One of the most striking images of the first lockdown, which seems like a lifetime ago now, was the footage of Italians singing on their balconies. At that time, March 2020, that couldn’t happen here, I thought – the self isolating, the singing, and also the eerily silent streets.
I just couldn’t comprehend the idea that life could possibly stop.
Fast forward eighteen months and ‘Freedom Day’ arrived, but nothing had really changed, with the virus still prevalent, masks still needed to be worn, but I realised that one of the quiet changes which have taken place during that time was my love for all things Italian had actually grown over the last year and a half, in spite of my enforced absence from the place.
The Euro 2020 tournament ameliorated my affection for international football, and I embraced the podcasts, the beautiful kits, but most of all, one in particular. The country, as well as the bench and football team, because of the way they sang their anthems – akin to those quarantining last year – plus the style they played with (and dressed in) but also the footage of celebrations in Rome, Naples, Sicily and the joyous relief – in stark contrast not just to our own hooligans storming Wembley, but also those tuneful balconies back in March 2020.
ITALIA…. The food, the art, the drink, the lifestyle, the hand gestures, the coffee – I’m in love with it all – and most importantly, perhaps, the notion. Ma il cielo è sempre più blu is one of the most emotive songs they had sung, meaning the sky is getting bluer, and it is a joyous testament to the fact that for all our many differences, we are all in the same boat – now more than ever – and that life must go on.
It was disappointing that football didn’t actually come home, although the behaviour of fans at the stadium and online kind of justified that. Of course, I take some responsibility for the Azzurri victory, having worn my Trickett ‘lucky socks’ every time Italy played. They have cornicelli on, which are dotted around the house to ward off evil spirits. I’ve always loved Lorenzo Insigne, too, the diminutive Neapolitan who even has a style of shooting named after him, so asked my cousin in Florence to look for an Insigne shirt after one of his impressive performances. Many would see this as disrespectful and disloyal… I just think I identified more with ‘them’ than ‘us’, although admit I was equally proud that my kids got swept up in the three lions spirit, singing songs from my salad days and making St George’s flags and biscuits at a Nursery party.
I really hope they get to enjoy a national victory in the next few years, so we can experience it together.
I doubt it’s going to happen any time soon on the domestic scene, although I still had immense pride when E’s Nannie took these photos of him at Goodison – regardless of the alleged misdemeanours of one of our parish, which we won’t speculate on here – and as football becomes an integral part of his life, I only want to concentrate on the positive associations and none of the tribalism nonsense so many peers encourage.
Anyway, the end of another academic year (one unlike any other) gave the opportunity to reflect on the year past, and recognise that the sky is indeed getting bluer. Glorious sunshine and celebrations, the lovely Luca from Disney Pixar, culinary experiments the new found freedom offered… and then came Wales.
A year’s delay led to heightened anticipation and a wonderful week was enjoyed by all, whether on the beautiful sandy beaches of the Lynn Peninsula, the colourful Italianate village of Portmeirion or a nostalgia-filled (and wet) Welsh Mountain Zoo. Or even just in the hot tub spending precious time with family. I won’t go on too much, because I’m conscious many won’t have been able to get away this year and others will have lost family members, but I will say I felt very lucky that week.
One standout memory is the meal we had at the Dining Room, Abersoch. I’d originally read about the place at the start of last year, pre-pandemic, when I got my monthly Observer for the Food magazine which normally takes me another month to read. Knowing we had a week booked (initially for last July) somewhere nearby, I immediately took note of this place because of how good it sounded but also because of who was recommending it:
What an intimate place, like a firecracker all aglow, perfect for the double date we were to enjoy and an amazing evening’s dining. Obviously, meals out have been few and far between for everyone for a while, but it wouldn’t be hyperbolic to suggest this would be one of the best of living memory, and certainly the best value. We enjoyed the aperitifs immensely, then shared the torched mackerel and the pork cheek (swapping plates half way through) then doing the same with the mains: the cod, then the feather blade, a little nod to an Elite bistros classic. The wine and port were fantastic, too. My dessert was the real revelation, however… Caerphilly cheese and Bara brith from the deli next door (I went and bought a whole loaf to take home, as well as a hunk of the cheese but have been unable to source locally so any Welsh readers, feel free to send me some!)
Anyone venturing over to that part of the world, I’d suggest trying to get to this place ASAP. And, even if you’re not, follow the place on Twitter for some hilarious anecdotes about weird customers. Michael Owen even walked past again whilst we were eating, laughing and smiling on the outside but clearly seething on the inside, presumably envious of us eating so well through the window.
Next time – August, and ‘when you’re on the beach you steal the show’!
