A Reflection

This quarter I wanted to try something new, to change things up from the heavily identity based work I had been doing for the past two quarters. Not having a drop of Italian blood in me, I figured that taking a dive into Italian food during its fascist era would require no thought towards my own background or identity. Instead I would examine that of Italian food writer Marcella Hazan, a woman who had represented Italian cooking to me since I was a little girl watching my father cook her food. Her book, The Classic Italian Cookbook, is something that I can remember being used in the kitchen going years back into my childhood, the food contained within packed with memories. I knew much of her work, but little of her life and the time period she emerged from. This project was to be a breath of fresh air from the deeply personal work I had been doing, examining someone else’s life, not my own. However, as the study of food has taught me time and time again, it is impossible not to make connections to yourself.

The Italian Fascist era when it comes to food can be boiled down to just one word: manipulation. Italian cuisine being so deeply woven with national and personal identity, it only makes sense that fascists would seek to control and manipulate this powerful force. Shifting focus from complex time consuming dishes to more simple conservative dishes on a smaller civilian scale, while advertising Italy as home to lavish and at times experimental cuisine on the global stage, was all a ploy to reform Italy’s image both within and outside of the nation. Recognizing its power, Mussolini used food as a tool during his regime. If you wish to look deeper into this, past the work I have done this quarter, I recommend “Tasting Fascism: Food, Space, and Identity in Italy.” by Ruth W. Lo.

Even before fascism, food was a national and interpersonal tool for change and action. Pelegrino Artusi sparked the beginnings of Italian nationalism with a cookbook released around 40 years before Mussolini’s regime. Italian regional groups would separate themselves with food, sometimes asserting perceived superiority over another based on food. On a smaller scale, Italian women controlled their families and communities from their kitchens, developing a spiritual connection to their cooking as documented in Mary-Grace Fahrune’s book Italian Folk Magic: Rue’s Kitchen Witchery as well as in my post “At the Hands of Women”. Food is a powerful thing, used to define not only large groups of people or social movements, but also smaller moments in ones own life. This far-spanning power is something that is recognized and used by the Italian people on both scales.

The message I took away from my learning this quarter is very similar to what I have gathered from my previous in program ILCs this year: the most powerful thing a community can possess is its cuisine. It is the lifeblood of any group, a propelling force that can be channelled in any direction. You can see this in Jewish communities, where food is used as a way to preserve culture and heal generational wounds, and you can see it in Italian culture, where food is not only a tool used for interpersonal connection, but also one that can alter the thinking of an entire nation. I recognize this power in my own life as well. The simple act of becoming aware of the deep ancient energetic force that food and eating hides has given me the ability to heal wounds I did not even know were there, and to make connections I did not think were possible, especially during the pandemic. At the beginning of this year, I felt terribly lost and alone, feeling like I had no friends or direction. After an entire year of exploring my own heritage and life through food as well as the ways it has affected the lives of others, I can now say that I have both.

*******************

It is easy to feel detached from food in today’s world, especially as a woman. From an early age, food is painted as a necessary evil, something that should be consumed at ones own risk. When looking at food through the patriarchal, capitalist lens that we are all forced to look through, there is nothing joyful about food and eating. Diet foods, meal substitutes, “health” foods, and the like are marketed to us as the best option. I remember my own mother going on multiple “cleanses” where she would consume only liquids, or eat branded diet food, one of these disordered excursions landing her in the emergency room after she collapsed from what I can only assume was hunger and dehydration. Food is something women are shaped like, a pleasing pear, an undesirable apple, food is something a good woman avoids, food is the constant enemy a woman must fight for her entire life. Food is pain. This message is one that has been pounded into my head time and time again since I was a child: being told I was lucky I could eat so many brownies without gaining weight at 9 years old, flipping through gossip magazines where celebrity women would be shamed for being seen eating pasta, or just for having a body. For a time this consumed me, and how could it not? The eleventh commandment is, “Women shalt not eat high calorie food past eight PM” after all. Knowing what I do now, it is so clear that creating this disconnect between women and food was a way to keep them apart, to keep them under the thumb of the patriarchy. It is clear to me because I see it in my studies this past year. When Mussolini wanted the Italian people to be more easily manipulated, he created a wedge between women and food. In Jewish communities, when women were not allowed to practice their religion in the Temple, they practiced it in their kitchens, finding their strength amongst the pots and pans. Cooking and eating is something that gives women power. The act of separating women from food is an act of violence against them.

By manipulating women’s relationships with food, twisting it so that it is something to run from, not to, patriarchal forces are actively weakening female communities and connections. By healing this wound and returning to the natural power women hold as universal creators, in the kitchen and everywhere else, you are reclaiming what the patriarchy has sought to steal away from you. This is much easier said than done, of course, and I am just in the beginning stages of doing this. However, looking into my own cultural background with food, as well as the experiences of other women, has been an incredibly impactful first step. By deepening ones own connections with food and cooking, you are creating a tie that will be increasingly hard for diet culture to sever. Food is bounty, fertility, love, joy, food is the most sacred aspect of the human experience. Eating and enjoying food is an ancient act of self love, one that connects you to the people and communities you come from, while actively pushing you towards those in the future. Delighting in the hedonistic pleasures of food, following your nose and tongue through a meal, eating with your hands, belly laughing between bites, all are revolutionary acts against the patriarchy. That is the biggest lesson I have taken away from this year as a whole. Our ancestors have suffered too much starvation and pain for us to be concerned with how much weight we have gained in a time of global crisis, or how pleasing our bodies look for men who will never be satisfied. Eat and be merry, if not for yourself, for your great great great grandmother who wishes she could.