La Dolce Vita

How growing up in Italy taught me to enjoy life

My British friends often tell me it takes true Italian skill to lounge on a sofa the way I do, for hours, slowly sipping espresso, enjoying the pleasure of being alive with my loved ones, with zero guilt about being “unproductive”. In Italy this is called “dolce far niente” (sweet doing nothing). It took me many years of living in the UK to realise that “dolce far niente” is not a universal attitude; it is a quintessentially Italian cultural practice, and it is at the heart of our lifestyle. The first, most important secret to living “la dolce vita” is believing that you deserve joy.

The (at least traditional) British way of life is quite different. Many of my British friends feel the urge to be relentlessly productive, feel guilty when they don’t get much done, and seem almost suspicious of being too comfortable or experiencing too much pleasure.

Because I love my British friends and fiancé to bits, I have been gently encouraging them to embrace la dolce vita slightly more. I will reassure them that the muddy walk in the rain they planned can wait, and that they should enjoy their cappuccino leisurely. Instead of having an unsatisfying sandwich lunch even on a weekend, I will make vast quantities of risotto for everyone so that we can have a long, slow, candlelit meal followed by a proper siesta. And I will cook with proper Gallo risotto rice, because quality matters. Half the battle is simply convincing my British loved ones that they deserve to enjoy themselves.

My theory is that la dolce vita — the cultural practice of enjoying the small, simple luxuries of life — is one of the reasons (there are many others) why the Italian luxury industry is so big, and why “made in Italy” is so famous. If you are taught how to prepare a meal with great care for your loved ones, how to see the beauty all around you, and how to take some time every day to do nothing other than sip espresso, you will develop an attention to detail, a sense of beauty and an understanding of comfort. All of this will fuel your creativity; you have to know beauty and pleasure in order to create beautiful and pleasurable things for other people. Italians create luxury because they understand what luxury is.

Growing up near Venice, I was first and foremost taught that life is joyous. My parents would put me in a pretty dress, buy me gelato and take me on a passeggiata (a leisurely stroll) around Treviso or Venice. They would show me the churches, the palazzi and the shops and teach me to recognise and love beauty. I would make homemade gnocchi with my mother, and she taught me that my every meal should be delicious. On weekends we would have candlelit family meals that would go on for hours and hours. I was taught that family time is more important than productivity. I would sit outside a cafe with my parents and sip a cappuccino and do nothing other than be with them, and people-watch, and chat, and feel loved. In short, I knew from a young age that life is beautiful.

People should be free to be as productive as they like, but I believe being a bit more indulgent with yourself improves your quality of life. Why don’t you try it? When you can, take the time to cook something you really like from scratch, perhaps with a loved one. Buy the best ingredients you can afford (you don’t need to spend a fortune), and tell yourself that you deserve them. Make a good coffee and sit down to enjoy it without rushing to make a start on your endless to-do list. Try it, and let me know how it feels.