Many of my posts here are about the oddities I find living in Italy as an American, but the reverse holds true as well. Having spent so much time in Italy, when I come back to the states, there are things that are normal to Americans, but rub me the wrong way because of my time in Italy. One of these that really gets to me is how we describe food in the states.

Italian culture truly does revolve around food. It is so important, that an Italian company really can’t get away with slick marketing terms that are misleading. That is, if something is marketed as “fresh”, it damn well better have come from the farm 15 minutes ago. But in the states, all of these terms to describe food have become meaningless. So here is my list of terms I find to describe food in the states that make me say “Are you freaking kidding me???”

Fresh
How many times have you been in a restaurant that advertises “The Freshest Ingredients”? Really? Are you treating me like I was born yesterday? I mean, everyone does it, from chain restaurants to fast food establishments. That tomato that you advertised as “Fresh” likely came from a greenhouse on another continent weeks ago. Spare me.

Home Made
How many restaurants offer home-made pie? Home made meatloaf, home made just-about-everything? So, did your chef make this at his house this morning and bring it to work? Why on earth do we respond to this?

Artisan
So I walk into some fast food restaurant and see an “Artisan” sandwich advertised. ARTISAN? To begin with, How on earth does ARTISAN apply to food? Do they have some little old man in the back with a lifetime of experience sculpting the ingredients into a work of art? I mean, fast food assembly line sandwich shops advertise “artisan” food. Please!

Hand-Crafted
Put this up there with artisan. What is “Hand Crafted Roast Beef”, anyway? How do you hand-craft that? And if you do, do chain restaurants really do it? I think not, so why use the term and treat your customers like idiots?

Hand-Cut
Again, like Hand-crafted, and used ad nauseum. So the meat in your sandwich is hand cut. Does that make it better? Really? Do you honestly hand-cut it?

Pan-Fried
I see this on menus all the time, like Pan-Fried Salmon. I have just one question: How else would you fry the salmon? In a pressure cooker? In an oven? In the sink? I don’t get it.

Cooked to Perfection
How many times do you see a description on a menu that tells us the food is cooked to perfection? How else are they supposed to cook it otherwise?

100% Real
This fist struck me on a pizza box from Papa John’s. 100% Real Cheese? Are they telling me that other Pizza uses fake cheese? That may be so, and great that theirs is real… but what is the other pizza made of? How sad is it that we have to wonder if our cheese is actually cheese!

Real Fruit Flavor
I love seeing this on juice drinks. So which it? Real Fruit? Or Real Flavor? Are you telling me that the flavor is that of REAL fruit, but it is fake? Am I supposed to get excited that it doesn’t TASTE like artificial fruit, even though it really is artificial? Or are you trying to pull one over on me, thinking I will believe you are selling me real fruit, when in fact only the flavor is supposed to taste real? Huh??? Argh!!

Natural Cut
Hello Wendy’s! Are you trying to tell me that your “Natural Cut Fries” are naturally cut? Or that the fries are natural, and you cut them?  Perhaps they are natural fries that you cut naturally? Because a quick google search will show anyone that there is very little natural about Wendy’s natural cut fries.

OK, I’m done with my rant… for now.

In our business, we meet people from all over the world. Small World stories can be expected from time to time. You know, “Hey! That person is my neighbor”, or “We went to the same school”, or “we have friends in common”. It just happens. But every once in a while, one of these things comes up that truly boggles the mind.

How on earth do I begin setting the stage for this one, anyway?

A few weeks ago, we had a reunion in New Orleans with some past guests that had been on one of our tours in Italy. One day, we put together a crawfish boil, and we put a bunch of other past guests together that lived in the area. In all, we were about 20 people, that represented 5 separate tours of ours in Soriano. Everyone bonded, and it was amazing. That was that.

The following day, I happen to notice a person that had “Liked” our Facebook page. It wasn’t a name I recognized, which is absolutely normal. But it also showed that the person had two friends in common with me. Also not strange. It was WHO we had in common that made me scratch my head.

Her name was Anne. Our common friends were “Kirby” and “Cissy”.

How I know Cissy:

In 2011, someone named “Connie” came on one of our tours in Soriano. We became friends, and later in 2011, Paola and I visited New Orleans, and went to visit Connie. We had a big dinner at a gas station turned restaurant in the middle of nowhere in Convent, LA called “Hymel’s”. While at that dinner, we also met “Cissy”, “Dennis”, “Scott”, “Rhett” and “Glynn”. The restaurant belongs to someone named “Joanne”

Dennis and Cissy are close family friends of Connie. booked a trip with us in Soriano, and came in May 2012.

Scott, who is Connie’s cousin, also booked with Glynn, Rhett and Vince. They came on a Soriano tour in September 2012.

How I know Kirby:

Kirby is my niece. What more can I say? Born and raised in Los Angeles. I can’t even imagine if she has ever even been to Louisiana, let alone this tiny little middle of the nowhere place! I’ll say now that Kirby is married to “David”, who I know is originally from Texas. Still, how on earth can Kirby and Cissy have a common friend on Facebook?

So I had to send “Anne” a message and ask how this connection existed. She wrote back, telling me that David is her son. She continued that she had grown up down the street from Cissy in Texas. When she saw photos of Cissy at the reunion, she wondered if it may have been the same place David and Kirby had been the same year.

In fact, David and Kirby came on one of our tours in Soriano, TWO MONTHS after Dennis and Cissy. It also turns out that I met Anne at David and Kirby’s wedding.

I explained to her that I knew Cissy from the year before when we had been visiting other past guests in Convent, Louisiana.

She replied, asking me who those guests were, and mentioned that she was friend’s with Joanne, telling me what a great restaurant it was.

I explained that the restaurant from the year before was Joanne’s place… and that the reunion we had done the night before was at her house. I also explained that the past guest in question was Connie.

So it turns out that she knows all of Connie’s family, as well.

Time goes by, and we have another reunion just yesterday, but this time it is in Florida. Scott, Glynn, Rhett and Henry are at THAT reunion. So we got to talking, and I told the whole story. Scott contacts his mother, and it turns out that Scott’s mother ALSO grew up on the same street as Anne and Cissy!

So of course, I contacted Anne and let her know. It also happens that we have yet another reunion happening next month, only this time it is in Texas. So I invited Anne. After all, we have got to get together and laugh about all of this, right?

She responds not only that she will be there, but David and Kirby will be in Texas visiting that day as well!

OK, long, complicated, and all… but I just had to share this small world story!

I’m a big fan of recycling, and I was really happy to hear that our town, Soriano nel Cimino, was planning on implementing a recycling program.  Better yet, it would include garbage pick-up. Cool!  The fact is, that much of Italy is full of litter, many towns have garbage bins that overflow, and the concept of responsible dissposal isn’t quite what I am accustomed to.  So this is fantastic, right?  Ummm… not so much.

There is a popular joke that compares the strengths and weaknesses of various European societies.  It goes like this:

Heaven is where the police are British, the chefs Italian, the mechanics German, the lovers French, and it’s all organized by the Swiss.

Hell is where the police are German, the chefs are British, the mechanics French, the lovers Swiss, and it’s all organized by the Italians.

If you are really familiar with these societies, this is quite funny.  The point here is that Italians are famous for being extremely disorganized, and that little problem often causes good ideas to turn into incredibly complicated nightmares.  The complexities cause people to ignore policy, and that causes the government to couple new programs with stiff non-compliance penalties.  So you end up with a bunch of complicated, impossible to understand or follow laws that have insane fines for non-compliance.  Such is my fear for our new recycling program that starts tomorrow.

The Way It Is Today

Before I get into the disaster that begins tomorrow, let me tell you how it is now.  There is no garbage pickup service. There are public bins all over town.  Residents generally keep a tiny trash can in their homes, and take the trash out daily.  This is good, since Italian homes are generally very small, so they don’t have room for large trashcans.  Some of the public locations have several bins, including various recycling containers.  It doesn’t matter much, because it is common that all bins get dumped in the same truck, anyway…  but we’ll not go there for now. The downside of this is obviously that some people have to walk a little to take their trash out, and the bins are unsightly… especially when they have not been emptied for days.

Soriano’s Recycling Extravaganza

Step right up and get a front-row ticket, ‘cuz this is gonna be the greatest show on earth! Tomorrow morning everything changes.  All public bins go the way of the Dodo.  Garbage pickup service begins.

Each home must now keep FIVE garbage cans in their home:

The standard can is for fruit, veggies, leftovers, coffee, tea bags, paper napkins and towels (only if dirty with water), etc.

Then you have a can with GREY bags that are provided by the city.  This is for most (but not all) plastic tableware, saran wrap, feminine pads, light bulbs, pens, cigarettes and lighters, rubber bands, feminine pads… I won’t do the whole list.

Next are the Light Blue bags, which are for other plastics that do not belong in the GREY bags. These include plastic bottles, Styrofoam, plastic bags, veggie and fruit nets…  again, I won’t go into the whole list, but be careful not to confuse plastic for the GREY bags with plastic for the Light Blue bags.  That would be non-compliance.  See below for the penalty!

Then we have the Green Bin, which is for cans, glass, lids (what kind?), and foil.

Finally, we have the Yellow Bin. This is for papers, newspaper, magazines, milk cartons, etc.  Be careful not to throw paper towels or napkins in here!!!  Those are for the Standard Can.

No Need To Remember All Of This.  We Have Labels!

Law requires all products to have a label that will assist you, so if you are not sure if a paper towel should be thrown in Grey Bag or the Blue Bag, just go back to the packaging of the paper towels (you still have it, right?) and see which of the above symbols it has.  Then compare that symbol with the bins and bags you have, and you are all set.  Don’t forget to do this for every little item you throw away, because a mistake is punishable by law.

Don’t Get Your Days and Times Mixed Up

Now they won’t have an army of trucks running around each day.  Instead, there is a pickup day for each bag or bin.  We will have pickup service five days a week, and each day has a corresponding bag.  Be sure not to put your blue bag out on green day, or your yellow bag on grey day.  These are serious offenses, of course.  But wait!  That’s not all!  You are allowed to put your bags and bins out between 10:00 PM and 4:00 AM.  Not before, not after.  If you have any plans of going to bed early tomorrow night, forget about it.

Unresolved Questions

There are more questions, of course.  So Paola made a call to the City Hall office that deals with these things.  The city will provide us with a certain number of bags.  Will they provide them regularly?  We don’t know.  What if we need more?  We don’t know. Are they rationed?  We don’t know. What if my bin is lost or stolen?  We don’t know.

The Old Lady and the Storm

Soriano is a hill town.  Tiny streets, winding curves, cobblestones and lots of hills.  I can imagine a winter storm (often) that would wash these bins all down the hills.  They will be everywhere.  They will be thrown together… it will be a mess.  The hills are filled with elderly women that have lived there for ages.  How will they find their bins?  We don’t know. How will this be dealt with?  We don’t know.

Penalty of Non-Compliance

Ok, I saved it for the end.  It is all so much more complicated than what I am saying here.  And Italians are great at ignoring laws, so you must strike fear in their hearts.  Should you elect not to comply with the above, you are to be fined €500.00.  That is roughly $700.00.

Is it just me, or is a disaster in the making?

When you split your life between two cultures with two languages, it is quite easy to get trapped in the wrong language from time to time.  I sometimes find myself speaking one language, then suddenly a word or phrase pops out from the other.  I don’t realize it until the person I am speaking with gets that glazed look in their eyes.  It is as though they are suddenly thinking “Did Michael just invent a word?”  ”Is he trying to be cool, throwing Euroslang into his speech?”  ”and why on earth does he keep throwing his arms around as he speaks?”

No… I don’t even realize I am doing it.  Until I see that look, and I get a little embarrassed.  The thing is, that when you are fluent enough in two languages and sufficiently integrated in multiple cultures, certain concepts are better expressed in one language than another.  You don’t actually think about what language you are speaking… you just speak.  So when I have a thought, the easiest way to express that thought is what immediately pops into my head sometimes.  There may be one word in a language that takes a complete sentence to express in another…. so something inside says “This can only be said this way”, and it just pops out.

This is my tribute to a few of these words and phrases between Italian and English.  There are so many more than aren’t coming to mind right now, so if you have others, please leave a comment and let me know!

Boh!?

Boh!?  (Bo)

This may be my favorite word in Italian, which is why it made it into the title of this article. I use this ALL THE TIME in English.  I just cannot help it!  It means “I don’t know”, but being just one little single-syllable, 3 letter word, makes it so utterly perfect.  It is as though being so short and simple, it carries a more definite meaning.  Like “I don’t know, and what kind of idiot are you that you might think I would?”

Cornuto  (Cor-Noo-Toe)

Bob is a Cornuto.  Literal translation:  Bob is horned.  Huh?  Well, what it actually means is “Bob’s wife/girlfriend/significant other is cheating on him”… all in one word: CORNUTO.  Having horns simply means that you are being cheated on, and it can be used several ways.  ”Poor Susan has horns” (She is being cheated on), “John put horns on Jane” (John is cheating on Jane).  It is also used (primarily in the south) as an offense  Cornuto!  As to say “You Cornuto, You!”.  And when you get waaay south, well… Them’s Fightin’ Words!

Uffa (ooh-fah)

I love this word, because I’m really not sure how to translate it into an English word at all!  Imagine you are bored to the point of frustration.  You know that full-exhale-sigh you make?  Maybe you finish it off saying ‘Blah’.  That entire expression can be summed up by the word ‘Uffa’, and if you really deliver the f’s in the middle (uffffffa), you are amping up how strong the feeling is.

Che Palle (Kay-Pall-Ay)

This literally translates to “What Balls”, but the meaning depends entirely on the context, such that these two little words cover quite a bit.

I’m bored: Che Palle!
You are starting to annoy me:  Che Palle!
This is redundant:  Che Palle!
This is bothering me:  Che Palle!
My fingers are starting to hurt while writing this: Che Palle!
Paola is calling me to come downstairs and do something while I am writing this: Che Palle!  :-)

It isn’t considered very nice, but not quite profane.  I would put it on par with using a word like “Damn”.  So, there is a light version of it:  Che Pizza!

Porca Troia!

Porca Miseria (Porca Mee-Sare-Eee-Ah)

For some reason, Italians seem to have some major issues with pigs that might be worth exploring with a collective national psychologist.  They have a full range of exclamations about pigs, and they range from light-hearted to stuff I should not write here.  Yes, we have the classic “You are a Pig” in English, which is to say that you are messy.  But Italians elevate the pig to near demonic status.

Porca Miseria literally translates to “Misery is a Pig”.  It is a very generic exclamation.

I lost my job, porca miseria!
I stubbed my toe, porca miseria!
I forgot to make that reservation, porca miseria!

What makes the pig so fun, is that you can modify the strength of your exclamation by changing the status of that which you are associating with the pig.  For example:

Porca Puttana! ( A Whore is a Pig ) is much stronger than Misery.
Porca Puttanaccia! ( A BAD Whore is a Pig ) is even stronger.

The whole whore thing is quite popular too!  You can use all sorts of words to say whore:  Puttana, Mignotta, Troia, etc.  All work well with “Porca”!

You can get REALLY strong and vulgar by associating the pig with God and the Virgin Mary ( Dio and Madonna ), but that is a major no-no!  However, even they get lightened up to “Porco Due” and “Porca Madosca”… More or less how we go from God to Gosh and Damn to Darn.

The point is, that while these all do translate into something English, I can’t quite explain why, but it is somehow more powerful than the english counterparts, such that I find myself using Porca Miseria all the time, even in English.

Che Fico!  (Kay Fee-Co)

Ok, this simply translates to ‘Cool’, so while it doesn’t really fit into this article, I couldn’t resist.  Why, you ask?  Because the literal translation is What a Fig!.  Can’t you just picture your friend walking up to your brand new car and saying What a fig ?  Ok, I’ll move on…

Ti Voglio Bene ( Tee-Vol-Yo Beh-Nay ) & Ti Amo (Tee-Amo)

They both mean I love you, but the Italian language has different ways of expressing love for your mother, for example, from love for your spouse. Ti Amo literally translates to “I love you”, but if you say it to your mom, well.. Ewww!  That’s sick!!!  That would be getting into Norman Bates territory.   On the other hand, Ti Voglio Bene is properly suited for mom.  It literally translates to “I wish you well”, which I know sounds an extremely weak and borderline insensitive statement for mom, but Ti Amo is reserved exclusively for very serious romantic love, period.  So you will wish well for mom, dad, brothers, sisters, kids, close friends, etc.  You will also wish well for a boyfriend/girlfriend that isn’t nearing the “pop The Question” stage.

Best put, I would say Ti Voglio Bene is like “I Love You”, and Ti Amo is like “I am IN love with you”.

Gattara (Gat-Tara)

Here is one that really isn’t in my vocabulary, but as I stumbled upon it, I couldn’t stop laughing.  You know the stereotype woman that lives alone with cats?  Yeah, you got it… She is a “Gattara”.

The English Language Gets Back with the verb TO GET

Seriously, there are countless words that don’t translate well from Italian to English, and from English into Italian.  Just ask any Italian that speaks English how they felt when they first learned the verb “To Get”.  Better yet, try it yourself!  Try to define every meaning of To Get that you can think of in 5 minutes.  While you do that, I’ll get to the end of this, since it is getting long and I need to get out of here.  If you don’t get what I am saying it, get a life and get over it.  Get it?

So any really interesting ones I missed?  let me know!

I haven’t gone on an Italy rant for a while, but with healthcare and taxes filling the US airwaves, it has really made me think about taxes in Italy. I’ll not get into my opinion of these subjects in the US, since this is not the place for it. I also don’t want anyone to see this as a point of comparison, be it to say ‘at least we are not that bad’ on one side, or ‘hey! look at the road we are going down’ on the other. It is merely a subject on my mind right now, and Italian Tax Lunacy is truly epic.

OK, the prerequisite disclaimers are now out of the way. Italy is a wonderful place. It is beautiful, the culture is amazing, the people are warm, and the lifestyle is enviable. You simply cannot have all of this good without some utter evil to balance it all out. That evil comes in several forms, the largest of which is a department of the government called FINANZA. They are Italy’s answer to the IRS, but they are not government workers in suits that sit down and go over your tax returns with your accountant. No, they are a police force, complete with squad cars, military-style uniforms, arms, and a mission to fight crime. Tax crime.

Guardia di Finanza - The Italian version of the IRS

Piove, Governo Ladro!

Strictly translated, this means “It’s raining, Government Thief”. What it really means is that the government takes so much from us, in so many ways, that they have even found a way to steal the sunshine. There is an epic battle of taxes between the government (represented by the Finanza) and the people in Italy, and they have been waging it longer than anyone can remember. Italians are notorious for tax evasion, and the Italian government is notorious for Draconian taxation. A citizen will tell you that they take so much, he is forced to cheat in order to put food on the table. The government will argue that so many citizens cheat on their taxes, that they are forced to take special measures in order to collect. Can you say viscous circle? I knew you could.

I Cheat, You Cheat, We All Cheat on Taxes

I’m an American. I pay my taxes. I hate it, but I do it. If i can get a deduction, I’m all for it, but the concept of cheating on my taxes just doesn’t exist. I’ve never met another American that boasted about how he cheats on his taxes. But in Italy, you run across people every single day that will shout it from the tower (figuratively, of course). For these people, it is a matter of pride. Success in cheating on one’s taxes is a badge of honor. HA! I got the government thief! In fact, some estimates show that only 50% of Italians pay any income taxes at all. and a large majority of the remainder grossly underfile. Now, before I get chastised by anyone that lives in Italy and does pay their taxes, let me be clear. This rule does not apply to everyone. I know people that follow the letter of the law as they understand it. The key phrase here is ‘as they understand it’, because if you ask 10 tax lawyers, you will get 10 answers as to what is and what is not legal or appropriate. All 10 are right, and all 10 are wrong. But one thing I have noticed is that those that try to stay legal are generally the ones that are just scraping by. Sad, but true.

The Amnesty Countdown

I always wondered how people don’t get caught. I mean, if I don’t pay my income taxes, sooner or later it has to catch up with me, right? So I asked around, and what it all really boiled down to was ‘Amnesty’. Apparently every so many years, the government has traditionally enacted an amnesty program for tax evaders. If you don’t pay your taxes, the government bureaucracy is so crippled and slow, that by the time they could ever really do anything to you, amnesty typically kicks in. I know people that have had 75% of all of their back taxes slashed with no penalty. They paid their reduced amount, then went on to not pay taxes again… until the next amnesty program. How must the people that actually try follow the law feel, when they realize that by following the rules, they got what amounts to a 75% penalty compared to the cheaters? I suppose it is similar to how I feel as someone that actually pays his mortgage these days, thus cannot qualify for ‘Loan Modification’.

There’s a Tax For That

So how bad are the taxes? I won’t bore you with marginal tax rates and calculations. Instead, I’ll list some of the taxes and policies that have made me scratch my head and say WTF over the years…

Television Tax

Italy has a few state-run television channels called RAI. They pay for it through something called the ‘Canone RAI’, which is essentially the RAI Televition tax. Your are required to pay it if you own a television, and it is calculated based on how many televisions you have. Even if you are in an area that gets no reception, and/or your pay for satellite television service… you MUST pay this tax. The penalty for not paying it? Well, if you don’t pay it, they may come and inspect your home. Pay or have your televisions sequestered. There is good news, however. The tax rate is lower if you only have a black and white television!

When I originally lived in Italy, there was also a radio tax for automobiles. The Finanza would set up roadside traffic checks to make sure you paid your registration fees. While stopping you, they would inspect your car, and if you had a radio, they would check that you paid the radio tax. I was actually cited for this once. This tax no longer exists.

Modem Tax

In the late 90′s when the Internet was gaining strength in Italy, the government saw a growing potential source of revenue among small Internet providers. They instituted a special tax on modems that essentially killed this business, leaving it almost solely to the quasi state run phone company.

Website Tax

A few years later they decided that there was not only a special tax for those with websites, but as a webmaster, you were required to save a copy of your website and submit it to the government… Each time it changed. Consider our own site: we would be required to submit a new CD right now…. and another now… Oops, our dynamic site changes by the second so we need to submit it again now.

IVA

The IVA is the Italian sales tax, or VAT (Value Added Tax).  It is a flat 20% for all purchases, and is paid at all levels from manufacturing all the way down to consumer.  It is then refundable at each level until a product or service reaches the consumer, making for some very complicated paperwork and bureaucracy, of course.  The only exception to the 20% is a reduced 10% and 4% rate on what is considered to be ‘essentials’.  Before the formation of the EU, Italy’s IVA was somewhat more complicated.  The base rate was 19%, but there was a special 38% tax rate for ‘Luxury Goods’.  What was considered a luxury?  Any car that and an engine of more than 2,000cc was a luxury,  Your home stereo was a luxury, etc.  The reduced rate for essentials like food and clothing was 4% as it is now, but the one thing that always puzzled me was that shoes were not categorized as ‘essentials’!

Income Tax

Income tax in Italy ranges between 23% and 43%, which may not seem so bad until you have to actually pay them and learn that Italians don’t enjoy the ability to apply tax deductions anything like what you may be accustomed to.  In addition to that is a concept of minimum base income that I have never fully understood.  Perhaps someone will comment and clarify it for me? As it has been explained to me by several people, if you are self-employed, what you earn is not initially assumed based on what you declare.  Instead, it is based on what you have and what you do.  In other words, if I own a clothing store that is 100 square meters in size, there is an assumption that this type of store should make a certain amount of money.  I pay that, and if I didn’t make that much, it is my responsibility to prove that I didn’t and file for a refund after the fact.  In other words, you can potentially pay more in tax than you grossed.  Similarly, it has been explained that your base minimum income is assumed by your possessions. That is to say that if I own a home of 200 square meters, and I have a certain car, and I own a motorcycle…  I must make a certain amount of money to support that lifestyle, so that is the minimum I am taxed on.  So if your favorite aunt passes away and leaves you her home at the beach, a car, and a boat…. the government may see you as a very high income earner with a fleet of vehicles and a beach house for weekend getaways.

Get Your Scontrino.

The ‘scontrino’ is your receipt when you make a purchase at a store.  Back to tax enforcement, this is another process that has been relaxed, thankfully.  The Finanza is charged with not only making sure you pay your taxes, but also making sure you are equipped to do so.  This means that if you have a store, you must have an approved cash register that prints receipts in a certain way.  In addition, you are required by law to provide a receipt to every customer.  So far, so good, right?  But the customer is also required by law to obtain the receipt, and to take it with him as he leaves the store.  So until recently, you could walk into a store and buy a pack of gum.  Maybe you simply threw the receipt in the trash, or you left it as you exited.  As you left the store, you could have been approached by a Finanza officer who would ask you to show your receipt.  If you failed to produce it, they would detain you and bring you back to the store.  Once there, the clerk would have to prove they gave you a receipt.  If he couldn’t, he would get a large fine.  Either way, you would have been fined for not being able to produce it on demand.

This would get taken to the extreme.  For example, I knew an owner of a small grocery/deli.  One day he was hungry and made himself a sandwich.  As he was eating the sandwich, a Finanza officer entered his store and demanded to see the receipt for the sandwich he had just made for himself.  Naturally he was dumbfounded, and wound up paying a fine equivalent to $500.00.

Another time, my father-in-law was chatting with the same man in his store.  They were very close friends.  He had spent about an hour chatting, as they often did.  The man offered him a slice of pizza as they were talking, and when he left, he was still eating it.  My father-in-law was instantly approached by a Finanza officer who demanded a receipt for the pizza slice.  He explained that there was none as it was just a friendly gesture of kindness from a close friend, not a purchase.  The result:  They were both fined.  The store owner should have rung up the pizza slice, and placed the retail value in the register in order to offer it to his friend.

Not only could they charge the store, but the finanza could also perform an instant on-site audit.  They could actually walk into the store, close you down and say “Pull out your books”.

Would You Like a Fattura or a Ricevuta?

Since the taxes in Italy are so high and complicated, there is an underground economy.  When you make a large purchase, you will often find people quoting you TWO prices:  One ‘with fattura’, and one without.  The Fattura is essentially the fiscal invoice.  If you are given one, the income cannot be hidden.  If they don’t give you one, and you pay cash… well, let’s just say that they save a bundle.  What always amazes me is how out in the open this is.  It is just the way things are done, and isn’t hush hush at all.

Tax the tax with another tax, why don’t we?

I’ve touched on a few taxes and processes, but Italy is replete with taxes on just about everything.  I could go on forever talking about inheritance tax, gift tax, double-payroll tax, capital gains tax, and the notorious “Once in a While Tax“, but this is getting fairly long.

OK I’m Done

There is my rant.  I feel better now.  Actually, I must admit that for now, I am happy to be in a position to have our company incorporated in the US, such that the lion share of our taxes are based on US income.  FOR NOW, we don’t have a quasi-military strike force there to protect the world from evil would-be shopkeepers that rob the system by offering slices of pizza to their friends.

We use a ton of Italian words in English.  More than many might think.  Just walk into a Starbucks, and you will probably walk out with something called a ‘LATTE‘ (Be careful asking for it in Italy, since all you will get is milk), and if it was a large, you will have asked for ‘VENTI‘, and you may have a bag with some ‘PANINI‘ as well.
How many time have you said ‘CIAO‘, even though you may have thought it was spelled CHOW?
At the OPERA, might you you yell BRAVO?  OK, all pretty obvious, but the list is actually almost endless!  Magnifico, crescendo, alto, bello/bella, etc.

But how about Italian use of English? Actually, there have been English words used commonly in Italian for ages, but recently it has really picked up, to the point that some call it ANGLITALIANO.  The Italian answer to Spanglish or Chinglish.  There is even a group dedicated on erase it from use, most appropriately called The Dante Alighieri Society.

How many English words exist in Anglitaliano?  Who knows?  But I listed those I could think of, and did about 5 minutes of googlage to see what I could put together.  Have a look.  The words in GREEN are English words that would be commonly understood by many Italians that don’t think they speak a word of English!

OKAY, this WEEKEND I used my COMPUTER and MODEM to go ONLINE to TEST my WEBCAM and EMAIL on the INTERNET with my new ROUTER.  The SERVER SOFTWARE asked for a PASSWORD, then made me DOWNLOAD a FILE.  Perhaps I lack the KNOW-HOW.

Later, I listened to an ALBUM with MUSIC by a BOY BAND, then a CD with BLUES, HIP HOP, GRIND, CORE, some POP STAR, JAZZ and a HIT by a ROCK BAND, but there was a BLACK OUT. WOW!

So I took off my BLUE JEANS and wore a SMOKING. I looked COOL, so went to a SINGLES BAR in a HOTEL that was full of SEXY women and had a COCKTAIL with the MANAGER who called me MISTER. She was BEAUTIFUL, with great MAKEUP and an EXTRA-LARGE T-SHIRT.   She was truly a BEAUTY with a great NEW LOOK.  I saw my EX with her BOYFRIEND who clearly found a BABYSITTER that night..  They deserve their PRIVACY, so I said BYE BYE and went to a PARTY.  Sadly, everyone was a SNOB. I began to feel the STRESS. I had a DRINK, then left for a CLUB to see a BAND I am a FAN of that plays DARK music.  The PERFORMANCE was SOLD OUT.. every TICKET!

Fortunately, I had a VOUCHER, so the STAFF let me in. OH YEAH! After the SHOW, there was a SUPER DEEJAY that had clearly been DOPING, and is probably on WELFARE.

Later I was hungry, so I got on my SCOOTER and went to a PUB, but I couldn’t decide between a HOT DOG, SANDWICH or a HAMBURGER, so ended up having a SNACK of  CRACKERSwhile watching some SPORT on the TV, followed by a TALK SHOW, a FILM, and a REALITY SHOW.

The following day, I went to the gym to do some SPINNING, JOGGING (or FOOTING) and BODY BUILDING before playing some TENNIS. Later, I took a car with lots of SEX APPEAL and a big STICKER for a TEST DRIVE, but it broke down at the STOP, and smelled of GAS. Maybe it was all the SMOG?  So I had to take it to the GARAGE.  Finally, after a little SHOPPING, I had a PICNIC for lunch with my BUSINESS PARTNER who shared some GOSSIP and NEWS about a friend with a HANDICAP that became a KILLER by giving someone’s PACEMAKER a SHOCK.  I thought about it and simply replied: NO COMMENT. It’s not a SCOOP, and has nothing to do with our PARTNERSHIP.  All I wanted was a BRIEFING and possible BRAINSTORMING about a new LOCATION for our BOOK SHOP, as well as our BUDGET and new SLOGAN. You know, a MARKETING MEETING.

That night I went to a BED AND BREAKFAST that was really nothing more than a LOFT with a BIG OPEN SPACE, instead of a RESORT.  After all, that is the latest TREND.  I read a FICTION, and went to sleep. GOOD NIGHT!

So how many “Anglitaliano” words can be drummed up in a single blog post?  Who knows?  Maybe this one is the LEADER and breaks a RECORD?

Traveling to Italy, some visitors notice various oddities about Italian culture that seem to defy explanation.  Some are rooted in the socio-political history of the country, some are rooted in religious tradition, and others… the ones that are often the most seemingly nonsensical,  grew out of old wives tales.

One that has frustrated me for years is how Italians fear the dreaded ‘cold in your stomach’ and the almost-as-tragic ’draft’ (colpo d’aria).  It can kill you, and the causes are many.  Did he swim too soon after having eaten?  Did he have a cold beverage on a hot day?  Did she leave the house with wet hair?  Did he sleep in an air conditioned room?  All of these things are sufficient for most self-respecting Italians to shrug and utter the word ‘Beh’ while hearing your fate, signaling to all within earshot that everyone is in agreement:  Whatever happened to you, you were asking for it!

A Californian Might Cramp Up

When I was growing up in Los Angeles, our mothers loosely passed own a twenty minute rule.  It was the amount of time we must wait before jumping back in the ocean or pool after having eaten lunch.  They worried that we might get a cramp, which could actually be a big deal in the cold Pacific Ocean with its strong currents.  Some of my friends had no such rule, while others had as much as a one hour rule.  Whatever it was, it was never respected, and never enforced.

Is there any validity to the rule?  I really cannot say.  But I am a person who spent years of his life going to the beach practically every day.  I’ve never seen it.  Not once.  And if it is going to happen, the cold Pacific waters would be the perfect place. Keep in mind that I am not talking about someone getting pulled down in the cold current.  This is something completely different.

Sound The Alarm!  They Are Swimming At 2PM!

Italians have their own ‘when to swim after you eat’ rule, and they take is very seriously.  The general rule is 2 1/2 hours.  Let’s say that slowly: TWO-AND-ONE-HALF-HOURS.  Children are raised with this rule, not being told that they risk a little cramp.  No, they risk the killer of thousands.  The Cold In The Stomach. You can get it.. and you can die!   Mothers obey the law.  Fathers live by it, Doctors defend it, and lifeguards at the beach may actually defend you from it.

This may not seem like such a big deal, but think about it like this:  You take your family on a vacation to the beach. The kids are excited.  Each day you wake up at 8:00 AM.  You have a bite to eat at 9AM, and head to the beach.  The clock starts.  The kids had food, so they are trapped by the sand, looking at the water until 11:30AM.  Lunch is at 1:00PM, so you need to start heading back by 12:30PM.  You finish lunch by 2:00PM.  The clock starts again, meaning no water until 4:30 PM.  If the kids are lucky, mom and dad may give them another hour in the water.  If not, they may deem the air too cold for swimming by that time.  Fear of the cold in the stomach means that the kids only got 1 or 2 hours in the water.  But at least they are alive, right?

While my wife is Italian, she quickly learned of the deception she had grown up with after moving to the states.  Still, we always spent our summers in Italy.  One day at the beach, our child jumped in the water at about 2:00 PM.  Almost instantly, a lifeguard started running, as if to save her.  She cannot swim now.  It is too soon after lunch! Don’t you know she will catch the cold her her stomach?  Paola went on to say that she hadn’t had any lunch, but it didn’t matter.  It would seem that since the collective of Italy had just eaten, she could somehow catch the cold in her stomach by proxy.  We have seen it countless times.  If we are swimming at a time that doesn’t sync up correctly with cold-free times, people look at us as though we are from Mars.

Five Out of Five Doctors Agree

I’ve spoken with Italian doctors over and over, and they talk about all the medical evidence for the 2 1/2 hour rule.  In order to properly digest, we need X amount of time, and going into the water will cause the digestion to cease, thereby causing a — blah blah blah blah blah — you can die.  Each and every time I look at them and ask how it is that in my country of 300 million people, more than 20,000 kilometers of beaches, and over 10 million swimming pools, we have no such rule?  Are our doctors idiots?  Are we misdiagnosing thousands of people?  Was that jellyfish sting I got out at Zuma Beach really a symptom of the cold in my stomach?  Invariably they look at me in disbelief.  Somehow I must be misinformed, because this is a serious condition.

And Then It Hit Her… She Had Been Living a Lie

Wanna have some fun?  Take a visiting Italian to the beach, and don’t forget to bring a video camera.  Years ago we had an 18 year old girl named Catia visiting us from Italy.  One day we all went to Raging Waters, a water park just outside of Los Angeles.  We all spent the morning having a blast, and around 1:00 we had some sandwiches for lunch.  Our toddler daughter wolfed it down, and was chomping at the bit to get back in the water.  Paola and I did the same.  As we went back toward the water, we looked back and saw Catia holding back where we had been eating.  She said she didn’t feel like going back in.  We knew what was going on, of course.

We went on to explain that we had no such rule here, but she kept shaking her head in disbelief.  All the doctors say it, after all. Why would they if it were untrue?  Everyone knows this!  We finally gave up and said “Look at all of those people.  By this time, all of them have had something to eat.  Do you see anyone screaming in agony?  Do you see an ambulance anywhere?  We’re going back in the water, and if you want, you can stay here with your belief.”

We proceeded to go back into the water.  After about ten minutes we saw her edging closer and closer with a look of utter confusion on her face.  You could see her looking around, noticing that people were, in fact, not dropping like flies.  Finally she got to the edge of the water, and actually dipped her toe in, then quickly pulled back.  It was as though getting the toe wet would be the ultimate test.  She was still alive.  Then she walked in to her ankles.  Still alive.  Knees.  Still alive.  Waist deep.  Still alive.  By the time she was fully in the water, she had an expression that I’ll never forget.  She had been living a lie.  She went on to enjoy the rest of the day.

On the way home that evening, she was in absolute shock.  How was this possible?  When she went back to Italy, she told people. Naturally, people told her she had just been lucky to have survived that time, but I’m pretty sure she was now cured.

There Are Easier Ways To Get Killed By The Cold

I’ve been going on about swimming, but if you want, there are far more efficient ways to off yourself.

Beware of Ice

You will find while traveling in Italy, you will not get ice in your beverage, with few exceptions.  Nowadays, the ice in your drink rule has been relaxed, but you will still see it in more remote villages.  The belief is that, especially on a hot day, ice in your beverage will cause it to get too cold.  When the super-cooled liquid comes in contact with your warm stomach, you will have caught the cold in your stomach, as if you had been swimming after having eaten.  I have had people refuse to give me ice for this reason… out of concern for me!  What I have never been able to grasp is why the same person that would refuse me ice would happily serve me a Gelato (Ice Cream) or Granita (Essentially a Slurpee).  In some twisted reasoning, that is somehow different?

Cover Your Children

In a practice that I believe borders on child abuse, you will find that many Italian mothers believe that they must always dress their children in warm clothing, even in blistering summer heat.  Go to Rome on a 95 degree day, and you will see women pushing strollers with toddlers that are dressed for winter.  Their stomachs must be completely covered to protect them from the cold in the stomach, and the rest of their body (especially the neck) must be protected from the draft.  That same mother will then hop in the car and let her toddler roam free with no car seat, and no seat belt.  Perhaps all of the extra clothing will protect them in a crash?

Air Conditioning Fa Male

Now we are getting away from the cold in your stomach, and into the realm of the ‘draft’.  Air conditioning is gaining more and more popularity in Italy, but when we remodeled our house ten years ago, we were the first in our area to have it.  Growing up in Southern California, I never knew life without central air.  But when I first liven in Italy, it was prohibitively expensive.   People used to say that they didn’t have a/c because ‘fa male’, meaning it is bad for you.  Falling prices have made it popular, so it appears that they meant to say ‘it is bad for your wallet’.  Anyhow, Having air conditioning is one thing.  Using it… well, that is quite another thing.

Air conditioning produces cold air.  As long as you are moving around, apparently you are fine.  But at night, when you are laying still, you have a problem. The warmer the ambient temperature without the a/c, the worse the problem.  The cold air will come in contact with you (pray to God it is not your stomach!), and you will get the  ’colpo d’aria’.. the draft.  While not likely to kill you, you are certain to wake with temporary paralysis that can last days.  You will likely suffer from a bad case of Bronchitis, and life will be utterly miserable.  Is it worth it?

Some will argue that you risk a similar fate if you turn on a fan or open the window, so take such risks a fair amount of caution .  Now try to imagine living life in the hot summer with no a/c and closed windows! Doesn’t suffocation ‘fa male’ ?   In fact, you will find a very small selection of ceiling fans in Italy!

Wet Hair At The Beach: OK!  Wet Hair At Home: Beware!

I used to own a motorcycle in Italy.  I would wake up in the morning, get showered, get ready, and ride into town. My hair would still be a little wet, since I have always had short hair. People would look at me as though I had been skydiving with a hefty bag as a parachute.  That crazy American!  He’s certainly going to get himself sick or die from the draft with wet hair!  So i would ask:  What do you do when you are at the beach?  When you have been swimming, do you run somewhere to blow dry your hair?  How on earth do you survive otherwise?  The universal response:  Beh, that’s different.  How?

Updated 02/2010

Olive Garden is one of those places that really sets my blood to boil. Every time I hear the word ‘Hospitaliano’ I begin to cringe and twitch. When I hear them say ‘When you’re here, you’re family’, I can’t help but visualize the corporate offices of a chain with nearly 700 cookie-cutter restaurants. I’d just love to show up there one day waving my hands saying ‘Ciao!!! It’s cousin Michael’. I wonder what kind of Hospitaliano I will receive when I help myself (as family would) in their executive lunchroom at the corporate HQ. Better yet, after you leave an Olive Garden, how many people that work there know your name, let alone consider you family? Do we actually buy into this stuff?

I’ve Got Your Hospitaliano Right Here

OK, marketing marketing marketing. But now their commercials focus on their ‘Culinary Institute’ in Tuscany? They imply that their chefs all go there to learn how to make true Italian food with the freshest of ingredients. They learn from a local grandmother, then come back to their local Olive Garden and you get the benefit of their new-found talents. Yeah, Right! This is just over the top. Is Olive Garden actually trying to imply now that they serve authentic Italian food? Do they really want us to believe that it is the real thing? Fresh? We are talking about a Boil-a-meal-in-a-bag-then-serve chain here, people. Their recipes are at best ‘Italian Inspired’, but by no means Italian. It would be like having someone serve you a sausage and call it a hot dog.

Their latest commercial talked about how their chefs came back from Italy with their new recipe, ‘Chicken Crostina’ . Ummm… sorry folks, no such thing, and I can most certainly guarantee that the grandmother shown teaching the chefs in the commercial wouldn’t put an Olive Garden Chicken Crostina in her mouth to save her life, let alone teach anyone to make it.

A Dose of Reality

So what is this ‘Cooking Institute’ all about? I did a little research, and I put some two and two together. It appears that someone in corporate found an independent cooking school in Tuscany and made a deal with them. Olive Garden ranks all of their chefs and managers (as any corporation would), and the top 100 win a one-week trip to Italy the following year. It appears that they send 10 of their people at a time. It sounds like a great performance perk, and they are certainly getting a ton of marketing mileage out of it. However, I can pretty much guarantee that they come home and look at the food they make at their local Olive Garden and simply shake their heads, having finally experienced the real thing. In any case, they then go back to their ‘line chef’ system and feed you the same junk they always have. Sigh.

Are You Looking for Something AUTHENTIC?

Some have asked why my opinion is so strong on this subject.  Simply put, I own a cooking school in Italy that actually DOES create a family experience.  We actually DO teach authentic home-style Tuscan cooking, and our vacations are the stuff of dreams.  So since you probably arrived here while searching Google for information about Olive Garden’s cooking school, please do me one little favor:  Have a look at our website and check out what we are all about.  If you are really considering a cooking vacation in Italy, I think what we have will be EXACTLY what you are dreaming of.

Click here to see our cooking vacation pages.

Win a Trip to the Culinary Institute?

Hey, it’s a great promotion!  However, if you are hoping to learn the secrets of Chicken-Gnocchi-Alfrefo Soup or Deep Fried Lasagna Bites, it just isn’t going to happen.  I suspect that you will get a more authentic experience, and by the time you come home to Olive Garden, you will be squarely in my camp.

On a Final Note

Speaking of the grandmother… there is this promotional video.  Listen to what she says and you really need to ask yourself why the company that promotes this video doesn’t follow the advice

I was searching for Italian covers of popular International songs for the fun of it, and I couldn’t believe what I found. In the 60′s and early 70′s there was a huge trend for covers. Some are absolutely fantastic, while others are… well, they should have been left alone. I found everything from “I’m a Believer” to “California Dreamin”. From “Crimson and Clover to” “Sugar Sugar”, and from “House of the Rising Sun” to “Summer Lovin” from Grease! A few of them are even by the original artist! Look for Diana Ross singing in Italian, and well as David Bowie performing an Italian version of “Space Oddity”. So I created a playlist of everything I found on Youtube, and here it is. I hope you have as much fun as I did!

You know, there is a really, really good reason that you don’t see any Italian groups on the International rap scene.  What could that reason be, you may ask… just click above and remember that Italians make great food and wine, ok?

Oh yeah, and promise you will keep watching it at least until you see the Michael-Jackson-esque moonwalk. Trust me, it is worth the wait.