Italian grandmothers seem to equate food with love maybe just a little too much for comfort. By turning down their food you symbolically reject their love. It doesn't matter how full you are. At best, they might think you don't like the taste of something they poured their heart into making. Neither is a good option.
This was the meal my Italian host grandma made for my family and I when I finally got to introduce them to each other. After two weeks of eating hefty portions of pasta with no vegetables, it was a welcome reprieve. That's not to say that we still didn't walk away much too full...which is the only respectable way to do it if an Italian woman is nearby, particularly a grandma.
Since my roommates and I have so much extra time together we've reinstated house dinners, and we make dessert almost every night. The only one that isn't quite as happy about this is my waistline. It's nice to have quality tie with my roommates though. It is moments like these that make quarantine bearable. The other night we made Stamppot because one of my roommates spent a gap year in the Netherlands as an au pair (3 out of the 5 of us took gap years).
We toped the Stamppot with vegan sausage from Trader Joes and caramelized onions. It was very delicious, but it made me think about how Italians refuse to acknowledge dietary restrictions which go against their traditions. I knew a girl whose host family used to trick her into eating meat.
Italian grandma's don't take no for an answer, and they often are the ruling matriarchs of the family, the ones who get shit done. My host grandma sure was. She was always cooking too, and it was usually several courses. On the weekends, and literally all the time during holidays, we'd have at least twenty people over. Sunday brunches with the extended family and friends are especially popular it Italy, lasting upwards of five hours.
A typical set-up for dinner at my host house (big family) with my grandma putting everything together herself. Italian grandmas are wonderful, strange beings. With a loving glance, they'll dump another heaping portion of pasta on your plate even after your stomach has expanded so much that you've had to discreetly unbutton your pants under the table and you're afraid another bite will cause you to explode like a water ballon thrown against a concrete wall. But, if you try to protest they might get offended.
I'm going to be honest, I can't remember the name of the dessert above, but that's my host g-ma hard at work! I swear she was always either cooking, playing an Italian card game with her friends called Briscola (look it up, it still confuses me) or watching reality TV. There was this weird game show she loved in which all the contestant had to do was guess the profession of other people.
She always had tons of food in the oven and lying about because she spent all day cooking: making her own jam, pizza and pasta. My host family had grape vines on the property too!
Italian teens have this cute tradition of getting a ton of pastries from a bakery whenever it's someone b-day at school. They do it for everyone in the class. Above is a pic of us surprising Federica on her 18th.
18th birthday parties are HUGE in Italy. It's the most important b-day in Italy because you can legally drive...and drink, but everyone does it way before then with no problems hehe. They usually celebrate with all of their family and get together to eat the largest meal you could possibly imagine. For my host cousin's birthday we went to this fancy restaurant and stayed there for at least four hours. I'm not exaggerating. I lost track of how many courses I ate.
My host family threw a surprise party for my 18th birthday and invited all of my friends. I had no idea. I didn't even think we were going to the restaurant for any special reason. When we got there, however, the entire extended family was there to shout "sorpresa!" They spelled my name wrong on the cake and my host mom joked it was just spelled the Italian way. No one is named Sydney in Italy, so I didn't blame them.