A Culinary Quandry

Yes, this is a sort of “true confession.” Perhaps not worthy of a tearful, hushed conversation in a booth with a priest. More like confessing a guilty pleasure.

However, it’s not exactly “American” food per se that we miss.

Not hamburgers, as I can get good ones here, and my wife’s a vegetarian anyway. Not sugary breakfast cereal – neither of us ever ate that. Not even apple, cherry, or pecan pie. We can make those if we wish. And by the “we” I mean my wife, who can make anything.

We miss specific food items. I woke up one morning with a dream that I had just been served a chicken fried steak – diner style with sunny-side-up eggs. Science says that tastes and smells of foods are some of the most powerful forms of memory, or at least I think I read that somewhere. I was so distraught after the dashed dream that I posted my dismay on Facebook, and within hours a kind American expat living not far from us said she would procure some cube steak from a source she had (the necessary ingredient for Sunny to make it).  I’m not sure this was entirely legal, but a few weeks later I had chicken fried steak on my plate. 

Now, I sense I will get only a small degree of sympathy from readers. After all, we are living in a culture with some of the most amazing food in the world. We are surrounded by family farms with fresh eggs and produce daily. We are a short drive away from the coast with fresh fish of all types – some we have never seen before, much less consumed. We have a superb local butcher and a fine bakery.

There are more artisanal wineries than we can count. A local oleificio (oil extraction facility) provides us with the best olive oil.  We have a plethora of fantastic restaurants with superbly crafted regional dishes and wines most tourists never encounter while on vacations.

Indeed, it took us two years to punch through the many places aimed at tourists, with familiar standard fare, to find the really good stuff. I’ve lost count of the number of times we have sat at a restaurant table and exclaimed out loud “This dish is f*cking incredible!” (pardon the swearing, but the food is that good – honest)

So, even though we can easily gorge ourselves on any number of Italian foods, which we do indeed love, we have taken on a mission. We search for places that are NOT Italian. So far, the process has been challenging. No help from our Italian friends. Many older Italians would never even contemplate trying another cuisine. Once, at a neighbor’s home for dinner, we suggested to the head of the household that we liked Japanese food. What followed was a distinct, guttural choking sound – we said no more.

Younger Italians have discovered sushi. It’s a huge thing as it turns out. There are many sushi places – some owned by Japanese people, some by Italians who hire a Japanese chef, and some owned and operated by Italians.  Groups of younger people swarm in to take advantage of the all-you-can-eat lunch for 15 euros per person. They order everything on the menu. Waves of big platters soon appear, eagerly ingested by boisterous tables of ten.

So far in our search, which has covered several regions, we have found a number of Chinese/Japanese places, a couple of Indian places, and a fantastic Middle Eastern cafe serving falafel and many of our favorites.

I posted a query in a couple of expat groups on Facebook, and to my surprise, the question netted more than 150 suggestions throughout the country – although the suggestions did dwindle out and stop after that.