My childhood memories are filled with Sunday lunches at my Nonni’s. The table would be set before anyone arrived, covered in beautiful linen tablecloths with floral-embroidered appliques and, of course, with a sheet of clear plastic over top. My mother tells me that in her childhood home, even the furniture was wrapped in plastic (is this just an Italian thing?!?). The good linen could never truly be exposed to the elements (a.k.a. her five children and 10 grandchildren)—not when fresh sugo, homemade wine and a family of hungry Italians were hovering.
By the time we sat down, there would already be food stretched across the table: aged-deli meats, cheeses, olives and calabrese bread. Fresh produce from my grandparents’ garden tossed into a salad. The finest china plates being passed, crystal glasses being filled with Canada Dry Ginger Ale (Shane Hollander was right: it's a staple) and my Nonna reminding everyone to mangia, mangia. You could insist you were full. You could physically gesture toward your stomach about to burst out of your jeans. It did not matter. There was always another meatball, another scoop of pasta and another piece of bread that someone had lovingly put on your plate.
Next week, my grandparents celebrate 60 years of marriage, which has me thinking about all the Sundays, holidays and family dinners that they've hosted over those six decades. Because if there's one thing my Nonna has perfected, it's not just cooking—it's the art of undeniable hospitality. I think that's something anyone can steal from an Italian grandmother, whether or not you grew up with one.
Nonna’s hosting philosophy is simple: There should always be enough. You don't want your guests wondering whether they're allowed to take another piece of bread. You want them to settle in. And as a newly engaged woman, I've started taking notes about how to host like Nonna and even prepare for my fiancé and I to grow into our own-Ziploc couch era. |
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Me (left), my sister and Nonna. |
🍽️ Make The Table Feel Special |
There are linens, proper plates and little details that make an ordinary Sunday feel like something worth sitting down for. It doesn't have to mean buying anything new. Use the cloth napkins you've been saving. Cut up fresh flowers and place them in a jar. Bring out the serving bowl you normally keep in the cupboard. The point isn't perfection, it's showing your guests that you were expecting them. The intention really seals the deal. Oh, and I fully support the clear plastic tablecloth—it saves on clean-up time!
One of my favourite things about an Italian meal is that the eating starts before the meal even starts. There's always something on the table waiting when you arrive: olives, cheeses, cured meat, vegetables…. Nobody is standing around holding a glass of wine and wondering when dinner is happening. It's a small thing, but it changes the whole feeling of a gathering. And for the love of Nonna, don't forget the bread! |
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😮💨 Always Make More Than You Think You'll Need |
It’s all hands on deck in Nonna’s kitchen. |
This one is written into the Italian constitution—leftovers are part of the party. At my grandparents’ house, nobody leaves empty-handed. My Nonna will pack up her homemade sauce, soppressata, giardiniera and enough future feasts to last you the week, often before we’ve even finished saying goodbye. It's a habit worth stealing.
Make a little extra sauce, roast more vegetables than you need or bake something that can be wrapped up for tomorrow. Sending someone home with food feels less like here are my leftovers and more like I thought about you beyond tonight. |
There’s something very freeing about the fact that dessert at my grandparents' house is often just fruit. At the head of the table, Nonno gets to work with a knife, swiftly chopping pears, apples, oranges, peaches and honeydew. And don’t forget the steaming pot of espresso that’s brewing on the stovetop, ready to wake everyone up after a filling meal. Nobody complains that there isn't a cake or asks where the chocolate mousse is. It reminds me that hosting doesn't always need a grand finale. Sometimes the best ending is just putting something fresh on the table.
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🍲 Don’t Make The Food The Whole Event |
I recently gave hosting like Nonna a go when I had my soon-to-be in-laws over. It was a success! |
This is easy to forget, especially in a food-centred household, but perhaps the biggest lesson I've taken from my grandparents is that the food is there to bring people together, not to keep you trapped in the kitchen.
Nonna’s meals are abundant, simple and hearty, but she’s never consumed with making every dish—or the house—look restaurant-worthy. There’s no precious plating or panic about whether everything is coming out at exactly the right moment. It’s classic comfort food, made to be shared. The meal becomes a conversation-starter rather than a performance, which is the kind of hosting we could all use a little more of.
As I grow older, I find myself returning to the memory of those classic weekend lunches. I’m not sure my cooking will ever rival my Nonna’s, or whether I’ll ever share her seemingly effortless confidence in producing enough leftovers to last another lifetime. But I hope to carry forward the things that matter most: a table full of loved ones, conversations that linger long after the plates are cleared and the simple joy of eating a little too many carbs. Recently, I hosted my soon-to-be in-laws for a traditional Italian feast. Somewhere between setting the table and serving the food, I felt the sweetest connection between the memories I grew up with and the life I’m beginning to build for myself. I even brought out the linen tablecloths my Nonna had gifted us from Italy, a small piece of her home finding its way into mine.
Though, if there’s one tradition I’m particularly excited to carry on, it’s the Italian art of preserving furniture. I’ll be stocking up on the Saran Wrap. No home of mine will be complete without at least one piece of furniture permanently encased in plastic. Some things are sacred!? |
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More On Hosting Like A Pro |
1.
OK, I know how to host, but am I a good guest? I’m brushing up on my etiquette skills to make sure I get an A+. Nothing says you’ve nailed it quite like a host who actually wants you back.
2.
Thanksgiving is over, and I’m already dreaming about this holiday potluck spread. I’ll be saving these recipes for the festive season of get-togethers, second helpings and eating so much I’m questioning whether my pants will even button.
3.As grocery costs continue to soar, hosting on a budget sounds like music to my ears. I’m all for a dinner party that looks like a million bucks without costing like it. |
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Stay tuned for next week’s edition with executive editor Erica Lenti! |
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