I go to the market with a straw bag that Tommaso gave me for my birthday last year: on the one hand, it matches my feelings when I shop at the market, as if I were the protagonist of a Joanne Harris novel set in Provence, on the other I…
I feel like a chicken and potato salad, what do you think? What about roasted chicken and potatoes, isn’t it better? The thing is, Summer is here. I keep the windows open till late evening, I lose myself admiring the colours changing in the fields, ranging from green to a…
When I was a child bookshelves at home were overfilled with home magazines, cars magazines, books and an old cooking encyclopedia my mum bought before getting married: a few issues from the complete edition you could purchase at newsstands weekly. No trace of cookbooks or food magazines. Mum never loved…
News always scare me a little bit. Even more than a little bit to be honest. What is strange is that I also like the news, like a lot. I am always looking for something new, I hope that something will change, I hope to be surprised by new and unexpected…
Let's be honest: there's no dish like a roast chicken to celebrate a family get together. I am always slightly proud, a little feeling that warms me up from the inside, when I roast a chicken: you can smell it as soon as you open the door, a well known…
If I was not stuck by the snow in Pisa airport last Friday, which for me that I'm writing is actually tomorrow, I should be now in Belgium for the last day of a mini Christmas holiday, a long weekend with friends to discover a part of Europe that I…
Those who know me now does not understand how I could have been such a picky little girl as a child. Unfortunately my skinny season lasted only up to 5 years old, when, after the tonsils operation, the enticing world of tastes and smells of the kitchen unrolled in front of my greedy eyes,…
This is not a dish for vegetarians, though it is one of the dishes that I most enjoyed making, let alone eating! When I first made this chicken galantina, it was one of those wrong evenings when everything was spinning in the opposite direction to where you would like things…
I’ve written my first acceptance speech, sitting at my tiny desk in the living room with a stained apron, dreaming to wear a red dress and high heels and to stand in front of some of the best food writers, bloggers and editors of our time. I am sure I would have cried, I’m emotional.