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The Sweetness of Doing Nothing

In today’s world, most of us have made too much space for things we don’t actually need, constantly inviting clutter into our physical and psychological space. Keeping busy often makes us feel important and purposeful. If we are not occupied all the time, we tend to feel useless or lazy. To be considered successful, we must produce something. Status is reflected in the amount of running around we do, the number of items checked off our to-do lists. But Italians have a different approach. Most understand that keeping constantly busy often leads to anxiety, stress-related diseases and burnout. Dolce Far Niente – ‘the sweet art of doing nothing’ – is a state of complete idleness or blissful relaxation. Italians have figured out a way of being in the moment with such joy and blissfulness that they are not ‘looking forward’ to anything else. And while they may seem lazy from the outside, what I hope to convey with this book is that when they are apparently ‘doing nothing’, they are actually doing a lot.

Some of the most popular merende in Italy are:
Pane e Nutella – a slice of bread smothered in the famous chocolate-hazelnut spread. I would only be allowed to have this on very special occasions, and I can clearly remember sneaking into the kitchen with my best friend (we were eight years old) and eating it by the spoonful, directly from the jar. We got in big trouble.
A slice of homemade cake – the most popular is ciambellone or crostata. The first is a very simple ring cake, while the second is jam tart. Every respectable home in Italy has one of these cakes on their kitchen counter.
Gelato – usually only in the summer months, but can be acceptable in the winter as well, since we often have warm, sunny days.
Panino – some kids prefer savoury over sweet; a panino is literally just a sandwich, that can be stuffed with whatever you feel like: cheese, meat, tomatoes or tuna.

Remember to keep it simple with the ingredients: most Italians prefer to order an ordinary margherita (tomato, mozzarella and basil) or marinara (tomato, garlic and oregano), keeping pizza night light, as intended.

STAPLES IN AN ITALIAN PANTRY/FRIDGE:
Dried pasta (Pantry) This is the one thing you will find in every single home in Italy. The trick is to keep an array of shapes and sizes in stock. You should try to buy only high-quality dried pasta: it will change your life.
Parmigiano or Pecorino (Fridge) A big wedge of either of these aged cheeses is all you need (or both – even better).
Guanciale (Fridge) As a true Roman, I always have a big chunk of guanciale – cured pork cheek – ready to cut into delicious little cubes or strips.
Olive Oil (Pantry) The base to everything in Italy. Don’t be shy when using it. Remember to really make an effort to find the best olive oil out there, whether that means visiting a producer in Italy or getting in touch with an importer in the UK.
Anchovies (Pantry then fridge after opening) I cannot stress how important a jar of high-quality anchovies is. I go through at least one every two weeks. You can add them to pasta, but also to most vegetables. I love anchovies on everything!
Peperoncino (Pantry) Hot pepper is a perfect addition to any pasta dish. I usually have dry flakes as well as flakes preserved in olive oil.
Capers (Pantry) These pungent, briny, tart little spheres are perfect to enhance any sauce, garnish or spread.

CAMPARI SODA
One of the least alcoholic drinks, this is served in Italy in a distinctive bottle, pre-mixed (it was the first drink to be sold this way). It’s a mixture of Campari and soda water, so you can easily make your own at home. Fill a highball glass with ice. Pour in the Campari first, then the soda and stir gently.

Traditionally, whenever you order one of these drinks at a bar in Italy, you will also be served a few simple nibbles: olives, crisps and nuts. It is also acceptable to have a light aperitivo before lunch, usually a Campari soda or a glass of Prosecco. I’ve seen this a lot in smaller towns in the south of Italy, where people close up their shops at midday, go to the bar for an aperitivo and then make their way home for lunch.

When I first found myself at one of these pizzica evenings, I was confused as to why so many people were dancing and singing until late at night: didn’t they have to get up early for work? Weren’t the kids tired and ready for bed? But I soon realised that yes, people did have to get up for work and school the next day – but who cares? Life is short, and people in these small towns truly embrace the important things, dancing the night away with friends and family without a care in the world. They can worry about their problems tomorrow, today is all about living in the moment.