Old Values Wonders

An old Neapolitan proverb says, "Chi cagna 'a via vecchia p' 'a nova sape chello ca lassa e no chello ca trova!" - I am not entirely sure about the spelling, but then again, my Neapolitan is pathetic.. but the litteral translation is "Do not abandon the old ways for the new because you know what you leave behind, but you do not know what you may find". The concept is rather obvious: stick to what you know works 'cause its likely that your wacky creativity may be disastruous..and here behold: SPAGHETTI IN A TIN!


My father is a traditionalist. Although a rebel in hundred and many ways, he is the last of an extint (or on the way to extinction) species: the Italian Manly Man. If something is broken, he'll fix it (even if the "thing" is my mom with kidney stones..mmmm!), if there is a cause to be fought, he will be your William Wallace in Braveheart, your Robin Hood in Sherwood forest, your Ghandi in India - and, if you mess with his daughters, he will be your pain in the ass. Yes, Mr Morra is a real man of ideals and morals, especially when it comes to food. Food is, in my father's world, the essence of life. Whenever I go back home for Christmas (in the desperate attempt to have a 'lie in' or two in the mornings), dad wakes me up at 7am every morning without fail (even on new year's day!)with the mere purpose of asking me, "What would you like to eat tonight for dinner?"..
Food is the essence of life in my dad's world. Everything is scrupulously chosen,prepared in advance and passionately cooked with scientific rigour and exquisiteness worth of poetry. My father goes to the markets:in through the tiny narrow streets of Naples on his scooter in the endless search for the perfect ingredient. He always says that when times are tough you can save up on many things, but never bargain on the quality of your food. We are forced under any circumstances (even when sick!!!) to sit around the arranged table and eat together in an act of nearly religious devotion. And, for all of my talk, I wouldn't want it any different. In as much as I criticise my father's excessive fussiness with regards to food, I think he has got a point: having food is a blessing, and as such, it should be honoured; families are a gift, and as such, they should be nurtured; why settling down for tinned spaghetti when making them yourself is, inevitably more time consuming, but a great deal tastier, healthier and cheaper? I love my dad, despite the fights he is my hero. Hence I shall keep on fighting the fight for quality food alongside him! Viva la pappa col pomodoro!!!!