
We made our way down the hall of an empty schoolhouse, shouts of Italian, then laughter followed by more shouting echoed through the hall. The men on the other side of the wall were either about to rip each other’s throats out or in middle of the funniest story ever told. My Italian is no good so it could have been either.

Inside the room were three long tables in the shape of a ‘U’ each table dressed with a different cloth — red, white and green — like the Italian flag. After a brief introduction from our host, “something, something, something ‘Americanos’ something, something” we were greeted with a rousing ‘Ay’ and plastic cups filled with wine hoisted in the air. The average age in the room was 50+ and it turns out all the shouting was over who among them was the worst soccer player.
On our final night in Italy, where we received training in the culinary art of sous vide, we had been invited to be a part of this group’s long-standing tradition. Once a week, they get together after work. If the weather is good they might play a game of soccer, but the evening is really about the meal together. They meet at the same school they all attended as children, prepare the food in the school’s kitchen and set their patriotic tables in the adjacent classroom. More…