THE ART OF EATING: AN ITALIAN SUNDAY
Our Roman correspondent, Victoria Cece, follows Jordan Mackay’s restaurant dining piece for Massican, with "The Art of Eating: An Italian Sunday," where she beautifully captures the Italian tradition of Sunday dining in Italy’s capital, Rome, painting a vivid picture of leisurely meals overflowing with friends, family, and beloved dishes. Victoria highlights the deep-rooted customs that make these gatherings feel timeless, from long, indulgent lunches to the ritual of a late-night “pizza romana.” She reveals that, for Italians, food is about more than just sustenance - it’s a cherished ritual that celebrates connection, relaxation, and a love for life’s simple pleasures.
There’s nothing more Italian than a Sunday table overflowing with everything that matters – crusty bread, bottles of wine, bowls of pasta, a few sauce stains, and the echo of laughter. Maybe the scene unfolds on the cobblestone streets of Rome or a terrazza with a view of the dazzling Mediterranean Sea. It’s an image that feels timeless, almost poetic.
A Sunday lunch is an enduring symbol of Italian life – defined by quality ingredients and seizing every moment together. With such a romantic image, you might wonder – do Italians really eat like this? The answer is as simple as it is surprising.
IT ALL COMES DOWN TO THE PIZZA
This might sound like a joke, but it’s not. Sundays in Italy are still for long and leisurely lunches that begin at l’una (1 p.m.) and wind down… whenever. Maybe it’s 3 p.m., maybe it’s 5:30 p.m. No rush, no agenda – just family, friends, and plenty of pasta. And after all that food, what comes next is a good couch to take a good pisolino (little nap).
It’s only natural to assume that dinner might be skipped after an afternoon of indulgence. But Italians don’t stray far from their rituals, even following a four-hour lunch. Dinner is often something light, and in Italy, that means pizza.
An American might raise an eyebrow – how can pizza be considered light? But if you’ve ever tried a pizza romana tonda (a thin, crispy Roman pizza), you’d get it. It’s cracker-thin, quick to cook, and when paired with a cold pint of beer, it’s the perfect end to the weekend – setting you up to snooze until Monday.
Like many things in Rome, late-night pizza is a tradition rooted in the past – when pizzerias needed all day to heat their ovens and churn out pies. While modern kitchens have changed, the tradition remains. Today, many Roman pizzerias aren’t open for lunch, only for dinner. And, after the weekend rush – many are closed on Mondays.
That’s because pizza isn’t just a meal; it’s part of the ritual, a celebration, a “cheers” to the end of the weekend. And if there’s one thing Italians are experts at, it’s celebrating.
Queue the opening scene of La Grande Bellezza.
ROME ON A SUNDAY AFTERNOON
Picture this: It’s Sunday in Rome, around 1:15 p.m. Fall has arrived; summer has slipped away, and the locals are back. Reservations are essential – Romans are heading to their second homes, known as their favorite restaurants.
Wander down the cobbled streets, and you’ll find families and friends filling the roads, making their way to tables already set with carafes of wine, a few ashtrays, and plenty of room for a baby carriage or two.
You may be thinking – why aren’t they heading to nonna’s house?
The reality is – Rome is a city of many. It is filled with people from all parts of Italy and beyond. Not everyone has a local nonna to retreat to.
Some may escape to lakes or countryside homes, but for most city dwellers, the Sunday ritual happens right in the heart of Rome – at the restaurants that have become their sanctuaries. These aren’t just any eateries; they are places where the owners, servers, and cooks feel like family, where childhood memories blend with new traditions – whether that be swapping their pasta for a katsu sandwich or meatballs for a chicken salad.
NEW YORKERS, YOU UNDERSTAND
The constants are simple: a big table, a group of loved ones, and no end time. There will be cigarette breaks, and the conversations will be abundant, much like the plates being passed around. The Sunday table is a reminder to stay present – raise a glass, bump elbows, and savor the moment. Whether the view is the Mediterranean or the rooftops of Rome, one thing is clear: life is good.
Because Monday can wait with its public transport chaos, its scioperi (a transportation strike), and the inevitable need for multiple coffee breaks.
Story by Victoria Cece | Top Photo by Rocco Cheslin | Pizza photo by Evan Roscoe