Italian speaking practice and grammar tutoring
Even if habits are slowly changing nowadays, Sunday lunches are still a staple in the life of every Italian. It might not be that we have a Sunday lunch every single week, but it is still something that is quite common to do.
Born in the north of Italy, it can now be found on the table of every Italian family at Christmas. If you do not know about it, panettone (which can be translated as big bread) is a sweet bread loaf with a cupola shape, usually weighing more or less 1 kilo.
Cooking is choosing ingredients carefully to prepare something healthy and tasty. Cooking is taking the time to prepare things with the people you love and for the people you love. Cooking is sharing your knowledge with others and learning something new. Cooking is making memories for the future.
Food is such a big part of Italian culture that you can’t say you have really seen Italy if you came here and just ate hamburgers and fries.
As I told you last week, Carnival is in full swing here in Italy and we are eating loads of chiacchiere – as they can be found at this time of the year only.
As you may know if you are a subscriber of my newsletter, I have been on holiday. My husband and I celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary this year and we wanted to do something special.
Summer has been quite rough, over here. My mother-in-law fell seriously ill at the beginning of July. We have gone through some very hard times.
After some rainy and cold days in late Spring, it is finally time to go out and enjoy the sunshine. The moment has come for endless days at the beach, outdoor concerts, day trips to the mountains, bike rides, feet in the grass, and long nights spent chatting with friends.
Way too seriously, to be honest. We think that our cuisine is the best in the world. When we come home from holidays abroad, we always complain about the way we ate there – no matter where we have been.
I’m sitting in my office doing some work and suddenly my mind goes back to my childhood. It does not snow very often in the place where I live – maybe once or twice a year, and when it does, it’s quite an event: People go outside, shovel the lawns, talk to each other, and dogs bark happily diving into heaps of white snow. We all feel like children again.
