New Year’s Resolution: No More Sweets (Before Savory)
justitalianthings – JANUARY
For American children, dessert is a bargaining chip, an incentive to finish their vegetables and other “good” foods rather than subsisting on sugar alone. But by the time we reach adulthood, even this loose meal structure is often abandoned. Brownies before dinner or pie for breakfast become perfectly acceptable, especially during this post-holiday season when leftovers are endlessly reheated and repurposed. In Italy, however, meals are an art form, not just a means to an end. They follow a deliberate rhythm that reflects respect for both the food itself and the natural flow of the day. Breakfast is a simple caffè e cornetto. Lunch is light, followed by a mid-afternoon merenda (snack) to tide you over until dinner, which is a ritual unto itself: a progression from antipasto to primo, secondo, contorno, and, finally, dolce. Each course builds on the last, like chapters in a well-told story.
I learned about this cultural norm through encounters that, at first, baffled me. One summer day, while helping students move into their apartments, I suggested that the Umbra team stop for a gelato. It was hot, we were tired, and a quick scoop seemed like the perfect solution. But my Italian colleagues hesitated. With lunch on the horizon, gelato simply didn’t fit. Sweet before savory wasn’t just unconventional – it felt disruptive. Another time, I baked cookies to share with my Italian roommates. Fresh from the oven, warm and gooey, they seemed impossible to resist. But to my surprise, they pointed out that dinner was approaching and politely declined. For Americans, baking and sharing sweets is a quintessential gesture of care; at first, their response felt like a rejection of my efforts to connect. But when they eagerly requested cookies after dinner, I realized it wasn’t about disinterest; it was about timing. Dessert holds a specific place in the progression of a meal, and eating it beforehand would have diminished their experience. By waiting, they were actually showing respect for my efforts, ensuring that the cookies would be properly enjoyed.
What I initially saw as rigidity, I’ve come to appreciate as thoughtful intentionality. Each meal is part of a carefully orchestrated experience, with dessert as the grand finale – a satisfying conclusion that only works in its proper context. Eating sweets out of sequence interrupts the balance of flavors and feelings that meals are designed to evoke. This contrasts sharply with American attitudes towards food, where convenience and personal taste reign supreme. There’s freedom in eating what you want, when you want, in whatever order feels right to you. But while this flexibility can be liberating, it often comes at the expense of ritual and significance. In Italy, the structure of meals isn’t about restriction; it’s about creating an experience that feels thoughtful, harmonious, and complete.
I still have a soft spot for the spontaneity of my American habits, and could never turn down a freshly baked cookie, no matter the time of day. But living in Italy has taught me to view food as more than just fuel or indulgence. The act of eating is a celebration, a shared tradition, and a moment to be savored. As we step into the new year, perhaps my resolution will be to embrace this Italian reverence for meals a little more fully. Dessert will always have a special place in my heart – but maybe, just maybe, I’ll let it have a special place in each meal, too.
Lindsey Elena Cottle, Umbra Intern