Minchilli - The Sweetness of Doing Nothing Living Life the Italian Way with Dolce Far Niente by Sophie Minchilli (2021)

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Emma and I couldnt wait to be dropped off every morning at our neighbours very much working farm, filled with an extended family and animals. Once we were there, Daniela, our babysitter, would join in our very special routine which has stuck with me ever since: a long, slow breakfast with Sandra (Danielas mum) on the front porch. Then it was time for chores. The first stop was going to the chicken coop to pick eggs with Settimio (Danielas father), then taking a walk to her Uncle Angelos to say hi to the cows and sheep before walking to the stream-fed fountain to visit her aunt, Lina, while she washed the familys laundry by hand. The highlight of the day (and youll see this will be a recurring theme in this book) was heading back to Sandras kitchen where wed pick out a pasta shape for lunch. While Sandra made us lunch, Settimio would take us to sit on the ceppa, a homemade stoop under a big, shady tree. Finally, Sandra would shout a tavola out the window, and we all gathered for lunch, my sister and I smiling and chatting about our long morning and all the people and animals we had seen.

The pace of the days was always slow (very slow), and what our summers there taught us was that you should never be rushed. The best things in life need to be enjoyed slowly, and with a smile.

Like all Italian families, we also spent some time at the sea. During the final weeks of the summer holidays, when my father closed up his office, we packed our bags and made the long journey south to the region of Puglia, which is the heel of the boot that is Italy. My father was born and raised there, and its known for some of the most gorgeous beaches, small white towns, luscious cheeses and the freshest, tastiest vegetables in the whole country. My family would meet up with my paternal grandparents at the very tip of the region to spend a full ten days at the beach eating, napping and playing the last summer days away.

If I failed to appreciate all this as a child, as I grew older, I realised just how lucky I was. The more time I spent away from Italy (summers studying abroad throughout high school, followed by university in England), the more I understood that looking at the Colosseum during breaktimes at school, picking eggs with a family of farmers in the middle of Umbria and eating freshly picked watermelon on one of the most beautiful beaches in Italy were really quite extraordinary.

After high school, I made the decision to move to London to get a university degree. While I loved the novelty and rush of the big city, along with all the wonderful opportunities London was giving me, I also missed Italy with all my heart: the endless Sunday lunches with my family, meeting my childhood friends for a drink before dinner, walking around my neighbourhood and seeing familiar faces on every corner, drinking coffee each morning at the place I had been going to since I was a baby and the absolutely gorgeous architecture and art at every turn. I understood, for the first time, that I had grown up in an open-air museum filled with beauty. So I finished my degree, packed my bags and said goodbye to London. I was going back to R(h)ome.