Delizia!: The Epic History of the Italians and Their Food

by John Dickie

Buon appetito! Everyone loves Italian food. But how did the Italians come to eat so well?

The answer lies amid the vibrant beauty of Italy's historic cities. For a thousand years, they have been magnets for everything that makes for great ingredients, talent, money, and power. Italian food is city food.

From the bustle of medieval Milan's marketplace to the banqueting halls of Renaissance Ferrara; from street stalls in the putrid alleyways of nineteenth-century Naples to the noisy trattorie of postwar in rich slices of urban life, historian and master storyteller John Dickie shows how taste, creativity, and civic pride blended with princely arrogance, political violence, and dark intrigue to create the world's favorite cuisine. Delizia! is much more than a history of Italian food. It is a history of Italy told through the flavors and character of its cities.

A dynamic chronicle that is full of surprises, Delizia! draws back the curtain on much that was unknown about Italian food and exposes the long-held canards. It interprets the ancient Arabic map that tells of pasta's true origins, and shows that Marco Polo did not introduce spaghetti to the Italians, as is often thought, but did have a big influence on making pasta a part of the American diet. It seeks out the medieval recipes that reveal Italy's long love affair with exotic spices, and introduces the great Renaissance cookery writer who plotted to murder the Pope even as he detailed the aphrodisiac qualities of his ingredients. It moves from the opulent theater of a Renaissance wedding banquet, with its gargantuan ten-course menu comprising hundreds of separate dishes, to the thin soups and bland polentas that would eventually force millions to emigrate to the New World. It shows how early pizzas were disgusting and why Mussolini championed risotto. Most important, it explains the origins and growth of the world's greatest urban food culture.

With its delectable mix of vivid storytelling, groundbreaking research, and shrewd analysis, Delizia! is as appetizing as the dishes it describes. This passionate account of Italy's civilization of the table will satisfy foodies, history buffs, Italophiles, travelers, students -- and anyone who loves a well-told tale.

Genres: History, Italy, Food, Nonfiction, Cooking, Cookbooks, European History

384 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2007

Reviews

[Betsy · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book ends in 2006 with the rise of the 'Slow Food' movement in Italy. It is rather an appropriate ending to some 1000 years of food history as described by the author. Of course, people were eating prior to the Middle Ages, but the book starts its concentrated look with books such as The Marvels of Milan by Bonvesin de la Riva (1288) and Book for Cook (mid-1300s) which is referred to as the first cookbook. Spices played an important role in cooking, especially sugar and cinnamon, which were included in most recipes.

As the years moved towards the Renaissance in the 15th century the wealthier citizens and the Pope brought Rome to the forefront with art and architecture. Food and neverending banquets became the way to show importance by consumption of such notables as gilded bread. Here again another book, Respectable Pleasure and Good Health by Platina became the book along side that of Master Martino (mostly recipes in Respectable Pleasure) which showed 'what cooking had become since cities had returned to prominence.'

It is Master Martino who gives some instruction for 'maccheroni'. Of course, it was not cooked 'al dente' in those years. As the years progressed, outside forces such as war and poverty allowed maccheroni to become the food of choice if it could be obtained. Dishes that were associated with poverty such as polenta fell out favor.

The book contines its look at what Italians ate in the lean years as each area's favorites had become what the people ate. North and South were mostly separated instead of being Italian, they were Tuscan, Venetian or Neapolitan until 1861 when unification took place. One of the great cookbooks, Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well (1891) by Pellegrino Artusi paved the way for new thinking on food, but the extreme poverty and wars of the 20th century postponed the revolution until post WWII when new industrial potential finally brought a measure of wealth to the country. Worldwide trading capabilities made Italy a rival to other nations. Sophia Loren became a symbol of the country, plus the fact that she could cook didn't hurt. Things began to look up after so many years of borderline survival.

But with the good, came the not-so-good. The traditional Italian love for cooking was beginning to be lost in the seeming need for speed. Food in plastic containers, food on-the-run, much like in America where Italian immigrants found a life they didn't quite understand, spoke of a need to look back, to evaluate what Italy wanted. Thus the Slow Food movement.

I enjoyed this book, some chapters more than others. I guess because the U.S. doesn't have a real national cuisine, but depends on its regions and ethnic groups, it's difficult to understand why the ideas behind Slow Food can be important. Their philosophy is 'good, clean and fair.' The wealthiest countries like the U.S. could learn a lot from them.

[Carlos Bazzano · Rating 4 out of 5]

¿Quién nunca ha probado un buen plato de comida italiana (entendido esto como que las pastas no son el único tipo de comida italiana)? ¿Un plato de spaghetti alla carbonara, de fetuccini alfredo, una rica focaccia o un simple pan con mortadella? ¿Quién alguna vez ha envidiado a Garfield y su impresionante capacidad para engullir una deliciosa lasagna? ¿O bien una increíble pizza? ¿O incluso platos más finos y elaborados como unos buenos tortellini de salmón rosado? Yo lo he experimentado todas estas sensaciones y en lo que a comida se refiere no existe, para mí, mayor deleite que disfrutar de una buena comida italiana. Por ello este libro ha significado una grata experiencia.

Siempre que me siento a comer uno de estos platos me pregunto acerca del origen de los mismos, ¿de dónde han venido? ¿cómo llegaron a ser los platos que hoy conocemos? ¿Qué factores influyeron en su configuración? Y eso es lo que John Dickie nos contesta en este libro, cuya lectura ha constituido para mí, una experiencia gratificante.

Cual si fuera un padre o abuelo que nos cuenta un cuento, el autor nos lleva de la mano hasta los orígenes remotos de la cocina italiana, los cuales se encuentran en la lejana Edad Media. Ha sido un recorrido increíble por los callejones de las ciudades medievales, y aprender acerca de los gustos culinarios de la época presentes en cada ciudad-estado que, por entonces, componían lo que hoy conocemos como Italia y con ello comprobar, de paso, lo que ya había aprendido en otros libros, es decir, que cada ciudad italiana es un mundo aparte (incluso en lo que respecta a comida), son inmensas las diferencias entre un romano, un milanés, un veneciano, un napolitano, un turinés o un boloñés, cada uno de los cuales cuenta con sus propios gustos y preferencias.

No puedo decir que algún otro libro cuyo centro fuera comida me haya atrapado tanto como lo hizo este, tanto es así que, al cerrar los ojos, podía sentir el olor de las especias muy utilizadas en esa época para preparar los platos, sentir sus sabores en la boca así como experimentar la sensación de que el aroma de las mismas impregnaba toda la habitación. He podido deleitarme con la descripción de los grandes banquetes celebrados por personajes prominentes. Una sola cosa me hubiera gustado más y ello radica en conocer, amén de las costumbres culinarias y gastronómicas de la clase alta, las de la clase baja, empero, como bien lo deja en claro el autor, ello no resulta mayormente posible a causa de la ausencia de fuentes concretas que den cuenta de ello.

La narración no se detiene en la Edad Media sino que pasa por los tiempos del Renacimiento, del Barroco, para llegar al S.XIX en el momento central de la unificación italiana, y llegar hasta épocas más recientes con una descripción precisa de las circunstancias de la época y del desarrollo de las técnicas culinarias y gustos alimentarios a medida que transcurría el tiempo.

El libro incluye incluso la descripción de los menús ofrecidos en sendos banquetes que hicieron historia o que sirvieron de preludio a hechos históricos relevantes). Aquí conocemos la influencia que han tenido los Papas y Cardenales en la cocina italiana, he conocido la historia de uno de los elementos más representativos de la cocina de dicho país: las pastas e incluso una muy sorprendente anécdota que relaciona a Thomas Jefferson (autor de la Declaración de Independencia y tercer presidente de los Estados Unidos de América) con las pastas que tanto le gustaban.

En fin, un libro que recomiendo a todos los amantes de la comida italiana.

[Mel · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was a lot more interesting than it might seem. I actually couldn't put it down. Fascinating and well written account of history and Italian cuisine. This isn't a cook book more of an overview and a history book. If you are a history geek , a food geek and/or a bit of both, you might get into this. I did. 5 stars and best reads pile.

[Romulus · Rating 5 out of 5]

Świetna książka. Doskonale uzupełnia się z równie znakomitą książką Eleny Kostioukovitch pod beznadziejnym polskim tytułem „Sekrety włoskiej kuchni” (wydawcy należałoby zrobić kansel kelczer za tę zbrodnię).

Anyway… Zacząłem czytać przed urlopem i teraz kończę. Ładnie się to spina, bo przez dwa tygodnie włóczyłem się po Italii i kosztowałem jej kuchni. Autor trochę leczy ze snobizmu, w który włoska kuchnia obrosła. Trochę robi jej de glamour, trochę demitologizuje. Co nie znaczy, że jej historia jest mniej spektakularna. Wręcz przeciwnie. Ech, ile bym dał, aby być na słynnej uczcie w Ferrarze w 1529 r., choć jej menu było przerażające jeśli chodzi o dobór składników/smaków.

Niemniej, włoskie McDonald’sy, czy KFC nie cierpią na brak klientów i bynajmniej nie żyją z imigrantów czy turystów. 😂 Mało komu chciałoby się dziś stać cały dzień przy garach i gotować dla całej rodziny. Od tego są restauracje. I szczerze pisząc to ogromna frajda wpaść do takiej lokalnej, która otwiera się o 19.30 a zamyka o 23.00 i przekąsić coś dobrego i lokalnego aż do przesady. Lokalność urosła tam do rangi kultu i obsesji, ale i jest cholernie pociągająca i przepyszna (jak to mówią Amerykanie: what grows together, comes together). I jest istotnym składnikiem nie jakiejś tożsamości narodowej (kuchnia włoska to uproszczenie), co regionalnej. Genueńskie trofie zjesz w Ligurii, ale już nie w Piemoncie, bo tam mają vitello tonnato, a tortellini jak u włoskiej mammy to tylko Bolonia (Emilia Romania) i tak dalej. I tak fanatyczna (to nie przesada nawet odrobinę) lokalność składa się na różnorodną kuchnię. Zbyt snobistycznie traktowaną przez lokalsów i przyjezdnych.

Bardzo dobra książka, dużo frajdy mi sprawiła. Bo to opowieść o kuchni znacznie ciekawsza niż konwencjonalna historia całego kraju.

Przy okazji: nie ma lepszego octu balsamicznego od tego produkowanego pod szyldem Giuseppe Giusti w Modenie. 😂

[Jeremy Cherfas · Rating 5 out of 5]

You might think, what with my interest in food and living in Italy, that I would have devoured this book when it first came out, but I didn’t, and I don’t know why. It is so glorious, in so many respects. Most importantly, it gives the lie to the idea that Italian food is a food of poverty or somehow an essentially rustic food. From the start, with a consideration of the influences on food in Palermo — not Sicily — in the 12th century, to his thoughtful dismemberment of some of Slow Food’s excesses — Dickie is at pains to place the development of Italy’s food in its cities, not the countryside.

The cities, as Dickie shows over and over, had the wealth and the power to extract all that was good from their own countryside and from further afield. That is why there are so many dishes named for the cities in which they were developed and why, even after unification, there still isn’t much of a sense of national cuisine.

In fact, while the “ancient” history of food in Italy is undoubtedly interesting and informative I found the more modern sections even more interesting as they dissect current incarnations of Italian food.

Cities are where Italian food happens, as Dickie says, even when that food is an interpretation of, say, a dish like ribollita, which differed from household to household and didn’t begin to be codified as such until the 1960s. Dickie uses the story of Tuscan stale bread soup to trace so many of the different strands that went into the creation of Italian food, from the demands made by the mezzadria system of sharecropping, especially on the women of the household, to Artusi’s efforts to create a national cuisine, to the mass exodus from the land in the 1950s and 1960s. Ribollita, however, is by no means the only dish that shares this kind of history, and examples abound throughout the book.

The whole notion of the authentic recipe for a dish is, as Dickie shows in detail, a very modern fetish. Pesto sauce, for example, he examines with care through the hugely touching cookbooks compiled from memory by First World War prisoners. Italy has more foods protected by an officially recognised designation than any other country in Europe, including pesto that may or may not contain the officially sanctioned basilico Genovese DOP. While certification undoubtedly added to the value of those foods, the very codification of ingredients and methods has also prevented the innovation that originally created some of those dishes, including pesto.

There are plenty of other insights. In the fascist era, for example, the cost of food ate up way more than a third of the average family income. Mussolini’s famous Battle for Grain, which I’ve always seen presented as a fight for self-suffiency, Dickie says was as much about wooing the rich landowners of the Po Valley with a larger market, and higher prices, for their produce.

The miracle of Italy’s post-war development can be seen in how much polenta the people ate. Bearing in mind that it was far more a dish of the north than the south, in the 1950s average consumption across the entire country was around 60 gm corn (maize) meal per person per day. By the 1970s that had dropped to 20 gm per person per day, and by 1980 it was too small to be measured.

And yet, as Dickie says, the real miracle was that, despite the huge changes in society, Italian food remained itself. He explains how Giovanni Rana grew from being one of thousands of people making small quantities of fresh pasta for sale to a giant astride the industry, by understanding and anticipating the changes in society that boosted the appetite for better food while simultaneously reducing the time women had to prepare it.

And I have to say, supermarket pasta here is way better than any I ever had in the UK. Even the microwavable frozen dishes are eminently edible. They have to be; the Italians wouldn’t stand for less.

[Andrew · Rating 5 out of 5]

I first encountered the work of John Dickie through his TV series 'Eating History: Italy', and this tapped into my fascination with popular/social history and my love of (Italian) food. He presented an entertaining, informative and coherent overview of how food and cooking was contextualised with the history of Italy and the Italians. The ideas and issues he expounded upon here made me keen to read 'Delizia', and now that I have completed it I can honestly say that he has produced an excellent text.

At the beginning of the book I was surprised to see that Dickie failed to include a specific chapter on ancient Rome and its food cuisine. It seemed to me, a neophyte, that how could one approach Italian history without making reference to the civilisation that came to dominate the geographical space now occupied by Italy. Thanks to social media I had clarification from the author, who stated that Roman food history & culture was a separate construct to that of the Italians. Having read 'Delizia' I can now see his point and yet also note that he does make use of ancient Roman food history to help inform his arguments. The central arguments, as I understand them to be, are that Italian food has had a complex relationship between regions, cities, the church, industry, ideas of authenticity and the idea of an Italian 'nation' as a whole. More specifically, Italian food is an urban history and one that has continually evolved based on what Italians thought of 'their' cuisine. Thankfully, through the combination of the book's structure, his well-researched evidence and well-articulated theses, and the overall entertaining and engaging fluidity of his prose, one closes 'Delizia' with a better understanding of these historical relationships.

It would be pointless for me to try and summarise the evidence or recount nuggets of food history trivia that Dickie has marshalled to help support his arguments on Italian food history. It's down to the individual reader to find these for him or herself whilst reading 'Delizia'. However, there is one specific idea that I thought was quite important, and one that perhaps is forgotten or less important to us today as it once was (as demonstrated in the book). The chapters that focus on medieval and renaissance Italian food often speak of the Galenic or medicinal aspects of the historical cuisines. Of course it is easy to understand and still find some comprehension of food then (and now) as being prepared, presented and consumed as part of some kind of soci0-economic transaction, or perhaps within the context of particular foods having particular religious values or sanctions. Then there is the obvious immediacy of formulating some idea as to what constituted tasty and pleasurable food back in the 1200s-1600s. However, to conceptualise food within the arcane world of Galen's medical epistemology, to understand why one dish might need to be wet and cooling versus another being hot and dry? This appears to be a unique (and convincing) basis for Dickie's work thanks in no small part to his well developed argument and his clear prose.

Another reason one should celebrate Dickie's achievement in writing 'Delizia' is that he has made, through his educational and engaging prose, both Italian food and history more interesting and dare I say appealing than perhaps even lovers of Spaghetti Bolognese would countenance. Not only does Dickie present his arguments and his historical anecdotes in a pleasing manner that give the reader satisfaction, it also encourages one to look for more 'brain food'. Right now I would love to know more about other European nations and their food histories. I'm also interested developing more knowledge of other aspects of Italian popular history and culture, such as the links between ancient Rome and Mussolini's Fascist regime. I believe that the best history books are not just the ones that convince you of the value of the arguments, information and constructs presented therein. They must also provoke and encourage further argument and exploration.

In conclusion, if one wants to read a major text in English on Italian food history, a provocative and convincing popular history, and/or a highly entertaining collation of food trivia, 'Delizia' is a highly recommended book.

[Freca - Narrazioni da Divano · Rating 4 out of 5]

Già lo dicono in quarta di copertina, non è un libro di ricette, assolutamente ma un saggio sulla storia della cucina italiana. Si arriva fino ad i giorni nostri esplorando i gusti, l'uso dei condimenti ma soprattutto si analizza l'intrinseco rapporto fra pietanze e territorio e Ancor più fra cibo e società: la cucina come specchio della forma mentis di un popolo.
Molto interessante il capitolo sul mulino bianco, in cui analizza la creazione di una narrazione in cui rispecchiarsi, puntando l'attenzione su quello che gli italiani cercano nel loro cibo e come lo vivono.
Un testo che mostra le peculiarità nello sviluppo di una delle cucine più varie al mondo, e come mai sia così intrinsecamente legata alla quatidianità delle famiglie, non visto solo come sostentamento ma come elemento fortemente identitario e definente: molti riti che scandiscono la vita familiare sono infatti legati alla preparazione dei piatti, e sono parte integrante della cultura locale

[Berna Labourdette · Rating 4 out of 5]

Una entretenídisima historia sobre el origen de lo que entendemos como cocina italiana desde la Edad Media hasta el presente (que por supuesto es un invento moderno como casi todo). Hay muchísima información que jamás se hace pesada y que Dickie además relaciona con otros eventos históricos (la formación de las primeras mafias, con los lazzari, la llegada de la papa y el tomate desde América y por supuesto, la interrelación con el Vaticano y los Papas). MUY interesante. 

[Jack · Rating 5 out of 5]

Well-researched, deftly written, detailed, and entertaining overview of the history of "Italian", or rather the many regional dishes collectively known as "Italian", food.

Particularly enjoyed the descriptive language.

[Mariano Hortal · Rating 4 out of 5]

Publicado en http://lecturaylocura.com/delizia-la-...

¡Delizia! La historia épica de la comida italiana de John Dickie. Construir la identidad a través del disgusto

Siempre he pensado que, en un ensayo, sea del tipo que sea, los primeros capítulos son imprescindibles para conseguir atraer el interés sobre lo que te quieran contar. La introducción del propio autor, John Dickie, a ¡Delizia! La historia épica de la comida italiana es tremendamente clarificadora sobre lo que nos vamos a encontrar y cumple a la perfección este objetivo desde el principio; en primer lugar, pone en contexto el lugar de la cocina italiana a nivel mundial como paradigma del “buen comer” y cómo esto puede afectar a nuestra vida:
“¿Cómo han llegado a comer tan bien los italianos? La historia del Mulino Bianco ofrece una sencilla lección para cualquiera que trate de encontrar una respuesta histórica a dicha pregunta: es posible amar la comida italiana sin que se nos llenen los ojos de lágrimas por las fábulas que se han creado a su alrededor, ya sea en Italia o en el extranjero. Italia se ha convertido en el modelo a imitar cuando se trata de producir ingredientes, cocinarlos y comérselos. Algunos creen que nuestra salud, el medio ambiente y la calidad de vida dependen de si logramos aprender algunas lecciones culinarias que puede brindar Italia. Razón de más para que necesitemos una historia sobre cómo llegó la comida italiana al lugar donde se encuentra hoy,( que resulte) menos almibarada que la que ha llegado hasta nosotros a través de la publicidad y los libros de cocina.”
A partir de ahí nos introduce el concepto autóctono de “civilización de la mesa” que va más allá de las simples recetas, entrando también a valorar la comida en sí misma y la gente que se dedica a cocinarla, producirla, etc. Los propios italianos:
“En ocasiones, los italianos hacen referencia a su “civilización de la mesa” el término abarca los numerosos aspectos de una cultura que se expresan a través de la comida: desde la economía agrícola hasta recetas para encurtir, desde lazos familiares hasta la técnica correcta para escupir el hueso de aceituna en la mano. La comida en sí misma es fascinante, pero, en última instancia, lo es mucho menos que la gente que la produce, la cocina, la consume y habla de ella. Por eso este libro es una historia de la civilización de la mesa en Italia y no solo de lo que ponen los italianos sobre la mesa.”
Por último establece el ámbito, centrándose en Italia y llegando a introducir el concepto de identidad que se asocia a dicha comida, la italiana, una identidad nacional:
“La exhaustividad es otra tentación a la que he tenido que resistirme. La comida italiana se ha convertido en una comida internacional, y un estudio completo abarcaría Gran Bretaña, Estados Unidos, Sudamérica y Australia, además de Italia. Muchas de las historias aquí relatadas demuestran que la comida italiana se ha formado tanto en sus promiscuos viajes como en sus firmes raíces en el terreno de la península. Pero allá donde la comida italiana ha viajado tan lejos, que ha pasado a formar parte en la historia de otros países, he cesado de seguir su rastro.
La razón de este enfoque decididamente italiano es que, en su mejor versión, la comida italiana tiene carisma. Y su carisma se deriva de una relación casi poética con el lugar y la identidad. Los italianos comen muy bien porque comer enriquece su sentido del lugar del que provienen y de quienes son. Las ciudades italianas son los lugares donde se forjaron esos vínculos entre comida e identidad.”
A partir de ahí es exhaustivo el recorrido cronológico que lleva a cabo el autor desde la mesa medieval pasando por la Segunda Guerra mundial hasta los tiempos actuales; un recorrido que va uniendo indefectiblemente la evolución histórica de la nación con la evolución culinaria, desde la misma entrada de los espaguetis en Italia:
“La historia de la comida italiana comienza con la llegada de los espaguetis, que fueron introducidos en Sicilia por los invasores musulmanes. Más concretamente, la historia de la comida italiana empieza cuando los espaguetis entran en el diálogo culinario entre las ciudades italianas, en cuyo proceso dejaron de ser una importación exótica. Cómo llegó a suceder tal cosa lo entenderemos mejor a través de la historia de un musulmán siciliano en particular y del mapa que creó, que ofrece la primera prueba crucial de la historia de la comida italiana. También es uno de los tesoros artísticos más hermosos de la civilización medieval y un documento de la barbarie.”
En este orden de cosas, no solo la pasta es decisiva para esta evolución, de ahí la importancia que cobraron en la antigüedad las especias:
“Pero, aunque Venecia no fuera el puerto a través del cual entró la pasta en Italia, la ciudad de Marco Polo tuvo una enorme influencia en la cocina medieval italiana. De hecho, las razones por las que Venecia ocupa un lugar tan preponderante en la historia de la comida, por las que los venecianos encontraban tan atractivas las historias de Marco Polo sobre China y por las que los mercaderes venecianos se sintieron inspirados por la avaricia y la grandeza, son una y la misma: las especias. […] La ciudad sobre la laguna era el mayor centro europeo de comercio de especias.”
Sin embargo no será hasta el siglo XVIII cuando será autoconsciente la identificación de la pasta con el pueblo:
“Pero en el siglo XVIII, Nápoles también adquirió una representación ritual de la abundancia que podía recrearse a diario: comer maccheroni. A mediados del siglo XVIII, la ciudad se había labrado una reputación como capital italiana de los maccheroni. Fue en Nápoles donde la pasta se convirtió en lo que es hoy: un plato del pueblo, la gloria suprema de la dieta italiana cotidiana.”
No hay muchas comparaciones con otros países, sin embargo, hay una excepción muy evidente (y ciertamente divertida) al describir las “costumbres británicas” a la hora de comer:
“Los británicos –al menos a juicio de los italianos- son ajenos a ese refinamiento. Sin pensar en colocar una servilleta entre sus dedos mugrientos y su nauseabunda comida, mastican bocadillos en el coche, devoran hamburguesas en trenes o autobuses y engullen kebabs o patatas mientras se tambalean de una taberna a otra. De hecho, los británicos comen cualquier cosa, en cualquier lugar y en cualquier momento. Cuando celebran una fiesta, incluso se sientan con las piernas cruzadas encima de las alfombras y se zampan caóticas montañas de pasteles, bocadillos, patatas fritas y salchichas.
Para los italianos es un misterio que los británicos parezcan quererlo todo en el mismo plano. Pizza y ensalada. Y pan con ajo. Y patatas. En ocasiones especiales, a los italianos les gusta saborear cómo el antipasto, el primo, el secondo, el contorno y el dolce describen un patrón evolutivo de sabores y texturas distintos. Para embutir toda una comida en diez minutos, los británicos inventaron el almuerzo dominical; para anular sus diferentes sabores, inventaron la salsa de carne.”
Lo que nos lleva una reflexión muy interesante y que revela una faceta de nosotros mismos (que por cierto Facebook se está perdiendo) que sirve para construir la identidad de una persona: la definición de la persona a través de lo que le disgusta. Es en el disgusto en donde la persona se muestra más visceral, donde de verdad da pistas sobre lo que es; los italianos son tan proteccionistas con sus aspectos culinarios que no pueden evitar despreciar y disgustarse ante la misma existencia de algo tan opuesto como “lo británico”:
“El pavor de los italianos hacia la comida británica se expresa en numerosos estereotipos, pero también revela una verdad sobre las emociones humanas más viscerales: nos definimos por lo que nos disgusta. Cuando nos estremecemos de repugnancia, nuestros cuerpos vibran al son de nuestros prejuicios más rígidos. Se ha incumplido una norma; se ha producido una contaminación. Y lo sabemos porque lo notamos tanto física como mentalmente. Quizá de manera más convincente que cualquier otra sensación, el disgusto demuestra quiénes somos. Porque no nos gustan esas cosas.”
No quería dejar pasar este último párrafo al respecto de Giovanni Rana, el gran artífice y creador de los tortellini en Italia como empresa; hablar de su éxito no es más que un pretexto que Dickie utiliza para sacar a relucir el verdadero triunfo actual de la comida italiana: esa mezcla de innovación y conservadurismo que tanto gusta los italianos:
“La trayectoria de Giovanni Rana ilustra muchas cosas sobre la historia reciente de Italia. Su negocio es típico de las empresas familiares que se convirtieron en el motor de la economía italiana en los años ochenta e hicieron del Véneto una de las regiones más ricas de Europa. Su espectacular éxito se debe fundamentalmente a dos cosas: cómo ha sacado rédito de los profundos cambios experimentados en la cultura alimentaria de las familias italianas; y su capacidad para innovar a la vez que halaga el conservadurismo de los italianos a la mesa, su obsesión por consumir alimentos buenos y auténticos y su preciada idea de que la comida debe ser rural, tradicional y típica.
Si Giovanni Rana ha de ser considerado un héroe o un villano de la civilización italiana de la mesa depende de su punto de vista. También de cómo se interpretan términos como “tradicional” y “auténtico” y de si ha renunciado a demasiada creatividad y a algunas cualidades valiosas para liberar las mujeres del duro trabajo semanal que conllevaba preparar tortellini.”
Suculento el ensayo que nos trajo Debate: una perfecta conjunción entre evolución histórica y culinaria que es sabroso por naturaleza y viene muy bien aderezado con un aliño de buen humor.
Los textos pertenecen a la traducción de Efrén del Valle Peñamil de ¡Delizia! La historia épica de la comida italiana de John Dickie en Debate.

[Hanna · Rating 5 out of 5]

I want to give this book 6 stars 🤯
I’m Italian AND a foodie, so I feel like this book was written for me. I learned so much and felt entertained at the same time. Also loved the pictures that were included!

Highly recommend if you want to learn more about the history of Italian food, as explained by Italy’s history and vice versa 😍

[Cody · Rating 3 out of 5]

Enjoyable book with lots of interesting details. The last chapter felt a little tacked on, but overall I'm glad I read it.

[mamba karramba · Rating 4 out of 5]

nocą śni mi się mocarela.

[Jerry · Rating 4 out of 5]

The subtitle makes for a lot to live up to, and Dickie mostly lives up to it. This is a history of Italian food from Italy’s history as a collection of city-states, as a territory coveted and conquered by outside forces, and as a self-made renewed nation; then its history through the Great War, fascism, the American renaissance, and Sophia Loren.

Throwing roast suckling pigs to the rabble may not seem a particularly sophisticated means of government, but Bologna’s political stability tells us that it actually worked very well.

While Italy’s gastronomic history is obviously going to be influenced by its Roman history, much of classical Rome was forgotten in favor of religious Rome. Although some of that seems more pagan than Christian.

Martorana Fruit … was originally used as a way of involving children in the Day of the Dead. Mothers would hide small presents around the house, such as fruits, sweets, and sugar dolls, which were supposed to be gifts to the children from departed relatives. (Sicily)

I don’t know whether to call that touching or horrifying.

As is generally well known now, the history of pasta in Italy far precedes Marco Polo. But pasta may also be the impetus for the indispensable Western utensil, the fork.

…the reason Italians took to eating with forks far earlier than anyone else was probably that they were so fond of pasta.

One of the first two Italian—rather than Latin or French—cookbooks used in Italy is the Venetian Libro per cuoco. The recipes are numbered, a tradition that continued into Pellegrino Artusi’s classic cookbook and many vintage American refrigerator manuals.

I’ve cooked from Artusi’s book, and it is fascinating for its informal style. But it also represents and almost impossible task. Some of the recipes are incomprehensible even to fluent Italians, and this is not just because of its age. Italy was and still is to an extent a collection of states each with their own language.

But it is on the issue of language that Artusi really goes into battle for Italian food. In one of the early recipes he declares that he will reject high-sounding French labels; for the sake of Italian dignity he will instead use “our beautiful, harmless language.” But the real challenge he faced was that this “beautiful, harmonious language” had not yet been invented… Italy had no shared vocabulary in which a Venetian and a Neapolitan could come to terms with pots-and-pans issues.

According to Dickie, Artusi made an attempt to standardize on kitchen terminology in his book and later writings.

Italians largely have Artusi to thank if they do not have to go armed with a large dictionary every time they eat in a restaurant outside their own hometown.

Dickie has his own informal style, and I wonder what percentage of his readers he expected to get the joke in the penultimate chapter’s title, “Faulty Basil”, for a chapter on true Genoese pesto. Dickie is British, and of the right age to be familiar with John Cleese’s most famous television series.

When eating pesto, the olfactory senses are so pervaded by fragrance that solid food is exalted to a point fleetingly within reach of the spiritual realm.

Italy is possibly the biggest user of the European Union’s DOP and IGP programs. That is, protected designation of origin and Protected Geographical Indication. At the time of this book was written, “Genoese pesto is still waiting optimistically for its DOP or IGP credentials.” My understanding is that it does now have DOP protection.

Some of the funniest parts are when he starts comparing Italian feeling about food over time and over geography. Like many cultures, foods that started as disgusting have become well-loved, including pizza. This has happened in the United States, too. I watched the first couple of seasons of The Beverly Hillbillies several years ago, and many of the hill country foods that show made fun of the Clampetts eating are now upscale food options.

American food preferences, of course, take a beating, but a very funny one.

To the Italian palate, the American way of eating is a cornucopia of horrors. The gastronomic culture clash begins over breakfast. In the morning, the Italians gently coax their metabolism into activity with coffee and a delicate pastry. The very notion of frying anything so early in the day is enough to make stomachs turn. So the classic American breakfast is an outrage; among its most nauseating textures are sausage patties and those mattresslike omelets into which the entire contents of a refrigerator have been emptied. Grits defy belief. And anyone in Italy who tried serving a steak before the early afternoon would be disowned by their family.

Such crimes are compounded by another national pathology: the compulsive need to have everything on the same plate. Bacon with hash browns. And pancakes with maple syrup and cherry topping. And apple-sauce. And eggs. And a salad garnish. And a heap of fruit. Why not—it might occur to an Italian to ask—serve it all in a bucket and pour some of your edifying cereals in milk over the top, too?

I texted this quote to an Italian friend, and she responded “I’ve asked this exact question.”

But this was not a chapter about Italian disgust over American eating, but about Italian disgust in the past over foods that have since become Italian staples. Pasta al dente was unthinkable until it wasn’t. Pizza was a “patchwork of greasy filth” that spread disease.

Throughout the book, Dickie focuses on cookbook authors and how they reflect their times, from Cristoforo da Messisbugo through Pellegrino Artusi and up to Sophia Loren. He even devotes a chapter to an absolutely fascinating book that is completely unavailable. In the Great War, Second Lieutenant Giuseppe Chiusi was captured and held in a POW camp in Celle, Germany. He and his companions (especially Second Lieutenant Luigi Marazza) wrote and illustrated Arte Culinaria and as described it is an impressive collection of foods from throughout Italy. It is also completely unavailable outside the family.

There are also a handful of recipes from these various books (except Arte Culinaria). Here is where they appear, and it is close to chronological order:

Fine Spices for Everything: p. 51
Garlic Sauce for All Kinds of Meat: p. 54
Pope Julius III Royal White Tart: p. 121
Mortadelle: p. 141
Spanish Tomato Sauce: p. 162
Italian Spaghetti and Meatballs: p. 226
Pesto alla Genovese: p. 235
Ribollita: p. 285
Tuscan Peasant Soup: p. 288
True Genoese Pesto: p. 303

There are also many semi-recipes, usually accompanying menus such as Cristoforo da Messisbugo’s feast starting on page 84; and the Holy Palate Tavern’s Futurist menu on pages 250-251.

Italian food can only reinvent itself by pretending it has stayed the same.

[Karry · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a book that follows the history of Italian food, where it came from, and who were the people that most influenced Italian cooking. It was well written and I learned many facts that I had not known before. There were a few statements that I questioned, at least and doubted somewhat. I liked the fact that the author focused a lot on cities through time and being an urbanologist that fact alone encouraged me to give it an extra point. On the other hand, there was so much praising and cheerleading about how amazing Italians and their food was, that before too long I started to doubt the validity of anything the writer said. Additionally, I sometimes get tired of the condemning of the USA for nearly everything that's wrong in the world, that I think writers should keep it to themselves. I think the editors needed to do a bit of pruning of the bias.

[Malcolm · Rating 4 out of 5]

Strings together some interesting stories illuminating Italian society as well as its food history. Arabic traders brought dried pasta to Sicily during the reign of Roger II. From there it spread to the rest of Italy. I didn't realize that the poor immigrants to the Americas in the late 1800's ate mostly polenta back home as pasta was too expensive. I was surprised to learn that Italian workers in America were a great bargain in that they cost $6.90 per month to feed compared with $18 for non-Italians. Once they were established here they were able to make and then popularize the pasta dishes we know as Italian food. I didn't know Sophia Loren was known as an advocate for cooking with ingredients at home. Much of the book involves the different food traditions of the different regions which didn't merge to become Italian cuisine for hundreds of years.

[Katina · Rating 4 out of 5]

I might not have enjoyed this book as much as I did if I hadn't read the majority of it on Trenitalia. I thought Dickie presented a great set of case studies that seemed well-sourced and thoroughly researched. Reading this book even helped me learn more about Italian history and helped me provide know-it-all anecdotes to my husband about his soup choice ("ribollita") at one of our dinners in Rome.

[Simon · Rating 4 out of 5]

Or "Everything you think you know about Italian food is wrong".
Exhaustively researched, full of fascinating anecdotes, and at least as much history and sociology as cuisine. Learn about the Renaissance's obssession with sugar and spice, how the Arabs invented pasta, why northern Italians thought pizza would give them cholera, and how many "traditional, authentic" Italian foods are relatively recent (i.e. 20th century) inventions.

[Matthew Calamatta · Rating 5 out of 5]

Superb. Full of love and good taste

Food as identity. As history. As politics. As philosophy. And yet not in the least dry. It is juicy with flavors and aromas, oils and spices, meats, fishes and pastas and grains. A delicious and nourishing delight.

[Stephen Conti · Rating 5 out of 5]

anyone who has ever eaten a slice of pizza. NEEDS to read this book if just for anchovie stuffed tomato recipe.

[Peter J. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Fantastic journey through (elite) culinary times in Italy, how taste and needs change over time. There was so much use of cinnamon!

[Marin · Rating 5 out of 5]

I thoroughly enjoyed this book — it offers an insightful and engaging exploration of the evolution of Italian cuisine, examining how it has transformed and adapted over the centuries. The author discusses important writings, figures, events, and even myths, all with both affection and a refreshing objectivity. It’s the kind of book that makes you look at what’s on your plate in a completely new way.
Some of the most striking insights I took away include:
- Italian cuisine is urban, not peasant-based.
Contrary to the widespread notion that Italy’s celebrated food traditions grew from rustic peasant roots, the book shows that they are products of the country’s exceptionally rich urban culture.
As in many other countries, peasants' diets were poor and limited in range. The enviable Italian way of eating is, in fact, city food.
- The story of pasta begins in Sicily.
Spaghetti arrived with Muslim invaders, and by 1150, shiploads of pasta secca were already being exported from Trabia, Sicily. Though the Chinese had been eating noodles for millennia, their culture differed in one crucial way: they never cultivated hard-grain durum wheat. The Arab geographer al-Idrisi confirms that pasta existed in Sicily at least a century before Marco Polo’s birth—making the myth of him bringing it from China a culinary “Chinese whisper.”
- Medieval Italian cooking was heavily spiced.
Long before Marco Polo set off on his travels, the air of Venice’s Rialto was already thick with the scents of pepper, ginger, nutmeg, cloves, and cinnamon. The city’s elite cuisine resembled dishes like chicken korma more than fegato alla veneziana. Local cooking styles, now celebrated as ancient and distinct, were not yet part of the medieval mindset—Venetian merchants sought the same exotic flavors prized across Italy.
- Italy’s reputation for great food is relatively recent
Most Grand Tourists agreed: with honourable exceptions like mortadella and Parmesan, Italy’s food was generally poor, and eating in the Italian countryside was often a disgusting experience.
- Early mentions of iconic foods are often surprising.
In the 1350s, in his great cycle of short stories, the Decameron, Boccaccio makes the earliest mention of Parmigiano.
The first mention of Neapolitan pizza was a rich pie whose marzipan crust was filled with mashed almonds, pine nuts, dates, figs, raisins and biscuits.
The first ever tomato-sauce recipe in Italy appeared in a cookbook called The Modern Steward, published in Naples in 1692. In fact, it was not until 1844 that vermicelli con salsa di pomodoro appeared in a Neapolitan cookbook.
By the middle of the eighteenth century, Naples had firmly established its reputation as Italy’s maccheroni capital. It was in Naples that pasta first became what it is now – a dish of the people, the crowning glory of the everyday Italian diet.
-The word ‘pizzeria’ is not recorded in an Italian dictionary until 1918. It was not until the 1960s and 1970s that most of the rest of Italy found pizza not only digestible, but delicious.
- Onions are still used relatively sparingly in Italy.
there is no Italian equivalent of soupe à lâ oignon or, indeed, of the huge quantities of onion that the British and Americans tend to like in their pasta sauces and atop their pizzas.
- The French influence is significant.
Absolutist France offered a political model to monarchies across Europe; all Italy could offer was a parable of political decline. In any contest for prestige between the two food civilisations, there was only one possible victor.
It was not until more than forty years after unification that the menus for court occasions would start to be written in Italian.
- Regionalism and authenticity are complex ideas.
Many regions didn’t have a “Mediterranean diet”. Offal and other inferior meats are still central to typical cooking in Rome today.
In most of Italy, there is nothing traditional about eating rocket, balsamic vinegar and buffalo-milk mozzarella. Yet these foods became national crazes in the 1980s and 1990s by selling themselves as authentic products, hallowed by the ages.
- Local food lovers have retreated into an orthodoxy when faced with the threat of cheap, industrialised versions of their typical local dishes.
No other country can boast as many DOPs and IGPs, for Europe’s move towards quality produce aimed at élite consumers is particularly well suited to Italy’s highly diverse and specialised agriculture.
- All food, ultimately, is fusion food.
Ultimately, the book demonstrates that Italian culinary culture would be unrecognisable without centuries of exchange with the Arab world, the Americas, France, and internal migrations within Italy itself.

[Patrick Townshend · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting account of the history of Italian food, I found the chapter on the conclave and the later one on futurism particularly interesting.

However, I feel like some topics needed further development. Dickie often alludes to how the recipes and culinary practices from the ancient world were reflected in the cities he analyses. Does this not deserve chapter(s) of its own? I would have loved to know more about this. I also felt like not enough attention was given to the incorporations of ingredients from the New World (tomatoes, potatoes, bell peppers) as they now play a key role in Italian cuisine.

My biggest gripe with this book is the structure Dickie uses to tell the history of Italian food, or as he says: 'The history of Italy through its food'. He argues that the 'Italian' food developed in the cities, and thus divides the book along chapters that analyse a particular event/process in an Italy city at a certain time (e.g. 'Ferrara, 1529'). This structure makes sense during periods in Italian history where cities had little interaction compared to nowadays. However, once Dickie's narrative enters the Risorgimento, his city-structure makes a little less sense as recipes and ingredients quickly made their way around the peninsula. For example, Chapter 18, named 'Bologna, 1974', begins with a quick story about the city but then spends most of its time analysing the pasta brand 'Rana', founded in 1962 in the Veneto and then expanding all over the peninsula to become the household name it is today. After the first three pages of the chapter, Bologna is no longer mentioned.

I would recommend this book to anyone interested in Italian cuisine. I would not however recommend it to anyone interested in reading a new perspective on Italian history, as this book offers nothing that many other books have not already written.

[Sebastian · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dickie, John, Delizia! The Epic History of the Italians and their Food (Sceptre: 2007). Boeiend historisch vertoog over de ontwikkeling van de Italiaanse gastronomie in zijn maatschappelijke en historische context. Dickie ontzenuwt de mythe dat de Italiaanse keuken van oudsher een plattelandskeuken is. De Italiaanse gastronomie is juist onverbrekelijk verbonden met die van de steden en veel "tradities" gaan geen "eeuwen terug". Bovendien valt tot diep in de negentiende eeuw nog nauwelijks van de "Italiaanse" keuken te spreken. De twintig hoofdstukken zijn gegroepeerd rondom een stad (al dekt de vlag de lading lang niet altijd) n bestrijken een bepaalde periode. Mooie hoofdstukken over de geheime kok van de paus (Bartolomeo Scappi), die de Italiaanse keuken bevrijdde van de kruiden en specerijen; over de maccheroni van de lazzarini van Napels; over Pellegrino Artusi, de auteur van de Italiaanse kookbijbel (1891); over eten en de Risorgimento; over de massale emigratie als vlucht voor honger en polenta; over eten en het fascisme. Ook de hoofdstukken over de naoorlogse periode, toen de Italianen eindelijk uit de greep van de honger raakten en de Italiaanse gastronomie werd opgenomen in de vaart van de maatschappelijke en vooral economische ontwikkeling, zijn zeer de moeite waard (met hoofdrollen voor Sophia Loren en Guiseppe Rana). Dickie is, tot slot, kritisch over de Slow Food-beweging van Carlo Petrini, vooral vanwege de vele interne tegenstellingen in de "filosofie" van de beweging en de antoglobalistische drijfveren. Cijfer: 8.

[Johnathan Sorce · Rating 5 out of 5]

A truly excellent overview of the history of Italy's "civilization of the table" - I would highly recommend this to anyone who is interested in food history, whether Italian or otherwise. One will quickly find out through reading Delizia! that most of our conception of authentic Italian cooking was not actually widely enjoyed in Italy or even really established until after WWII. Dickie does an excellent job of providing a view of Italian food history which is broad and representative but not exhaustive or overly minute in its scope. Dickie constructs his narrative by examining a succession of different time-periods through a different cookbook or primary source which was produced during that milieu. These case studies reveal not only different foods and methods of preparation which may often seen quite exotic or foreign, but also - and probably more significantly - crucial details about the Italian people and culture throughout the ages. His book thus also functions as an excellent overview of Italian history beginning in the medieval period.

[Kate Schwarz · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was a little concerned about this book that I bought months ago then dragged all the way to Italy so I could read it while on vacation. My dad pages through it and found funny bits that made me question the author’s research methods. For example: “A pope isn’t dead until he’s declared dead. And before he’s declared dead, he’s hit upon the head three times. If he does not cry out, his ring is taken from his finger and broken, and declared dead.”

This was the most random part of the entire book, but it was amusing, as were the other random parts. I read parts of it aloud to my dad and daughter as we traveled, especially about pesto from Genoa and the origin of the Margharita pizza, the diet under Mussolini and how Italian cuisine is finding its place in the world.

Overall, a pretty interesting book—about a place and food I really love.

[K Quilor · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very entertaining and informative book, easily 4.25/5 stars. Great narrative through line of the history of Italian food, disproving old myths but finding the kernels of truth within and all that. It's really interesting to learn just how... modern so many 'traditional classical mainstays' of what we see as Italian food really is, how some things really only got truly codified in the last century, century and a half.

I do feel like the author is a little too sympathetic to some of the more snobbish trends in Italian food culture (including by denying that they are snobbish), which bugged me somewhat, but overall, a truly excellent work.

[Marinke · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wat een fantastisch boek. Wie van Italië en van koken (en eten en drinken ☺️) houdt: lees het! Goed geschreven met behulp van prachtige bronnen. Je krijgt een heel stuk geschiedenis mee vanaf de middeleeuwen tot aan de huidige tijd, maar dan doorspekt met sprekende anekdotes en beschrijvingen van menu’s, recepten, ingrediënten en nog veel meer. Ik heb nieuwe inzichten gekregen in (het ontstaan van) de Italiaanse eetcultuur. Het is niet zoals je denkt...super interessant!

[Mindy Burroughs · Rating 5 out of 5]

I learned SO MUCH! reading this book. And it was so fun to read. It is a fantastic example of food history writing and why it is so magical. My favorite things that I learned include but are not limited to: pesto didn’t originally have nuts in it, spaghetti and meatballs is SO SUPER Italian-American, bolognese isn’t bolognese without mortadella, otherwise it’s just sparkling porky meat sauce, and tortellini is to Italians what chicken nuggies are to Americans.

Highly recommend.

[Linda · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was an interesting book for the most part but some of the subjects the author covered (especially the Slow Food Movement in the last chapter) were just not very appealing. They didn’t seem to fit into some of the more engaging topics which started with medieval Italian food and continued until the present.