Italian family life always centers around the dining room table.  It is the one place where the entire family gathers for extended, if heated discussions about life, and about living it.

When I was young (and living in Florida), Mamma would have a feast every Sunday.  Il Nonno and La Nonna (Grandma and Grandpa) would be there, and we learned about the hard times back in northern Italy before World War II.  “Believe-a you me Barry, I-a taught I was a gonna die…” Grandpa Delfino would always end his stories.

In this setting, we children learned to appreciate the value, the depth, and the wisdom that our elders brought to the table (pardon the expression).  We heard the stories such as how Mamma and family moved from Sarmede to Treviso in a horse cart, and it tipped over into the creek (They almost lost everything!).  Extended family, neighbors, and friends were always invited.

Sometimes at the table, papa would cry when there was no more money, and mamma would sing Italian love songs to cheer him up.  At the table, we learned that our parents were human too because we lived the tough times with them.  Our grandparents would ask about our day, offering their opinions of course about the decisions we had made that day, and telling us what they did as a child, back in Italy.

Mamma used to make a dish called Pork Toccio  and feed it to my older brother and I.  Of course we could not leave the table until we had finished our plates.  My brother despised this dish, and I would make awful looking faces when it was served.  After I finished my plate, my brother would pay me to eat his!  The secret was that I LOVED this dish, and still eat it today when Debbie makes it.  But I could get more money out of my brother if he thought I hated it too!  You see, my first lesson about business was also at the dinner table.

The average Italian child stays home until the age of 36, [read the article]  and I can understand why.  We have a deep family bond that ties us to home, and that bond revolves around the family discussions at the dinner table.  I do not feel at all deprived that my parents never dropped me off at soccer practice, little league games, or for other extra-curricular activities.  I feel very fortunate that I was able to truly know my parents, and my grandparents – all “a tavola”.