Italians in IrelandBeing Italian in Ireland is a family affair. That's why bankers, restaurateurs - even the ambassador himself - meet to ensure that standards don't slip and their pasta sauce is just like mama used to make it, writes Fiona Tyrrell.
ITALIAN BISTROS AND cafes are popping up on every second street corner and in most suburban neighbourhoods and we pride ourselves on knowing our prosciutto from our pepperoni.
But when Giorgio Casari, co-owner of the Unicorn restaurant in Dublin, first came to Ireland back in the early 1980s, it was a different story. "It was almost the case that you only got olive oil in chemists. And pasta? Forget about it. Most supermarkets only sold Roma pasta, made in Ireland. Now it is so much easier. You can get fresh cheeses, pasta, anything you want."
In his time in Ireland, however, Casari has seen some serious culinary crimes - carbonara cooked with bechamel sauce and lasagne made with broccoli. He has even seen people put tomato ketchup on pasta.
Quite the purist, Casari reckons there are only a handful of genuine Italian restaurants in the capital. Aside from Unicorn, of course, he rates Nicos on Dame Street and Botticelli in Malahide as good old-fashioned Italian restaurants. Bellagio in Terenure does authentic pizza. Dunne & Crescenzi on South Frederick Street and the new Carluccio's on Dawson Street are great for a bowl of pasta and some slices of Parma ham. Of course, this is bound to stir up controversy - a few other restaurateurs might beg to differ.
The secret to getting Italian cuisine right, according to Casari, is passion and simplicity. Italian cuisine is all about "not overworking the product," he explains.
The passion bit is a little harder to explain. "In Ireland we talk about the weather, but in Italy the most common topic of conversation is food. There is more talk about food than eating of food in Italy. It is a subject we talk about all day, every day." Even the main evening national news includes a cookery segment, he says. Casari, whose restaurant, especially at lunchtime on Saturdays, feels like the epicentre of la dolce vita in Dublin, is moving and shaking his way along Merrion Row, trebling the size of The Unicorn.
In Ireland, our first serious encounter with Italian culture was with the arrival of a number of families all from the same area in Ciociaria, in central Italy. This group - including the Macari, Caffola and Borza families - arrived after the second World War and carved out a niche for themselves in the fast food sector.
The next wave came in the 1980s. Among those was Mario Labrozzi, who first came to Ireland in the 1980s as security guard for the ambassador. Some of this group set up inexpensive traditional Italian restaurants, many of which are still in operation, such as the cluster of restaurants around Dublin's Balfe and Chatham streets. Now, according to Mario, the Italians arriving in Ireland are young professionals working in the computer and financial sectors.
Sergio Magnetti arrived in Galway in 1975. Now his family business - Trattoria Magnetti - is owned by his sons Sean and Marco, and run by his daughter Daniela. Sean and Marco have also branched out into food production, and supply supermarkets and restaurants with fresh pasta products made from imported Italian produce.
With more and more Irish people travelling to Italy, our appreciation of Italian food has increased, according to Sean. "People now recognise the difference between quality products and those that are under the mark, particularly when it comes to fresh pasta."
Stefano Crescenzi from the Dunne & Crescenzi restaurants in Dublin goes a step further. He puts the increase in demand for Italian food in Ireland solely down to cheap Ryanair flights to Italy - so much so that he would like offer Michael O'Leary a free meal "just to say thanks". Thousands of Irish people are holidaying in Italy every year and when they return they are looking for the real taste of Italy, he says.
One group which takes the notion of authentic Italian food very seriously is the Irish delegation of the Accademia Italiana Della Cucina. Sports journalist Orio Vergani established the academy in Italy in the 1950s. After following the Italian cycling tour around the country, he concluded that Italian regional food was dying.
Not a man known to mince his words he declared: "If work forces me to skip lunch, I'll skip it. But when I sit down at table, open and disposed to the restorative joy of the table, I want no fakes and even less rubbish."
Today the academy has 212 delegations in Italy and 73 abroad, with around 7,000 members. In Italy, the focus is on promoting regional variations, while abroad the aim is to preserve and promote real Italian cuisine.
In Ireland the academy has its work cut out for it. Out of the 200 restaurants in Ireland that claim to be Italian, only 20 could be considered authentic Italian restaurants, according to Paolo Zanni, chairman of the Accademia Italiana Della Cucina in Ireland. Do not be deceived by Italian sounding names, warns Zanni, who came to Ireland in 1999 to work with an Italian bank.
A recent survey conducted by the academy sought to identify the most falsified Italian dishes around the world. It's no surprise to hear that spaghetti carbonara, pizza, and ragu are top of the list.
Tinkering with time-honoured traditional recipes is a big no-no for the academy. "That does not mean that the dishes don't come out tasting good, but they are certainly not traditional Italian dishes."
Carbonara should be prepared with eggs, not served swimming in cream; pizza is made with mozzarella, not cheddar, and never with tomato ketchup; and traditional ragu sauce (Bolognaise) is not supposed to include meatballs, he explains.
"In the academy we try to get restaurants to push themselves and do better. To let people know what real Italian cuisine is." The academy visits Italian restaurants and vets them on their authenticity - food, wine, recipes, staff and ambiance are scrutinised. The restaurant owner gets feedback from the academy and the results are published in the international magazine of the academy, as well as on its website.
For Italians, cuisine is culture, Zanni says. Italian cuisine "expresses who we are, helps us rediscover our roots, develops with us, and represents us beyond our boarders. It is part of our blood and we would like people to know the real thing, rather than give the podium to chefs who don't know Italian cuisine. "If restaurants cook in the right way using the right ingredients, using the right recipes, they will be paid back."
Paola Montovani, another member of the academy, believes that the key to Italian cuisine is to keep Italian food Italian. Many restaurants make the mistake of modifying Italian food to suit the Irish palate, she says. "You either have Italian food or Irish food. If you mix them you have neither."
Meanwhile, back to Giorgio Casari, who is in the throws of devising the menu for his new restaurant on Merrion Row, around the corner from the Unicorn. He is planning an Irish-Italian fusion restaurant (think Clonakilty white pudding with gorgonzola bruschetta), and a rural Chinese and Japanese restaurant on the upper floor. One wonders what the academy will think?