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Easter lunch, Christmas lunch or Italy's mid-august holiday lunch.
But the one that really everybody enjoys black and white people, believers and apostates, the young and the elderly is the Sunday Lunch. 
A legacy of what Italy was and the changes it is capable of: places, dishes and companies.
Each to their own, as long as you sit around a table or its simulacra new connectors of communities. 
Bare-chested or all dressed-up, under a statue of the Virgin Mary or on the beach, on a boat or in the park, on vacation or at workplaces old and new italians break their bread and pour their wine every Sunday, again and always together in the moment of communion. 
A communion that is not biblical or liturgical, but literal. 
From northern to southern Italy, indoors or outdoors, with the poor and the rich, photographer Niccolò Rastrelli dusted off the collective imagination about the value of the most enduring of italian rituals, to put it back into a multifaceted reality. 
The 1960s day trip driving a fiat 500 has been replaced by a gondola ride; the family lunch with a meal with friends. 
Grandparents no longer serve lasagne, and now they have no choice but to be served (much worse food) by nurses in a retirement home another sign of the passage of time.
His pictures are a light-hearted, multidimensional journey exploring how dynamics and relationships in family and society changed, but also how traditional Italy adjusted and enlarged in the past decades every Sunday, you will find communities of filipino immigrants sitting on the grass in the park; 
ethiopians sharing a meat dish in the restaurants where they once were clients and are now owners; friars welcoming curious onlookers and needy people to their soup kitchen.
Around lavishly set or simply prepared tables, the Sunday lunch celebrates a value that still endures, even when it is not so clear to its own, unconscious bearers, the sense of community.