My little old Italian apartment never got the best service nor had the best Wi-Fi connection. Turns out, their way of life wasn’t the only thing that moved at a slower pace…
But of all places in the apartment, do you know what room had the worst connection- and actually come to think of it, no connection at all?
The kitchen.
When I first moved in, this was a frustrating realization. As much as we may wish we spent less time on our phones than we do… I’m pretty sure we’re all guilty of playing a show while we cook or giving mom a call. As I’ve lived utterly on my own for the last year or so, I fell into the routine of distractions while cooking or eating alone- to well… make things fill a bit less lonely. Something to help pass the time and distract me from the silence.
But here- in this small Italian kitchen whose oven blew a fuse every time it was turned on… I didn’t have a choice. If music was downloaded to my phone- that was all well and good- but no phone calls, no Gilmore Girls, no texting, nothing. Just me and the sound of the sizzling olive oil in my stovetop pan.
I wouldn’t say I need my phone to breathe or anything. In fact, most days I make statements about just how much I wish I could throw it out the window and live without it. Less distractions, more peace, ya know? But somewhere along the way of adapting to my completely solo lifestyle, I will admit it was always on me. It became the thing that connected me to my family when the distance was too far. It translated all of menus and road signs and helped me literally find my way- if there was an widget counting which app was used the most this year… Maps, hands down, would win.
I digress.
As I adjusted to this new change that admittedly left me a bit uneasy, I thought- a lot. Over time, the uncomfortable silence between me and the popping pan slowly began to feel more like a comfy couch you just sink into.
I feel like in general, there’s a universal understanding of what the Italian culture historically values…
Family, food, and fun.
Whether purposeful or not, I found it so interesting that the one place in the apartment where family is meant to gather and food is meant to be consumed, there was no service connecting you to the distracting and loud outside world we live in today. No Instagram posts would load, nor news would disrupt. The only way to socialize in the kitchen was to have people physically there- directly in front of you. And if the people were lacking, your only choice was to sit with yourself and your own inner thoughts- something we all must do from time to time.
So, whether purposeful or not- I will forever think that it was every bit intentional.
That small little kitchen on Santa Reparata taught me to just be- to just exist. We live in a highly overstimulating world and have grown up in cultures where doing one thing at a time simply isn’t enough. You’re cooking dinner? Well, why aren’t you also updating your portfolio while the pasta boils? Or what about responding to all of your missed texts from the day? What ever happened to enjoying the simplicity of what life has to offer?
Now listen, I’m not saying there aren’t good reasons to have Wi-Fi in a kitchen and I’m not against multitasking- truly. I think there’s a time for everything and sometimes you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do; however…
What I will tell you is this-
Since moving out of my slice of home in Florence and reacclimating myself with American living, I’ve noticed something… I spent most of this summer either in the kitchen or at the office. If I wasn’t submitting purchase orders in my cubicle, I was either making breakfast, dinner, or meal prepping my lunch. And in an apartment that had perfectly fine cell service and Wi-Fi in the kitchen- I, most of the time, chose not to use it. In fact, sometimes, my phone wasn’t even in the room with me.
Every time I realized, I couldn’t help but smile a little. It brought me back- reminding me of those silent Italian nights of just me and the olive oil. And although lately, my kitchen meals have been spent by my lonesome, I think about the day when I will share it with someone- with a family- and I can’t help but wonder…
Will I have Wi-Fi in my kitchen? Or I guess an even better question…
Will I want it in my kitchen?
