Just Because It Ends In A Vowel Doesn't
Make It Italian
There's an old saying in the South:
“Just because a cat has kittens in the oven don't make 'em
biscuits.” You can also apply that maxim to Italian food. Something
like “just because it ends in a vowel doesn't make it Italian.”
Not as pithy, I know, but still true.
Nobody can argue that Italian is among
the most popular cuisines on the planet. And justifiably so. Real,
authentic Italian food is fresh, natural, simple, seasonal, and
delicious. And because of its popularity, Italian is also one of the
most counterfeited cuisines on the planet.
It's all about marketing, my friend.
Everybody and his brother wants to jump on that Italian bandwagon to
make a quick buck. And though there's no evidence P.T Barnum ever
really said “there's a sucker born every minute,” the sentiment
is nonetheless accurate. Or to (mis)quote H.L. Mencken, “No one
ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American
public.”
See, ad men long ago figured out that
it's easy to make something sound Italian: all you have to do is add
a vowel to the end of almost any word and ecco! –
instant Italian! Go ahead, try it for yourself. It's a fun parlor
game even if it is insulting and denigrating to an entire culture.
It's also easy to completely make up “Italian” words. Just hang
together three syllables, accent the second syllable, and make sure
the last syllable ends in a vowel, preferably “a,” “i,” or
“o.” Ta-dah! Something “Italian” to stick on the label of
your cheap, inauthentic product. But who cares? As long as it sells
pizza or spaghetti, right?
Well,
it turns out somebody does care. While there's obviously a matter of
cultural pride involved, there's also a huge economic impact. Some
Italian politicians want to impose an all-out ban on the
“Italian-sounding” names used to give cheap frozen pizzas and
crappy packaged risottos an Italian image. Nicola Danti, MEP of the
Socialist and Democrat party, calls it “an odious and unfair
commercial practice,” and he's calling on the EU to take action
against blatantly misleading labeling. Danti goes on to note that
said practice “affects not only Italian agricultural producers and
the entire European agro-food sector, but also the credibility and
trust in all the products sold in the European Internal Market.”
Traditional Italian food products like Parmigiano-Reggiano,
Prosciutto di Parma, Aceto Balsamico di Modena, and a host of others
are staples of Italian agriculture and represent a substantial
portion of the nation's economy. According to the Italian food
industry federation, Federalimentare,
counterfeiters who make up Italian-sounding names for their cheap,
substandard products are picking the pockets of real Italian food
producers to the tune of nearly 18 billion euros annually in the US
market alone. Figures cited by Danti estimate the impact in the
global marketplace to be as high as 70 billion euros. In North
America, the disparity between fake “Italian-sounding” products
and genuine Italian food products is about 10:1.
Take,
for instance, the Freschetta pizza
line. Introduced by the Marshall, Minnesota-based Schwan Food Company
in 1996, the word “Freschetta” (pronounced “fresh-ET-uh”) is
an obvious Italian fake. There is no such word, term, or name in the
Italian language. The word is a made up construct designed to mimic
the authentic Italian word “bruschetta.”
But the madmen ad men who designed the word did not speak Italian.
Had they done so they would have known that “bruschetta”
is pronounced “broo-SKEHT-tah” and not “broo-SHET-uh.” Hence,
their product, in order to sound really Italian, should actually be
pronounced “freh-SKEHT-tah.” But the name is as fake as the
pizza.
Then
there are companies that take real Italian words or names and apply
them to fake Italian products. Like the “Violi” brand of olive
oil. What could be more authentically Italian than “Violi,”
right? I know because Violi is the surname of the Italian side of my
family. “I love this oil,” reads one glowing review. “I got it
at Walmart for seven dollars a bottle.” Uffa! The
biggest, boldest words on the label are “Violi” and “Extra
Virgin.” The fine print, however, tells you it's a “Mediterranean
Blend” that is eighty-five percent sunflower oil and only fifteen
percent olive oil. The most authentically Italian thing about it is
the brand name.
You've
got to admit “Prego” sounds Italian. And it is; “prego”
is the Italian word for “you're welcome.” What that has to do
with pasta sauce, I don't know, but I do know that “Prego” has no
Italian roots whatsoever. Back in the 1970s, Campbell's Soup was
looking for something to do with their tomatoes other than making
soup out of them, and so the “Prego” line was born. Competitor
Hunt's makes a pasta sauce, too. But they just call theirs “Hunt's
Pasta Sauce.” What's Italian about that? No wonder “Prego”
sells more.
Packaging plays a part, too. Dress up
any poor quality dreck in green, white, and red, slap an Italian flag
on it, call it something that ends in a vowel, and most people will
just snap it right up. They don't know the difference and, more
distressing, they don't care about
the difference as long as they can save a nickel. If it sounds
Italian, that's close enough.
Now, to be honest,
there is no such thing as an “authentic” frozen pizza. Nor are
there any “real Italian” prepackaged dinners on the market.
Anybody who buys anything frozen or prepackaged with an Italian name
on it thinking they're getting a real taste of Italy does not
understand the Italian concept of fresh, natural, seasonal, and
simple. All the vowel-ending words in the dictionary will not make
frozen lasagna taste anything like lasagne made with fresh
ingredients. And I'm sorry, but the Chef Boyardee Pepperoni Pizza Kit
they sell at Walmart is.........let's just say Ettore Boiardi is
probably spinning in his grave.
Buitoni
– maker of various prepackaged pasta dishes – sounds
really Italian. But the brand is
careful to say that its products are Italian “inspired.”
As the official PR story goes, “Guilia Buitoni opened her little
pasta shop in Sansepolcro, Italy in 1827; it was quickly a local
favourite. The tradition and popularity of Buitoni products
continues. Dedicated to using the highest quality ingredients to make
delicious pastas and sauces, the Buitoni brand is inspired by
traditional Italian cuisine.” Got it? A little Italian lady might
have started it, but now it's “inspired.” Buitoni
is currently owned by the Swiss-based Nestlé
company, which also, by the way, makes Alpo. Hey! “Alpo” ends in
a vowel. Does that make it Italian?
In
fact, there are a lot of “Italian” products on the market that
started out in Italian family kitchens. The aforementioned
“Chef Boyardee,” for example. Or “Ronzoni,” a pasta line that
goes back to young Emanuele Ronzoni, who emigrated from the small
fishing village of San Fruttuoso, Italy, back in 1881. Assunta
Cantisano left Italy from Naples in 1914, bound for America with a
recipe for the sauce that eventually evolved into “Ragú.”
There's nothing inherently “wrong” with these products. Some are
actually quite good. It's just that modern commercial processing and
production methods have long since sucked anything Italian out of
them, leaving them with nothing but their Italian names.
The problem extends beyond frozen and
packaged foods. I would hope anybody with an ounce of common sense
could figure out that frozen pizza, no matter how many vowels the
name contains, is not really Italian. It's another matter when it
comes to basic ingredients like tomatoes, cheeses, meats, oils, and
vinegars. These are the areas where counterfeiting really takes a
toll.
Remember the scandal a little while
back wherein an American manufacturer of “Parmesan” cheese was
found guilty of adulterating the product with wood fiber filler? And
yet, because the crap was packaged in Italian colors and sold as
“100% Grated Parmesan Cheese,” the lemmings at the supermarket
all bought the stuff and jumped over the cliff, just as the marketing
people intended.
Even I can't keep track of all the
olive oil fraud going on these days. When I was a kid, the only place
you could buy olive oil was in shops in the Italian neighborhoods.
Regular grocery stores were stocked with corn oil and vegetable oil
and something nebulous called “salad oil.” But then olive oil
became a “thing” and the bootlegging began. Remember the
“business” The Godfather was in? Life imitates art and the Mafia
really does have its fingers in the olive oil trade. Fake
extra-virgin olive oil is a major problem globally. And don't judge
an oil by its Italian name. You know, like “Violi”?
I was in a supermarket the other day
and witnessed two ladies debating over balsamic vinegar. Now, you are
not going to find a twenty-five year-aged, four-hundred dollar bottle
of real balsamic vinegar on any supermarket shelf in America. The
best you're going to get is the common commercial grade stuff. There
were several price points available at this store, ranging from
around twenty-five dollars down to a bottle that sold for about three
bucks. They all had Italian-sounding names like Alessi and Colavita,
but apparently Monari Federzoni “sounded the most Italian.” A
freakin' sixteen-ounce bottle for a little over three dollars! I bit
my tongue clear down to the root.
Real Parmigiano-Reggiano goes for about
twenty dollars a pound. A pound of grated crap in a can goes for
about seven bucks. Decent Italian extra-virgin olive oil is going to
set you back at least twenty dollars for a seventeen-ounce bottle.
You can buy a gallon of
something with an Italian-sounding name for fifteen bucks at some
stores. American grocery store shelves groan with American-grown
“Italian-style” tomatoes
with Italian sounding names, and generic prosciutto with names like
“Del Duca” that never even saw a map of Italy. Can you blame
Italian producers for being upset?
Here
in the US, we have very few “protected” food products. Vidalia
onions come immediately to mind. These onions, by law, have to be
grown in certain parts of Georgia in order to bear the name. Italy
has more than two hundred legally protected and regulated food
products. And because many other countries, the United States
included, do not recognize the laws protecting these products, the
farmers, growers, and artisans who produce them are being ripped off
by purveyors of inferior garbage trying to make a quick buck off
their hard work and good names. Again, can
you blame Italian producers for being upset?
DOP (Denominazione d'Origine Protetta
or Protected Designation of Origin) and IGP (Indicazione Geografica
Protetta or Protected Geographical Indication) are the two
designations that ensure the origin and exquisite quality of the
authentic Italian products they include. And they are the only
assurance of authenticity. Words like “Product of Italy” and
“Made in Italy” are worthless. Take, for example, a bottle of
olive oil that says “Product of Italy” on the label. The oil
might come from Morocco, the bottle from Albania, the cork in the
bottle from Portugal, and the label itself from Switzerland, but as
long as they all met in an Italian factory, it is a “Product of
Italy.” Of course, I guess that's better than some pasta company in
Kansas City trying to pass off its product under an Italian-sounding
name.
It comes down to this: if you want
Italian quality, buy Italian products, not just an Italian-sounding
name. If you don't care about Italian quality, buy whatever is
cheapest. But don't expect the same results. Be a label reader and be
aware of where the food you put in your body comes from. Whether
you're looking for Italian quality or not that's always a good idea.