To visit the hill town of Gambassi, a few weeks ago, we took the road to the Tuscan coast, passing from Volterra. Shortly before Volterra, we took a detour. We drove through oak woods and Mediterranean scrub, in a wild landscape that first brought us to the mountains and, immediately…
Where has April gone? And what about March and February, that slipped away from my hands, silent, liquid, imperceptible. Not to speak of May: I'd swear it had begun just a few hours ago, yet I'm already planning activities for June. Only yesterday I was hoping to spend a few…
That day, coming back home from work, I found mum in the kitchen. She was preparing dinner, her glasses lowered on her nose, a faded apron that could not protect her from oil splashes and clumsiness, a family prerogative, and an old woollen sweater to keep her warm. The wooden…
On the morning of our wedding my alarm clock rang at six. The night before I brought all my bride beauty essentials to my parents' house, into my old room where I used to sleep with my sister Claudia what look like decades ago. Only a dozen yards from my…
This is quite an unusual first post of the year. I'll leave my good intentions, our new projects, new recipes and the word I chose for 2019 to the upcoming posts. Today I want to talk about cookbooks, today I want to celebrate small victories rather than listing big fails. …
For years Mensanello has been just a nearby working Tuscan farm. My grandmother has aways referred to the Fattore and Fattoressa, the farm manager and his wife, with enormous respect. Mum used to buy fresh eggs from the Fattoressa, we used to go there on a Sunday to mass. There was a…
April gave us a foretaste of the good weather, with clear days, warm temperatures and a fragrant air soaked with the smell of flowers. I walked a lot, on the Francigena and in the woods, with an organized group and just with my family. I needed to shake off the…
A friend told us about this almost ninety-year-old gentleman who made beautiful copper pots in his old-fashioned workshop near Pistoia, then life, by chance, put us in contact with his grandson, and here begins our story. First we met Francesco on line, then in his family shop, Bottega Donnini, in…