Hello! Great to talk to you again! How’s that dream of yours growing?
We last left off on a train ride coming back from Sicily on the way to the Northern-Calabria region in Italy. If you remember, this is where my next and biggest dream really began! However, we won’t figure that out for a little while yet.
Let me begin by talking to you about Calabria. Unless you’re Italian or you have origins there, it’s not really well known or often spoken about. I think this is a crying shame because it is truly a hidden treasure!
Allow me to paint the picture for you: imagine crystal clear waters glimmering along the unique and varying strips of beachside. You plunge into the cool and refreshing sea and as you twirl around on your back and float away from the shoreline, your eyes feast upon an enormous mountainous landscape…pretty unique.
That has to be my favourite part of the Tyrrhenian Coastline, also known as the Riviera dei ‘Cedri’, named after a unique fruit grown in the region. Here you have the beach and seaside and then within 5 minutes you’re rolling through the countryside, wandering through farms brimming with fresh produce.
My great-grandfather Alfio migrated from Sicily to the town of Scalea many years ago for work, bringing with him my Nonna’s siblings who settled there and raised big, beautiful families.
I’m grateful to have many relatives all in the same town. Nonna’s youngest sister Zia Lucia opened up her home and took me under her wing. I really enjoyed spending time with her, learning about her day-to-day, spending time at their family supermarket and looking forward to our weekly Saturday night dinners that she would eagerly plan. Then on Sundays, we were up in the kitchen cooking up a storm for Sunday lunch!
Staying put meant truly assimilating to the local way of life! That's when I was introduced to the world of traditions! As I braced myself for my first ‘real’ Winter — growing up in Brisbane I never truly understood what ‘cold’ meant — I realised that this was when some of the best traditions took place!
So, if you're planning a trip to Italy, you might like to consider a different time of year.
On the cool and cloudy day of Sunday, January 27, 2019, I experienced my very first ‘Il Maiale’ — the preparation of the pig. This tradition originates from a time when families would only consume the fruits of their own labour.
They didn’t have the modern-day luxuries of supermarkets or delis and if they did, it would be much too expensive for their large family to afford.
When I think of traditions, I have such a profound appreciation for their origins. They’re essentially a way to produce, prepare and savour every little bit to ensure there is no wastage and to maximise supplies to feed the numerous family members. Doing them is no ‘passeggiata’ (leisurely stroll) but we also say, you need to work for the good things!
If you think about this simple and humbling reality, you will see the pure magic that lies within these cultural customs that have been taught and passed down from generations.
Back to the preparation of the pig, or the ‘Pork Party’ as my cousin affectionately called it. The morning begins with various tasks and varying experts delegated to each department. You have the preparation of the meat, cutting the various parts accordingly to then be prepared for sausages, salami, pork cutlets, prosciutto, etc.
Then you have the ladies by a big pot, a sort of cauldron, preparing the lard, traditionally used for food conservation. The motto? Nothing is wasted! Then, most importantly, there’s the cooking department preparing lunch to ensure all the workers are fed.
At around one o’clock we break and that is when the real party begins! A big long table of everyone involved, feasting away after a morning of work. Five litre bottles of homemade wine are passed around, stories are shared and then there’s a touch of singing.
After lunch the host, Signora Maria, asked me if I would like to accompany her to wash the ‘buddelli’. If you too have learned another language, there are some words that you may have simply never come across and I can assure, learning the names of the intricate parts of a pig were not part of my Italian education.
Nevertheless, I eagerly exclaimed ‘Certo’ (Sure) so I got-up and followed Signora Maria. I have such an admiration for this woman. She has such strength and grit to tend to her big land of crops, she’s always busy preparing something traditional and continues to unify her family, friends and relatives to continue the amazing traditions that her family passed down to her.
As we were nearing the basin, I looked down and got a pretty good idea of what I had signed myself-up for. At that same moment, my cousin, filled with wine, came over laughing saying, "your hands are going to smell for days”.
However, this was a job that had to be done and if we didn’t do it, the sausages wouldn’t be made! So, I rolled up my sleeves and followed Signora Maria’s instructions; grateful and happy to keep her company while washing the ‘budelli’ which I learnt means ‘pigs intestines’, used as sausage casings for the homemade sausages.
If you're wondering, a good scrub of lemon, as recommended by Signora Maria and there were no smelly hands!
Now, to my fellow dreamers out there! As I was enjoying Signora Maria’s company and thinking back on the day we had passed together, I began to think, what’s going to happen when Signora Maria doesn’t do this anymore?
What’s going to happen when the future generations no longer continue these beautiful, historical and culturally rich traditions? Who’s going to stop this from happening? What if it’s too late? What’s going to happen to Italian culture as we know it?
In that exact moment, I felt a wave of gratitude for having experienced this. For being together with Signora Maria, doing a job that everyone hated but that had to be done and just enjoying listening to her stories of when she used to help her parents.
Fellow dreamers, friends, readers, unbeknown to me, this moment was pivotal.
Until next time, Chiara.
