As I have said before, Italian culture revolves around food. Some basic differences between the North American food norms and Italy’s become obvious in the supermarkets. There are large grocery stores in the cities; however there don’t seem to be any “mega-everything” stores like Costco.
On October 30th we needed to go shopping for food to eat on the train from Italy to France. However, since it was a Sunday, nothing was open except the big supermarket close to where we were staying. So we walked reluctantly to what we expected to be a big commercial monstrosity. At first glance, it was too big and crowded and full of people rushing around. And then we noticed that most of the people were actually in line at the deli counter. They were gesticulating wildly and pointing at the dazzling array of fresh pasta, warm pastries, bloody meat, and local cheeses.
The center of the store was dominated by what, as far as I could tell, was a dazzling specialty wine selection. Beside the wines were the fruits and vegetables. Unlike Vancouver in late October, practically all the fruits were local from Italy. The cheese section too would put Safeway, Thrifty’s, Save on Foods, and Costco to shame. I was surprised to discover that this large supermarket had a comparable selection of cheeses to all the little specialty stores we had seen previously. There were mystifying arrays of Pecorino, Parmigiano, Provolone, Cacciocavallo, normal mozzarella, buffalo mozzarella—and most of these had several different variations (aged or not, smoked or not, sweet or not).
Another major difference here is the paucity of organic food. The only thing we can consistently buy “Bio” is the milk, and that only comes in 3.25% (whole milk alters the flavor of my tea—quel horreur!). We have been told that organic food was scarce in Italy and that the trend towards organic products was a luxury for rich people. Also, as things seem to function in Italy, the organic label is synonymous with red tape and bureaucracy. For instance, the investigation of organic farms to determine sound practices is all done with paperwork rather by actual farm inspections. There are long forms and questions, but no on-site inspections. We were told that if someone wanted to cheat, it would be very easy. Also, organic farms need to pay 1000€ per year just for the organic label. We learned that the new trend among small farms is to set up a cooperative amongst themselves, where everyone checks each other and they can set up their own certification.
Buying our food proved educational. When we handed our bag of grapes to the cashier, she informed us that we needed their ID number. So, my mum rushed back to the grape stand and got their ID. Then we were told that no, no they needed to be weighed too. We looked in dismay at our pile of apples pears, lettuce, grapes, and at the growing line behind us. We hastily grabbed our produce and started backing out of line to weigh our fruit.
Meanwhile, the cashier calmly proceeded to scan the rest of our order. After we weighed our fruit on a scale that spat out the correct prices for each item, we darted back in line. I was astonished to see that the line hadn’t moved and that people were happily chatting to each other. Since we are trying to spread the stereotype of “polite, apologizing Canadians,” we said “scuzza” to each person in line. They were delighted with the apology, but were completely unfazed by the wait. Instead, they wanted to know where we were from, what we were doing, and if we liked Italy. We said we loved Italy—and how could we not?
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