In the interests of research today, I went into Horsham for the 'Italian Piazza' event. It was billed as a chance to sample an authentic taste of Italy, so, full of excitement, I went along to see what I could learn.

Hmmmm...... after today, I can see this quest for knowledge is going to be quite thought-provoking, and teach me yet again, more about my own prejudices and misconceptions that anything else! I have just finished reading an excellent book by Beppe Severgnini, called "La Belle Figura", and the opening chapter talks alot about the difference between the Italy that British people seem to want to believe in, and the actual Italia that exists. When I first read that, I was a bit miffed to be honest, but today really opened my eyes to some substance behind that view!
Now I am not knocking the actual event itself today, which considering the bitter wind and torrential hailstorms, was a real testament simply to human endurance, whatever your nationality. However, it struck me that it was only selling a homogenised, pre-packaged sort of Italy, that maybe only exists in our minds. There were plenty of pretty packets of multi-coloured pasta, tied with green, white and red ribbon, novelty - shaped bottles of olive oiletc, (and somewhat obscurely for an Italian event, Sussex draught bitter?!) was all very neat, very tidy, very calm, everyone forming quiet orderly queues.... in fact very English, until you rounded the corner to the bread stall, but more of the delicious breadman later!!
I stood and watched for a little while, at the process of English people going about their shopping. I overheard one little interchange on the cheese stall; a customer was having trouble pronouncing some of the cheese names, and becoming quite flustered as the stallholder offered him samples to taste. In the end, the customer announced that he didn't like any of this 'foreign stuff', why wasn't there any cheddar anyway like in Sainsbury's - and walked off! I wasn't sure whether to be amused or horrified at such behaviour, but the stallholder seemed philosophical about it.
The more I watched, the more I was aware how hard the stallholders were working, not actually to make sales, but simply to get the customers to engage with what should be an enjoyable process of browsing, chatting and shopping. I heard some classic comments; one lady to a friend buying a little bottle of olive oil asking "What are you going to do with that?'; 'Well I thought it would look lovely on the kitchen windowsill' ....hello? Just an idea, but maybe cook with it??! Another lady commenting that she couldn't find a stall which sold English teabags..... I don't mean to suggest that everyone was being rude, and after all, they were there supporting the event, but it did occur to me to wonder what the Italians made of it. Were they surprised at our lack of imagination and passion?
Help was on hand however, in the form of the delicious breadman. Delicious I might add, mainly because of his zero tolerance of this English antipathy, not just because he winked at me and called me 'bella'! Non-engagement was just not an option. He paid no attention to the principles of customer queueing, selecting customers at random, pressing bread into their hands, chatting away amicably in a mixture of English and Italian, literally, physically stopping people in their tracks. The effect was interesting. Some people had a fit of the vapours at such an intrusion into their personal space, but others even began to smile and linger a little. I was pleased because I managed to speak some Italian, and get understood, and understand the reply, (we have been learning the names of foods in our 'Italian lessons" at home!); but the funniest thing was what happened at the stall next door. It sold nougat of every hue and taste combination, (including the above-mentioned rice crispie version), and was run by two English people. Wham! Instantly back into English queue and silent mode. How funny.

Going round the shops later, I did a quick, very unscientific poll of the elusive myth of Italy that is used to sell products in England. Ladies Italian tights featured photographs of dark-haired beauties lounging around seductively, (the English ones by the same maker didn't even have a photograph!), bottles of olive oil featuring beautiful horizons and the promise of endless sunshine, (no wonder half of Britain has been to Tuscany!), Italian coffee promising 'dark passion', with moody black and white pictures of Venice..... I suppose the deeper question I'm asking, is what's the real nature of Italy, of being Italian, that's behind this image.
In case you're interested; I came home with some lovely pecorino cheese, wrapped in special souvenir paper depicting scenes of rural Italy - yes you've guessed; olive groves, beautiful old farmhouses, and endless sunny skies! Shame it didn't have the breadman's number scribbled on it.......