There is no-one so evangelic as the converted. I’m now a man on a mission, so pray let me share with you the story of my travels. I’ve been on a journey that has changed my life, it’s a tale that Dante might have told, a journey from stodgy purgatory to culinary heaven. It begins on a misty island Kingdom, lying just off the north-west coast of Europe, an island with much to recommend it, a place where I happened to be brought up. Its wonderful people won’t mind my gentle dig, I hope, and they’ll forgive my terrible generalizations.
 
‘Can I have some fried grease and over-boiled, bland vegetables please?’
‘You can have the first bit, but we don’t do vegetables.’
 
Attitudes in Britain are thankfully changing, very much so, but I come from a country of convenience foods. Meals might be endured rather than enjoyed. Many eat because they have to, and eat quickly, for they apparently have far more interesting things to do. In the evening there is often an early meal for children, then a ‘more relaxed’ meal for adults - us and them, and never the twain shall mix. As for the food the Brits shovel down their offspring, just look at a children’s menu in a restaurant - fried, stodgy star-shaped things followed by calorie-filled sugary fluffs. The adults might have reasonable food – it’s the kids that get the particularly nasty stuff. There’s clearly a culinary plot to alienate the country’s youth.
 
So much for the food, what about drink? Maybe things improve there? Um, generally speaking, no. Once they give up their teeth-rotting drinks of childhood, they begin a disturbing relationship with alcohol. Drink and be merry, to many of my compatriots, means to stand at a bar to get drunk. It’s all extremely jolly, that is until the trouble begins and people get hurt. Then, next morning, the head feels like an anvil being clouted by a hammer. Lower down the stomach feels queasy, like eels squirming around in a barrel. And this is fun? Has this to do with those ‘us and them’ meals, a youthful dash from the ‘them’ to the ‘us’? The gas pedal gets floored, but the brake pedal ignored, the same crazy car driven long into ‘mature’ adulthood.
 
OK, OK, so I know I’m over-cooking it. Who doesn’t enjoy the occasional grease-fest and drinking a little too much? There can be some great food in Britain. But I moved to a far more enlightened land.
 
I did it in the proper way, of course, with no half-measures. I married an Italian, moved to her wonderful country, and learned how to eat, drink and live. It’s always fascinating being an outsider, for you look back on your own country in a wholly different way. Some aspects of it you appreciate all the more - you’re horrified at defects you’d never noticed before. There are many things I miss about the UK of course, but how lucky I am to have landed in the Veneto, the most fascinating region in Italy. What a place. Builders and laborers argue over recipes. They organize meals that last for hours on end. It’s a passion shared right across society. The local motto truly is: Eat, Drink and be Merry. I’ve landed in true civilization.
 
What are the secrets? Let’s first address how they treat their children, for upbringing is all, where learning and good habits begin. Italians actually sit down and eat with their children. Yes, you read that correctly. When is a great time for talking together, communicating, discussing interests, tasks, hopes and fears? The Brits have only to ask those wily Italians, where generations still understand each other, and youths don’t think their parents are awful. Young ones don’t have to sit all the time, they come and go as adults slowly sip wine, but along with the next course arrives piccolo Luigi, taking his rightful place at the table. And children’s menus? Unheard of. What right-headed parent would poison precious piccolo Luigi? No grease-fests for him, perish the thought – what’s good enough for the adults is good enough for the kids. ‘Food and fun for all’ means just that – everyone together, in every sense.
 
What about the food itself? It’s all down to interest, passion, curiosity and dedication. All these ingredients overflow from my Italian wife’s dishes. Her experience in the kitchen is a fascinating exploration into flavors, of how to stimulate the senses, of what makes the juices flow, for there’s something sensual about truly good food. She was brought up by her mother on sumptuous Italian cuisine. She begins with fresh ingredients – using a commercial sauce would be out of the question. Quality of ingredients is everything, and they must be prepared with great loving care.
 
But knowing the local ways is not enough for Antonella, for there’s an incredibly rich story in food.  Other cultures have so much to offer, and she never stops learning and experimenting. How did the ancients, the Greeks and the Romans, cook? What ingredients did they use? What herbs and spices do the Thais, Chinese, and Indians use today? Can the Christmas goose be made more interesting by using the tricks of the Chinese, yet maintaining an essentially Italian style? Experiments may not always work, traditional dishes are often best left the way mamma made them, but what a joy to discover wonderful new tastes.
 
Alcohol is not to be drunk with the frenzy of a man dying from thirst. Wine is to accompany meals, meals full of flavor, where everyone sits around the table together. It’s conducive to chat (best to stay off Italian politics) and relaxation. It’s to enhance the food, that in turn enhances the wine; a perfect marriage of beautiful equals. There may be more drink after the meal, a digestivo, but that’s purely medicinal of course. The children might have a little wine with their pasta, for there’s no great mystique about alcohol. No trying to compensate then for eighteen lost years in ten minutes in a bar, once they reach the magical age.
 
So let’s study the recipe book. The meal is an all-round experience, an assault on the senses. Taste-buds are electrified, noses blow their fuses, eyes are dazzled by beauty, and ears thrill to the babble of laughter. How to reach this enlightened state? Produce used is fresh and seasonal – the menu depends on the ingredients found. As an aside, what a joy it is to respect the seasons. Radicchio and oranges slowly give way to asparagus, hands over to the summer fruits. When the sun sets on summer tastes it rises on autumnal flavors - chestnuts, mushrooms and pumpkin among others. The great cosmic cycle rolls over and over, the heartbeat of nature beating reassuringly away. Oh, for the anticipation, the thrill of finding the first radicchio in the local fruit and vegetable store. Ten months of abstinence leading to a culinary frenzy, those radicchio-starved taste-buds going wild. The freshness of the local produce bursts like a supernova on the palate. Then there’s the anticipation of asparagus. Forbidden fruits slowly become available. Did I mention the word sensual before?
 
After the quality of the produce comes the loving preparation, the aromas from the kitchen already driving one wild. Natural flavors aren’t over-powered with sauces – what’s the point - leave that to the French. We Italians (I’m now claiming the privilege for myself) know better. Good olive oil on vegetables is enough, a few herbs with the meat is all that is needed. Sauces are for pasta, gnocchi or crespelle, and by sauces I mean sauces, sauces that lead one to ecstasy.
 
So, fresh ingredients lovingly cooked, artistically presented on the plate. Take the dish to a beautifully set table, and eat in relaxed, pleasing surroundings. Suitable wines are poured for the dishes, wines of indigenous grape types, gems known only to the locals. Schioppettino, raboso… names slip off the tongue, wine oozes from the glass. Then there’s the company, the chat, friendly disagreements, the laughter. There might be the grandparents, parents and children, or it might be a group of friends, but the ingredients are always the same. And finally, crucially, there is no rush, for it’s a pleasure that should be savored, a joy that should endure. Do you really have something better to do? Families and friendships are cemented, the glue of civilization holds, and all is well in the world.
 
It’s so important to Antonella and me that we founded our own cookery school, Arte Culinaria Culinary Art. It’s how to prepare wonderful food and enjoy it in the right surroundings. Sharing recipes and good food with new friends is always a joy. And hopefully they return home a little changed, like I have been once I crossed the culinary Rubicon, appreciating the value of creating one of life’s great joys. Raise your glasses of Schioppettino for a toast:
Eat, drink and be Merry – Food and Fun for all