Letters from the other side

Fighting evil

Published on Cook_inc., 09/2022

As darkness falls, we don't wear masks and skintight costumes to hide our identity. We don't brag about having superpowers, and we don't rely on any extraordinary means. In our Gotham, this is how we do it: in the morning we first grab a coffee, then we climb up to the Bronx with express trains 2 or 5. Yet, since 1999, among labyrinths of tomato can towers and fluorescent graffiti, our efforts have been focused on nothing less than fighting evil. 

We are Gustiamo. We import and distribute in the North American continent what we believe are the best foods from Italy, our home. Between our producers and consumers lie only the Atlantic, the shippers, and we. Our approach is rigorous, hence the fight-the-evil business. 

The bond between Italian food - or Italy, more broadly - and US consumers is well-established. Italians represent the fifth ethnic group in the country. In other words, the chance you are interacting with someone of Italian descent in the United States is 1 in 20. In a place like New York City, the percentage increases to around 15%, or 1 out of 7. A legacy reflected in the widespread familiarity with our language, culture, and, ovviamente, food. But there is a downside. The popularity of "Bella!", "Buona Sera!", "Mangia!" and "Dolce Vita!" translates into a predictable approximation of everything Italian. It is among these approximations that our much-anticipated enemy often lurks: the infamous Italian-sounding. Often, but not always. Not everything is fake, and not everyone is an impostor. In the US, eating fine Italian food at home or in a restaurant – especially in big cities – is, if not easy, undoubtedly feasible with the proper budget. Providing access to authentic ingredients to cook Italian food is Gustiamo's primary objective.

To be perfectly clear, we are not at war against chicken parmesan or spaghetti & meatballs. We recognize Italian-American cuisine's historical and social value and appreciate its ingenuity - despite its hard-to-digest garlicky disposition. We keep the temptation of "this is how it's supposed to be done" subdued, overcoming biases and opening arms, minds, and mouths. We do it especially when in the kitchens research and care take the lead; this is why we take great pride in supporting American chefs and producers that work mindfully to replicate or experiment with our gastronomic heritage. What we can't really stomach is dishonesty, and believe us, there's plenty. In fact, here's a figure to quantify it: around 60 billion euros per year in sales, steadily increasing. This number sums up food products that misleadingly use names, graphics, or other references to Italy. Products that, in reality, have nothing to do with the Boot, and whose revenues end up in the pockets of the deceitful ones. Unfair competition is never cute, but it becomes even more vicious when virtuous cases capitulate under it.

A prime example is extra virgin olive oil. A great deal of "Italian" EVOOs are sold in the United States at a suspiciously low price. And it is more than just the tricolor flag on the label; we are witnessing subtle yet devastating narrative thefts. There are promotional videos out there of old farmers anxiously waiting for the first drops of their freshly pressed oil at some mill in Tuscany, hopeful and impatient like fathers outside delivery rooms. Yet, something doesn't strike right: these pathos-packed plastic bottles containing Tuscan extra virgin olive oil cost $0.29 per fluid ounce, or about $9 per liter*, shipping included. It happens on Amazon in the US, but the bucolic-sounding mania also thrives in Italy. Same concept as above, with even lower prices.

There are overlapping layers of unfairness caused by deceptive food narratives: it affects the entire industry, incentivizing producers to cut corners and resulting in an understandable collective mistrust. When following the rules by the book is not worth it, the rate of farm abandonment is skyrocketing. It's happening in olive groves as in any other agricultural sector, a trend that shows no signs of slowing. Some might argue that if real, sustainably made products were unmistakably better than counterfeits, consumers would appreciate that difference and pay a premium price. While this is theoretically true, food alterations have become so sophisticated to elude even panels of professional tasters. 

When fiction and reality become indistinguishable, the temptation is to give up. Yet, we are not quite equipped for defeat, so we persevere. We keep fighting evil, not much by unmasking the villains but rather by pushing the good guys. It turns out, the best way to do that is to be their American bullhorns. But you can only be someone's ambassador if you truly know who you represent, so we went beyond that. We talk to our producers daily, but we also take the time to meet their siblings and partners, grandparents and seasonal workers, interns and second-in-commands, and also their warehouses, sheepdogs, enemies, and soccer buddies. We take every opportunity to visit or bring them here, putting them face-to-face with their overseas fans. They are the tastemakers crafting food worth fighting for and not empty Made in Italy labels. They are the ones generating positive externalities through their tireless dedication. With many of them, we have relationships spanning over 20 years, a time during which we have witnessed how crucial their work is for the local economy, social fabric, landscape, and biodiversity. We might fight evil, but who are the real superheroes in this tale? 

*As a reference, the average wholesale cost for a kilogram (slightly more than 1 liter) of extra virgin olive oil in Italy is about $8 before transportation, packaging, and marketing costs.