Beyond Pizza and Espresso: Why Italian Cuisine Earned Global Protection

The arrival of spring is palpable in the London air; mornings are balmy rather than biting, and daffodils are now confidently marking their territory in St James’ Park. What's more, my tickets to Italy are booked, and in a couple of months I will be sipping a deliciously creamy affogato on a sunny Roman terrace.

Luckily for me, this small post-lunch indulgence has recently been afforded greater importance following Italian cuisine’s recognition as Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.

UNESCO’s award highlights not only ingredients and dishes boasted by Italian nonne, but also their recipes and the company they keep when feeding their loved ones. Helpfully, it promises to alleviate some inter-regional tensions following previous divisive UNESCO decisions. In 2017 and 2022 respectively, espresso coffee and Neapolitan pizza were granted World Heritage status. This time around, however, no speciality is forgotten; from Emilia Romagna’s tagliatelle al ragú to Sicily’s cannolo, the unparalleled diversity of Italy’s culinary landscape is wholeheartedly championed.

Is this all shallow ‘food-washing’? It seems not. UNESCO’s recognition follows a three-year campaign led by Giorgia Meloni, Italy's Prime Minister, for whom ‘cuisine is not just food or a collection of recipes. It is so much more: it is culture, tradition, work, wealth.’ Emphasis on wealth. The audit and consulting firm Deloitte estimates that imitation products cost Italy €120 billion annually. For a country with a food industry worth €251 billion, that is huge. UNESCO’s decision will, Ms Meloni hopes, stamp out knock-off products. It should ensure that pesto genovese truly is… well, genovese.

A World Heritage label awarded for cuisine is a first, but not surprising for Italy. No Italian term yet matches exception culturelle, and yet it surpasses the French where culinary protectionism is concerned. Milan opened its doors to its first Starbucks location only in 2018 and the American chain is struggling to compete with the trattorias – to date, it counts only seven coffee shops in Milan and six in Rome. France, on the other hand, is McDonald’s biggest European consumer, tallying 2,200 locations.

Keeping fast food giants at bay is no mean feat, and yet Italy has found the recipe for success: simplicity. Spaghetti al pomodoro can be replicated and elevated worldwide; home cooks and Michelin-starred chefs alike will find delight in assembling a humble tin of tomatoes, a bunch of basil, some garlic and a lonesome parmesan rind. A vol au vent or bœuf bourguignon – exquisite as these dishes may be – are time-intensive, expensive, and less forgiving. In short, less appealing.

Anyone can make an Italian dish their own; a tomato sauce or a simple tiramisu is only a canvas waiting to be exported, twisted, and remarketed to foreign palates. If in doubt, however, stick to the original: the likelihood of Chicago’s deep-dish pizza or cheddar-stuffed macaroni and cheese being next selected by UNESCO is slim. For now, at least, Italy’s authentic recipes remain protected — and the rest of the world is politely advised not to add cream.