Add a Seat to the Table

Last Wednesday, an Italian family welcomed me into their home for a home cooked meal.  I have been invited to plenty of houses for dinner in prior years.  The difference with prior invites, however, is that I knew the people asking me into their home.  I could somewhat anticipate the event.  I always knew, for instance, that my good friend, Ashley, would have her mother make us soft-shell tacos, because they are our favorite dish.  I always know that I will talk about school when I eat with grandmother, and that I will discuss music and politics with my brother.  But I had little expectation with my Italian dinner-date.  I had never met the family, nor had any idea if they spoke a word of the English language.

Luckily, the language wasn't much of a barrier.  Carolina, the 17-year-old daughter of the d'Aloja family, introduced me to herself and her father on campus last Wednesday.  Turns out, Carolina is a reversed verion of me.  She is an Italian student at Instituto Phillipine, but had studied abroad last semester in Rhode Island.  She speaks English fabulously.  Actually, her whole family is rather fluent, maybe from traveling between Europe and the US regularly.  Carolina has a 15-year-old sister, Angelica, who is absolutely beautiful and also attends school at Instituto Phillipine.  Their father has a career in the medical field; their mother owns her own pest control business.  The family lives happily in a nice neighborhood, under a roof with white walls, 1 dog, 3 cats, and a whole lot of artwork.

I can appreciate their love for art and animals.  In fact, their home actually reminded me a lot of my own home.  Not only does my mother adore animals, but she is also very fond of artwork.  Walking into my house in Iowa is like walking into a museum of random statues, paintings, and other home-made decor.  This home, too, felt a little like that.  Although the walls were white (much different from my mom's multi-colored painted walls), there were personal touches that gave it warmth and color.  Abstract paintings, which were created and given by a close friend, are planted around the entire home.  Their black-and-white family photos were unique, with them laying in the grass and their dog running in the background.  The lamp and lighting fixtures were modern and hung directly over the dining table.

I loved this candid family picture.

Angelica and her mother preparing our plates.

As one could imagine, dinner was another delight within itself.  To begin, we drank sparkling white wine (a fine wine that I haven't been able to afford abroad) and ate a variety of bruschetta.  The primi, or first course, was a dish of fresh linguini with raw salmon.  Probably - no, definitely, my favorite plate I've had in Italy.  Our secondi - the second course - consisted of two types of cooked potatoes and mixed pork/beef meat balls.  Definitely not something I was used to; nevertheless, I'm never shy in the name of food.  It was delicious.  And for dessert, we enjoyed lemon pound cake and apricot biscottis, the Italian cookie.

But it wasn't just the home-cooked meal, or the floral linen towels in the bathroom, that made me feel at home.  The family had an exceptional bond - a bond that I haven't noticed in many American families.  The parents held their cats, petting them in between bites of food at the table.  The girls were spoke openly, about school, relationships, experiences, interests, and so much more.  Conversation was not pre-planned like I've so many times witnessed at dinner events.  We shared our thoughts, our ideas, our lives in Italy.  They also pulled out some photo albums, showing me visuals and telling me stories of their adventures in the United States.

Carolina and her father took me back to my dorm around 10:30 that night.  They got out of their car to hug me goodbye and told me I was welcome to come back anytime.  I left them with a smile, thinking to myself, this is the first time I've felt home since living in Italy.  I've been overseas for three months, and just as things start to get warm and cozy, I know I must leave to go back to America in less than two weeks.  I hope to come back again someday.  And if I do, I hope to take the d'Aloja family's invitation for dinner.