all the best it has to offer. One of my favourite activities, then, besides laying in the sun all day except for the occasional swim in the ocean and the pit-stop at the bar for gelato and/or caffé shekerato, is heading to the beach shack, or the town centre, or the table under the gazebo in the garden, and grab a glass of something refreshing, possibly slightly alcoholic and bitter, or at least bubbly, that Italians call aperitivo.

Hard not to love it – in any of the above mentioned forms. Each person, it seems, has a special way of enjoying it, being a secret corner of his/her hometown, a tailor-made drink, a group of friends… As a matter of fact, after an animated virtual exchange of thoughts and reflections on aperitivo in Italy, we girls of Italian Table Talk thought to bring the topic in broad daylight and to share everything – including secret tips and succulent recipes on these pages.

Without further ado, then, here is what you will find in this episode of Italian Table Talk. Emiko will open the dances with an introduction to the world of aperitivo Italian style, with its unwritten rules, and gives some tips on what to drink an eat for a real-deal aperitivo. Giulia will then take us deeper, into the streets and piazzas of Florence, telling us about aperitivo as a social ritual, and gifting us with a recipe for some tasty nibbles to go with your drinks – fried mozzarella balls (mozzarella in carrozza). Finally, Jasmine will take us to Milan, the capital of the rich and opulent aperitivo Italian style, and will share thoughts and a recipe to make her favourite drink – Negroni Sbagliato.

As for me, I told you already quite a bit about my relationship with aperitivo. The truth is, I love it so much there is always something more I would love to say, or I feel I should say. Apertivo, to me, is not just the drink. Far from its etymological meaning (aperitivo, from the latin word aperire, "to open", states something that both begins the meal and also prepares the stomach for receiving the food, hence facilitating digestion), aperitivo in my view is a world where the drink is at its core, but where the atmosphere, time of the day, mood, people are also key.


If I close my eyes and dream about the best scenario for a perfect aperitivo, I see a small Venetian Campo (square) bathed in the warmth of a summer evening light. The square is not crowded, but lively with people gathering and forming small, chatty groups standing at the doorsteps of the most popular bars – popular not because they are trendy, but because they are genuine, reasonably priced, and with a reassuring, convivial, familiar feeling to them. I see a handful of friends around me, each of them with their drink in hand: someone has spritz, some others Negroni, some went for a classic ombra (glass of wine), some for a glass of bubbly prosecco… All of us cheering, suddenly relaxed by the simple presence of each other as we chat away. I see someone going back for a refill and some nibbles – some olives, perhaps a handful of potato chips, or a few little bruschettine or cicchetti. I see the day passing by, and a feeling of light-hearted simple joy surrounding me. I open and close my eyes again, and I think of those nights in Padova, during university, when we were drinking spritz on a Wednesday night (il mercoledì universitario), in Piazza delle Erbe from dusk to midnight. There was little food involved there but just the pleasure of letting the books closed and feeling idol and light for one evening a week.

This is perhaps why I dislike the modern version of aperitivo – with music, big buffets, dressed up people and what not. I perceive it as a distortion of my beloved, scruffy and low-key Venetian-style. To the modern phrase "andiamo all'aperitivo" [let's go to the aperitivo], I much prefer the good old "andiamo a bere uno spritz" [let's go and drink an aperitivo]: the core is the drink, and obviously, the people sharing the moment with us – little else matters.

Holidays and a Smoothie

I haven't been around here for a while, and now I come to say farewell.

Time has slipped out of my hands these days, and the sunny days have kept me much more outside than what I could ever hope for.

It might sound pretty "common place", but I haven't been cooking much at all since the beginning of summer. With the complicity of the heat wave, the stretched daylight and the imminent holidays, my head has been light and unfocused, and my cooking has reflected its state: big salads, bruschettas and not much else. Sure, I might talk to you about how wonderful those salads were -and they were – but I am sure you have your favourite summer salad already, and what I could tell you might sound like nothing new.

I also have been eating out more. There was, and still is, a long list of restaurants that I wanted to try in London, as you might imagine, and thanks to these newly acquired free weekends and the clear evenings the weather has been gifting us with, I wanted to do anything but staying at home and cooking. So I didn't.

This attitude of mine might turn me into just about the worst foodblogger out there: inconsistent, moody, unprepared, unscheduled, fluctuating and so forth. But we are all humans behind this screen and sometimes we just have nothing to say, and everything to experience again and again before having something worth sharing. There is a time to stop talking, and start listening. I am in this phase.
I will stay away from these pages, and from technology in general, for about three weeks. It is a long needed break from everything -the city, the mess, work, Internet. In the plans, there is me sucking every bit of sun coming my way, sleeping on the burning sand, eating raw veggies and drinking gallons of iced tea, walking on the shore, swimming, eating ice cream, tanning, running, breathing in all the iodine…In a word, living.

However, I don't like to step out without leaving you something. In fact, I thought to share a recipe that has been making me extremely happy in the past few weeks. It is one of the most perfect summer breakfasts I have ever experienced (although, I still have to try granita + brioche, so I reserve the right to change my mind): refreshing and light, it nourishes and quench the thirst, and it has a lot of readily available energies to tackle the heat of the day. And in my heart, I hope this heat will last for a bit…Happy holidays!