I came back to Italy after having spent almost three years in Ireland. Nonetheless, I now speak more English that I ever did abroad, surrounded by a group of foreigners in my own country. Such is the irony of life. Mine is the privileged situation of an Italian studying in an English-language master's program in Italy. Every day I encounter differences. Even the consumption of a simple plate of pasta makes me think of how different people's perceptions are and really helps me learn how important it is not to take everything for granted.

A few days ago I was reading the Italian newspaper La Repubblica and I came across an article by Michele Serra. He quoted David Grossman and commented on his theory of “the others.” Grossman's point was that we offer these others an understandable opposition, our natural human resistance. “Others” disturb and mutate the fragile flux of our daily habits, starting with those others who are closest to us. The other is by definition an invader: he is the non-me, the non-us. I was really impressed by this concept—it has become a recurrent topic of my life and my studies—and I started to apply it to my personal experience.

A series of others (close others) study food and culture with me. Without them I wouldn't be able to sense my identity as I do. Difference, as threat and opportunity, is the mirror of the self and the spice that livens up a plate. A plate is a good image for the students of UNISG, a salad for example. Different nationalities mixed together, all chopped up and sprinkled with the same dressing: the information and the experience we are exposed to, every day, during our program.

I play on my home turf, like Heiner, the other Italian. The rest of the group is all visiting. But my classmates didn't leave their countries without carrying some of their favorite and characteristic ingredients. Nomi came with her passion for fresh greens, which are the main ingredients of most Israeli dishes. We tried her rich salads based on seasonal herbs, and noted that in Italian cuisine they would be considered more as a garnish, rather than a main dish. Katie doesn't travel without her pat of Irish butter: everybody got to appreciate the rich saltiness of her creamy butter from County Kerry. (She discovered that the reason Italian butter is so tasteless by comparison is because it is made from whey, the residue left after cheese production uses up the fat, rich part of the milk. In Italy, butter is the last product in the chain.) Lucia eats spoonfuls of plain hot sauces; in her South Korean dishes heat is never missing. Susanna, from Puerto Rico, brought some tropical tastes with her: her gastronomic baggage carries guava pastries, and also tostones, fried green plantains. Naoya welcomes his guests with green tea ice cream or, on rainy days, with a Japanese tea. Elisa customarily adds a pinch of paprika to her sauces, adding a sweet-sour touch; chorizo and jamon iberico are at the root of her passion for cured meat.