An Italian family gathered together is a sight to behold. It’s utterly chaotic, and for someone who speaks very little italian, very confusing.

The process usually starts one or two days beforehand at the supermarket, buying the supplies for, what looks like, a gastronomic exhibition. I don’t know how (literally I don’t know how, I am a terrible cook) but Italians seem to take a simple dish and turn it into a Michelin rated meal. Simplicity seems to be the key. The amount of times I have heard “no, that’s not italian” or “this is not possible” makes me rethink all those italian nights at our local pub. The day I learnt chicken parmigiana was not a staple dish, was a very dark day for me. It’s still a tender issue.

Anyway I regress, the cooking itself is always a mystery to me. But then, I pride myself on my skills at tiger toast (an australian delicacy) and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Palau is a coastal town so guaranteed seafood will make an appearance and if there’s not a dish involving pasta or risotto, then it’s just not italian. Then there’s desert, a digestive (limoncello, mirto or grappa) and the finale is a strong but sweet espresso – 2 parts coffee and 1 part sugar naturally.

And while this feast is being devoured with fingers, forks and vino, there’s the conversation. I didn’t understand all of what was going on but I assume from the volume and hand gestures that it was catastrophic. Someone may have died but that’s just a guess.  

After all food has been demolished, the coffee and limoncello has vanished and there is literally not one clean plate left in the entire kitchen, well wishing and cheek kisses are in order – which incidentally I am still quite unused to. I find it unnecessary to go to first base with every person I’ve met and hugging in general for me is an awkward thing.

BUT after all the well wishing is done, all parties retire to their respective houses and beds because an italian family gathering is akin to two consecutive nights of straight vodka shots – you always say never again but you know it’s going to happen with or without your consent.