Enjoying apertivo
Oggi devo propprio togliermi questo sfizio.
Today I really must take this craving away.
Italians have a deep and loving relationship with pleasure. Whether it’s an espresso in the middle of the day, an evening strolling the coastline with a gelato, or a morning spent in bed eating pastries and then making love in the crumby sheets, they realize that there is no such thing as the very American, Puritanical belief in guilty pleasure.
Uno sfizio (pronounced “svee-tsio”) is something one can only take away, a longing to do, eat, or have something without any logical reason for it. It’s an activity simply for pleasure’s sake, a whim or indulgence to satisfy the senses. It isn’t something you have to earn – or do penance – for.
Yet everywhere you look in Italy, you’re standing in the shadow of the Roman Catholic Church. The church is omnipresent in Italian society, standing shoulder to shoulder with the idea of shame. Abundant images of Jesus and Mother Mary constantly remind Italians that their every thought, word, or deed is being recorded – and harshly judged – by God. No one does shame like the Catholics.
But shame and guilt are two different emotions. Guilt is behavior-based, a feeling of remorse for some offense or wrong, whether real or imagined. It’s closer to the realm of perfectionism than shame. Shame is the painful feeling of dishonor and doesn’t necessarily depend on our having done anything.
Think of guilt as I did something bad. Think of shame as I am bad.
While shame, that painful feeling that we are inherently horrible people, is never productive, guilt is a healthy motivator. As the Italians see it, as long as we’re not hurting anyone else, why wouldn’t we lean into moments of pleasure? These moments are not sinful or self-indulgent. They are powerful pauses in an existence already drowning in shame.
Which brings us back to uno sfizio, that very Italian recipe for life. Sfizio is just another way to worship because pleasure is seen as holy, a way to revere God Himself. If God didn’t want us to thoroughly enjoy food, wine, sex, architecture, music, poetry, or fashion, He wouldn’t have created us with the creative curiosity that gave rise to those innovations. After all, God created wheat but man figured out how to turn it into mouth-watering focaccia.
The sfizio way of existing is far slower than American life. The Italian day is carved into sections that allow for a willing choice to be present with pleasure.
Il riposino – meaning the rest – is that beautiful time after lunch to recharge, when “open” times for shops are flexible. When the proprietor feels the need to smoke, nap, or stroll around town, they close up. No one feels errant in carving out time to savor beauty and delight. This is the time to doze (pennichella, or little nap), listen to music, or stare out at the landscape; a time to rest the eyes and gather the thoughts. We found this was a delightful time to explore the towns, as the streets are almost deserted and there is always a beautiful cathedral nearby to duck into if you need a respite from the blazing sun or the loud, raucous piazzas.
Apertivo is a happy hour upgrade, a sophisticated time to to linger in life’s glimmers, be it the way the light sparkles in your cocktail glass or the way that alley cat yawns and stretches. Apertivo is a tradition of connection, best shared with friends and family. This relaxed, post-work but pre-dinner cadence – generally between 7pm and 9 pm – is a glorious time to relax over a spritz (prosecco paired with something bitter like Campari or Aperol) and beautifully arranged charcuterie. It’s as much about stimulating the visual sense as the taste buds, as Il cibo dovrebbe nutire l’anima non solo il corpo, or food should feed the soul and not just the body.
Passeggiata is the customary evening promenade, the daily ritual of strolling aimlessly through the alleyways and streets as darkness descends. This was where I learned one of my favorite phrases: amo le tue scarpe, or I love your shoes. Even on the uneven cobblestone streets, Italian women always have on beautiful shoes (and they always smell amazing). Italians take care to dress well, embracing la bella figura, or dressing to impress. Never is it easier to spot the tourists – with their fanny packs and sneakers – than during passeggiata. Forget your fitness trackers; passeggiata isn’t about distance logged or calories burned. It’s about being fully present in a moving body, using all of the senses to inhabit the now. It often involves a late-night gelato.
Uno sfizio is easily my favorite souvenir from my southern Italy trip. I’m releasing the idea that I should feel guilty for craving pleasure and instead am embracing the idea that a full, meaningful life is made up of a string of these moments of delight. Oggi devo propprio togliermi questo sfizio.
