If you’re reading this from Italy you will I’m sure have been enjoying the mild weather and blue skies this February has bestowed upon us so far. I for one have been trying to work outside a little more than usual, and have been pleased to stroll around my local neighbourhood without the weight of a heavy coat. There is, of course, a dark side to this glorious early spring. From north to south, Italy is now officially in a state of drought. In some parts of the country – in the North West – it hasn’t rained for 60 days; and water levels in the major lakes are at summer levels with Como and Garda now around 20% of what one would expect at this time of year. The knock-on effects of this could be serious. Everything from grapes to aubergines will most likely face a poor yield, while the possibility of flash frosts in early March, a capricious and regular occurrence here, could prove lethal for many species. Early-bloomed flowers will, sadly, be killed along with thousands of insects. On top of all this, air pollution is currently at dangerous levels across the industrial belt of the pianura padana while high winds and dry vegetation are also increasing the risk of wildfires which, while still mercifully rare during winter, are growing in frequency. The climate emergency isn’t something manifest in weather alone, of course, but the convergence of these potentially-catastrophic phenomena should surely prove a worry to even the staunchest negationist.
Sticking with the environmental emergency for a moment, Italians have been sharing a striking series of images on social media over the past few weeks which I thought it would be opportune to draw attention to here. The images in question are actually scientific maps showing what Italy will - apparently - look like in 2786 if global warming rates continue at roughly the pace they are currently. The authors, Telmo Pievani and Mauro Varotto, created the images in collaboration with Padova University’s Geography Museum as part of a project called Viaggio nell’Italia dell’Antropocene. It’s a curious bit of work that certainly captures one’s imagination. Naturally I jumped to the sections on Tuscany, and it seems, if their projections are correct, that future generations of Florentines may have to get used to living on a lagoon, while Livorno, Pisa, Lucca and Prato will be entirely underwater. The current drought may be a reminder of the short-term desertification facing Italy. But this longer perspective predicts that the North East is in fact on track to disappear entirely, with Bologna left behind as a coastal city! For the full picture, zoom in on their book’s cover [and scroll down for more detail].
Arts and culture: The Passenger
I’m a big fan of Alessandro Cassigoli and Casey Kauffman’s work. This directorial duo have worked together on some wonderful documentaries including The Things We Keep, a story about their long-distance friendship composed from a decade’s worth of video call footage, and Butterfly, a powerful biopic about a boxer in Campania. Their latest film Californie was released last week and according to the blurb it depicts “the five year trajectory of a young woman from Morocco who tries to fit into a small town near Naples […] her dreams, her disappointments and her loneliness.” Kauffman is based in Florence, so if you live here do keep your eyes on the programme at La Compagnia for a chance to hear him speak at a screening. Otherwise, the film is showing across the country in all good independent cinemas. For those reading internationally, meanwhile, or who don’t speak Italian, I highly recommend you bookmark The Things We Keep which is online with subs for free over at arte.tv. It’s a beautiful piece of work and it moved me to tears when I first watched it.
The folks at Europa Editions have just published the latest in their travel book series ‘The Passenger’, which is dedicated to gathering together serious essays about some of the world’s most intriguing cities (and, in some cases, countries or regions). This instalment focuses on Rome and it includes essays by an interesting range of authors including Matteo Tucci, on the river Tiber, Leonardo Bianchi, editor of VICE Italy news, on ‘revolutions in the suburbs’, Nadia Terranova on literary Rome, and Marco D’Eramo on the curious lack of entrepreneurialism that, for better and worse, so characterises Italy’s beleaguered capital. Pick up a copy if you’re Lazio-bound anytime soon or if, like me, you often find yourself dreaming your way through the romantic backstreets of the rapidly gentrifying Trastevere.
Recipe of the week: Pumpkin and ricotta gnocchi with black truffle
Making your usual potato gnocchi at home is a walk in the park. Boil the spuds, mix with a bit of flour and you’re done. It all comes together in 15 minutes. The second I’ve ever tried to add other things to the mix though, I’ve always stumbled. Chestnut flours, spinach, wild herbs… these unwieldy ingredients immediately alter the texture and usually for the worse. By now I’ve just about managed to master traditional Florentine gnudi, but I’ve had a fair few traumatic failures when experimenting beyond that. This week I’m going to dust off my proverbial apron and try out a recipe which sounds absolutely divine: pumpkin gnocchi with black truffle. I found this in Nino Zoccali’s Venetian Republic - a great book by the way - which traces the influence of that city’s cooking-style all the way through its ex imperial territories in Istria and Dalmatia to Corfu and Crete. Pumpkin is generally too sweet for my tastebuds, but the herbs and dairy and salt in this dish seem like a great way to balance it all out - at least on paper. So wish me luck, and if you’d like to give it a go yourself here’s the recipe.
About Me
My name is Jamie Mackay (@JacMackay) and I’m an author, editor and translator based in Florence. I’ve been writing about Italy for a decade for international media including The Guardian, The Economist, Frieze, and Art Review. I launched ‘The Week in Italy’ to share a more direct and regular overview of the debates and dilemmas, innovations and crises that sometimes pass under the radar of our overcrowded news feeds.
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