Piling plates high with carbohydrates and yelling, “mangia bene” was the closest thing to implementing my short-lived dream of speaking Italian. The course and CD series I spent a fortune on taught me several phrases I’ll never use like, mi genitori sono divorzati per due anni or po and piccolo. I’m positive I’ll never have to tell someone my parents have been divorced for two years, or describe the difference between small and little, but in case I do, I’m grateful I studied Italian.
In attempts to immerse myself into the language and culture of Italy, I began to learn the regional foods and fall in love with cooking. My Italian art history professor described how food is directly tied to the essence of all Italians. “Food is love and love is food,” she said over a bowl of pasta in Florence. Grabbing her glass of red wine and swirling it around in content satisfaction, she asked me in Italian if I was dating anyone one. Ancora no, profesora, I replied. Ancora no.
I don’t remember much Italian, but the simple phrase ancora no, is forever seared into my memory. I heard it many times on Roman roads, Florentine sidewalks, and Venetian canals. Ancora no, a woman would reply to a friend. Ancora no, a man would stearnly tell a pushy street vendor. Ancora no I would say in my head when asked if I had found a man. No, not yet. Ancora no.
She twirled her noodles around her fork and said, “When you learn how to cook, you will know how to love.” And with that sage advice, she continued to swirl her pasta and sip her wine.
I call this place the Land In Between. The Israelites left Egypt with the hope of reaching the Promise Land… but there was the land in between. The place of death. The place of pain. The place of joy. The place of promise. Yes, it was the land in between where they are and where they want to be.
I want to know what is your land in between. I want to know what you have to say acora no to. I want to know what your Promise Land is and where you are.
I’m working on the summer series and would really love to know if me and the exiled Israelites are the only ones asking, Are we there yet?! And in true biblical form, Moses would reply, Acora no, ancora no.
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