Column: la raffle

'Rein, will you join us for lunch on the 25th?' My best friend Leonardo doesn't like it that I cook myself for Christmas. "You know how my father cooks and the family would love to have you here this year!"

I always like it a lot. I've known Leonardo for almost three years now and we've been best friends from day one, so Christmas with his family can only be fun. "Prepare yourself, Rein, because you're going to meet a lot of people in 5 hours and they're all excited to see you!"

“Be there by 12.45:13.00 PM. Or no, just do it at XNUMX p.m., because we still need some time,' is the text I get from him. Meanwhile, I call his girlfriend who tells me how incredibly jealous she is that I'm with her boyfriend's family. 'Rein, you know, they are treasures. And at Christmas they go the extra mile.'

I brace myself and ring the bell. Soon the front door flies open and Leonardo's mother greets me with a cheerful cry: 'Whaaa, there he is, our Dutch bonus son! Welcome baby, what have you brought? Ooh that shouldn't have been necessary!' Laughing, I hand her a bunch of white roses and walk on to Leo's father, who is busy cooking.

'Glad you're here, Rein, we've been really looking forward to seeing you!' he says. Then another grandmother, Leo's sister, an aunt and an uncle, and the brother of Leo's father. 'So,' says the latter, 'so you are the famous Dutchman that the family has been talking about for 2,5 years.'

Just as I begin to wonder where Grandma Gloria has gone, we hear someone say in a very directive tone, "Open the door, the lasagna wants to go in and so do I!"

As she sets the huge tub of lasagna on the counter, she looks around the group. She nods with a satisfied look and sits down. 'I believe we are complete like this. Except for your love Leo, but I'm glad my great friend came to the table instead.' She winks at me and then says sternly, “You've lost weight. You need to eat more!' 

The table is full of antipasti and Leo's mother fills the glasses. 'Let's toast guys, have a nice Christmas,' she exults. Then the first round of pasta is put on the table. There is a hearty meal and when the plates are empty, the second comes first on the table: Gloria's lasagna.

Then Leo's father gets up and starts to cut the three different kinds of meat. The battle for the seconds has started. Lamb heads, roast beef, turkey, can be varied with 3 types of sauces, 4 different types of vegetables, and then there is a choice of bread, potatoes and a mash. And woe betide if after a few pieces of meat you say you've had enough. There will be food! 

Then there is the choice of 4 desserts. However, choice, you must have tasted all four in the end and so you eat your 3rd meal of the day. How delicious and meanwhile all conversations are about… food! How the dishes are prepared and what is tasty for next Christmas. In addition, some world issues are discussed and we are talking about football. 

To be honest, I'm used to it by now when it comes to the lunches and dinners in Italy. There is always a lot of food and it is eaten for a long time. Especially with Leo's family. So I can keep up with the pace and eat happily. In the end, at the end of the meal, you go to the sparkling wine to digest the whole thing again and you go home peacefully. 

While that "going home quietly" isn't quite Leo's mom's schedule. After dinner she looks impatiently at her watch and says in a compelling tone that we're going to go to aunt have to go. An aunt who lives in the other apartment complex.

I look at Leo questioningly and he starts to chuckle: 'Rein, now the rest of the family is coming.' we walk to aunt and when we enter I hear from the living room: 'The Dutchman is there too!' Soon I see a room with 40 people who are all family. Just saying hello takes 25 minutes and pinching your cheeks and saying 'how are you doing in Italy?' is out of the blue.

Then suddenly a furious-looking aunt shouts: 'Guys, if we don't start now, I won't need it anymore!' It quickly becomes quieter and everyone sits down at the table. I look at Leo questioningly and he then laughs. 'Yes Rein, what the gladiators did 2.000 years ago we do at Christmas. They are just other Games and in this case the game is called the Bingo.' I look at him with wide eyes: 'All that fanaticism is for BINGO?!'

The cards are quickly on the table, change is put into the pot and everyone starts diligently writing down their numbers. I laugh. The anvil is also hilarious, because they are blood fanatics and all want to win.

Later in the afternoon Leo tells me that la raffleBingo, is a true Italian tradition and bingo is played almost everywhere in Italy on Christmas Day. I let it sit, lose terribly and at a fake bingo the fierce-looking aunt becomes even more furious until she is satisfied with the bottle of grappa and 10 euros in prize money at the beginning of the evening.

Christmas with Italians: I recommend it to everyone.