Pasta the Prima Donna

So many of my memories of Italian food, are associated with music. Much of this is to do with my grandparents and the people they invited to their farm at South Morang for Sunday lunches. The grand piano was always played by someone in the big lounge area adjoining the dining room. Sometimes the kids would be allowed to try and play before lunch and the guests arrived, but more often after the meal, there would be impromptu performances from visiting artists. The most dramatic of these, I am told, was when the Italian Grand Opera Company visited. Maestro Wolf-Ferrari was at the piano with Maestro Franco Ghione conducting the 35 Italian principals. They sang opera choruses and folk songs. The occasion was a joint birthday for my grandfather and Maestro Ghione. Fortunately no reviewer was present.

At quieter times, my grandmother, in between painting in her studio overlooking the bush, would practise a little. More often she would take up my cousin’s guitar and recall playing the mandolin, the instrument of her girlhood in the north of Italy. She loved all stringed instruments and was a great supporter of the work of the instrument maker, Giovanni Cera. Giovanni designed and made baroque style guitars and mandolins as well as being renowned as a careful repairer of instruments. He had his own group, a Tango Orchestra, which performed on 3LO and played at Mario’s for about twelve years.

Initially the music at Mario’s was on Sunday nights when the singing waiters would emerge. Albert Argenti started as a boy tenor at 15, became a star, made a number of recordings, was a finalist in the Sun Aria, went overseas to engagements in London and set up his own reception rooms in Melbourne. He sang often with my Aunt Maria (Maria Carolla, mow Maria Barro) both at Mario’s and on radio programs. Her beautiful voice was always a highlight of the Sunday evenings. She remembers too one of the chefs who "always sang out of tune, but if he wasn’t allowed to sing, he would not work." Later, cabaret performances were featured regularly with dinner at Mario’s right throughout the week. Major recording and stage artists were flown out from the USA and from South America. One of these, the Duo Moreno, came and stayed - for a long time at Mario’s and then in Australia, establishing their own venue and training many other musicians.

But I can never recall eating whilst listening to music, either at the farm or at the restaurant. There was respect for the music, to be listened to with all attention, but even more respect paid to the meal. And particularly the pasta.

Everyone had to be at table waiting for the pasta to be served. Pasta has to be eaten just when it is ready, it can’t be underdone (al dente - just to feel it on the teeth - is not underdone, but done just to the right point) and it must never wait for late diners. So you must be at table ready to eat. It is heresy for pasta to wait, you must go to the table when called. Not much interrupts the pasta eating - minimal wine and conversation till the plate is finished

For this reason, I think of pasta as the prima donna of the meal table.

Proper meals are like a show at the table. An Italian meal is not really complete without pasta. And the production triumphs or fails on the quality of the prima donna.

Some cooks choose the pasta and then make the sauce as the shape of the pasta helps in eating the sauce. Other cooks see it the other way round. The shape of the pasta is determined by its sauce. But whichever comes first, the result is critical to an Italian meal. And the Italian meal is critical to the Italian way of life. Children still come home from school for lunch. Families still sit at table together. Every Italian mother is a prima donna too. It is her house, her way, which dominates.

Of course, times are changing in Italy, pre-prepared foods are taking over from the home cook. But still the notion of sitting together at table has its importance and the central part of the meal is still dominated by pasta.

So pasta is the cornerstone. The way to the heart of an Italian.