07/09/2026
When I say to you I am visiting a family on their Salami Day, what do you think? Cos let me tell you, everything you think is SPOT ON.
Everyone gathered in the garage, surrounded by tools, vacuums, years of accumulated history and trinkets and garage-type things. A tinny radio playing music that jumps from Italian songs to Whitney Houston. So much laughter, with busy hands keeping the production line going. Jokes and random conversations and kids interrupting cos they need something.
Kids of all ages running in and out, switching from joining the production line to playing with Nonna’s toys in the other room while the adults do their thing.
Nonna herself flitting between the kitchen and the garage. Putting the after-Salami-Day snack in the oven, deciding it’s time for espresso, teaching her granddaughter how to make it, pulling out the limoncello.
Nonno at the helm, working the processor and keeping it all going. Always pausing to show a grandchild how to do something or give them a go.
Siblings, partners, aunts, uncles, friends, babies, dogs. Chaos. Loud, overlapping conversations.
It was such a fu***ng delight. I was in my bloody element. I wanted to reach in and join the fun.
When I was booked for this, I had hoped it would be what I imagined from all the movies and things I’ve heard.
Friends, IT WAS. I loved it. I love that they’ve been doing this together for years, and that the kids are now growing up as part of it too.
