Tell me what you eat at Christmas and I’ll tell you who your ancestors were

If you tell me you eat the capitone in Milan or prepare i dumplings in Naples, I will no longer tell you where you come from, but I will tell you who you loved, where you lived or where your grandmother came from. It is a fluid identity, where history – the real one, made up of centuries of hunger and domination – mixes with contemporary curiosity and the migratory flows that have remapped the DNA of the country.

Once upon a time, the geography of taste was as clear as a state border. “Tell me what you eat and I’ll tell you who you are” was an aphorism that allowed no replies. But the Modern Christmas it has become the stage for a delicious “bastardization”.

The North: between fog, shorts and cardboard suitcases

In the northern regions, Christmas still has the buttery scent of the Savoy aristocracy or the enveloping aroma of Emilian broth. In Piedmont, theagnolotto del plin tells of a recovery kitchen that ennobled the leftovers of roasts. In Lombardy, the Panettone he remains the absolute ruler, born according to legend at the court of Ludovico il Moro from the creative error of a scullion boy named Toni.

Yet, enter a house in Turin or Milan today: among the mixed boiled meats they will peep out strengthening salads or the fillets of fried cod. It is the legacy of the great immigration of the 50s and 60s, which transformed the tables of the industrial triangle into culinary integration laboratories, where the panettone today it seamlessly accommodates Bronte pistachio creams or limoncello fillings.

The Center: where the “thin” is pure irony

Going down towards Tuscany and Lazio, tradition becomes rustic and elegant. In Umbria and the Marche, the capon in broth it is a dogma that has its roots in rural opulence. In Rome, the eve is “lean” only on paper: a storm of fried — dai artichokes ai broccoli — which winks at the Neapolitan school. The Tuscan panfortewith its oriental spices, reminds us that medieval merchants had already begun mixing the flavors of the world long before us.

The South: the baroque apotheosis and the package from below

Once past the Garigliano, the table becomes a baroque stage that is not afraid of excess. In Sicily, the Buccellato with its crown of figs and candied fruit it is the living testament of Arab domination. In Campania, the married soup it is the ancestor of Spanish court cuisine, a marriage between different meats and wild vegetables that today travels northwards into the famous parcels from below.

These packages are the true architects of happy bastardization: they bring the Calabrian nduja in Venetian appetizers or le Apulian orecchiette to undermine the primacy of Bolognese tortellini.

One nation, a thousand dishes

Il Italian Christmas today it is a mosaic where each tile has changed place, but the final image remains harmonious. We are a people who have been able to transform the nostalgia of the “country” into a new national cuisine, made up of contaminations and reshuffles. In this anarchy of flavors that unites the Modenese zampone to Lucanian struffolilies the most authentic form of our being together: united not by a border, but by a recipe.