An Italian baptism: more than coffee and cake

I already knew that the average Italian seizes (almost) every opportunity to make it a big party. But that the family already serves a seven-course lunch during the first 'party' of your life, rents half a hotel with special photo booth and all the trimmings? No, I did not know that. Anyway, what can I remember of my own baptism… 

La sorpresa nella chiesa

A brief introduction to how we got here. I'm in Bardolino for a surprise trip.

Not one where you don't know in advance where you're going, but a real surprise that will take place at a different location. Yes, very cryptic. It's a secret surprise after all.

The youngest member of the Pietralunga family, Umberto, son of Massimo who you know from my tips for Bardolino, was christened on November 14. Now it is true that my father and his partner are a nice moppie can sing.

In addition to being a family friend, Massimo is also a modest fan of theirs and what could be more fun than during the baptism come out from behind the organ and sing as a surprise to little Umberto? Indeed: nothing. 

Success story

Baptism mass has just started when the pastor announces that we are starting with music! The organist, who resembles Dracula annex Harry Potter with his fleece cape, starts to play.

My father and his partner appear from behind the organ and the surprise begins. Baby Umberto doesn't kick the entire christening celebration.

Father Massimo, on the other hand, who cries for the whole family. The church service is short, it takes about 20 minutes.

This is due to the corona: it has to be done quickly, there is no time to elaborate and afterwards there is a short photo opportunity, but after 10 minutes the pastor turns off the lights of the church. Over with the fun. At least we still think so. 

Lunch? 

Returned in Parc Hotel Germano, where the 'after party' of the baptism will be held, we are expected during lunch.

Until now, Baptism Sunday has resembled how things are going in the Netherlands. In the protestant or catholic church you are prayed for, preached and you get a splash of water on your head and a candle to take home. So far so good.

What does not happen in the Netherlands (to my knowledge) is that after the church service there is still a whole program around it. We are preparing for lunch with the whole Pietralunga family. About 80 people.

That alone is special. Because of the corona they haven't seen each other for almost 2 years, so it's an emotional reunion for everyone. Once we have settled down at our round table, we notice the menus in front of us. Seven courses? Lunch? Oh yes, we are finally in Italy. 

The star of the afternoon

We start with a carpaccio and our expectations are immediately high. The plates can go straight back in the cupboard, because it is really delicious.

What is striking about this lunch is that the family continues to sit neatly at the tables. Uncles and aunts in one place. Cousins, of course with mobile or iPad in hand, in the other place. Older aunts and uncles tucked far away in the corner.

And every time mom or dad walks through the room with little Umberto, a kind of 'wave' goes through the space of 'oh' and 'ah'. The real Casanova is not even one year old, but already steals the hearts of many aunt, grandmother or niece. It's that they can't continuously pinch his cheeks, but otherwise…

Nothing, absolutely nothing, has been left to be desired in the decoration of the room. Cushions with a picture of the bambino. Balloons with his name. Cookies with his name. The ribbon around the box of bacon, which of course also bears his name, has been personalized. But the biggest spectacle: the photo booth. 

Photoshoot in a candy store

During lunch you will see other invitees try to catch a glimpse of Umberto's father or mother in order to lure them for a photo in the blue and white decorated 'candy shop' with personalized candies, cookies, photos and teddy bears. Everything for the good photos afterwards.

If we go after the 3 appetizer, ravioli, risotto and a sorbetto, having arrived at the main course, we are already almost 2 hours further. We are not short of anything. The plates are not yet empty when the waiters are already standing next to you to ask if something can be served.

What they don't know is that we can hardly say porridge anymore. And then it's just lunch. Not only is the food lavish, the drink (and I don't mean just the water, of course) flows liberally in and out of the glasses. You also notice that in the family.

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Put 80 Italians and 4 cheese heads in one room and you start at volume level 5, but after a few hours it is increased to decibels that you say to yourself.

Remarkable: the non-English speaking Italian speaks English better and better, and the non-Italian speaking Dutchman speaks Italian better and better. Do not fraternize, such a glass of white or red. 

All's well that ends well

As the afternoon progresses, the food is generously served and the empty liquor bottles are exchanged at an increasing speed, I catch myself thinking: that we may still experience this.

I would have laughed out loud if anyone had told me that on my 25th I would be attending a baptismal service, and with that a whole day, in Bardolino. Not only because it seemed unrealistic, but also because the word 'baptism' would not make me think of such a fantastic day as this.

A meeting in church with a slice of cake or a white bun with ham or cheese perhaps. And if you're lucky, a bitterbal and a nightcap afterwards. Thus the word 'baptism' was imprinted in my head. And don't forget the splash of water.

It makes sense, of course, that I can no longer remember my own baptism. But, it would have been close if I hadn't remembered this Italian baptism the next day either.

One thing has become 100% clear to me again: Italians are the nicest people on earth.