More than about an achievement, today I'm telling you about an endeavour, a continuous fight to wake up early. I usually set my alarm for about six o'clock. I hit the snooze button twice, three times, until I find the courage to put my feet on the ground. Luckily I…
I took the good decision to live this summer on my own terms. No make up, loose linen clothes which might not be flattering for my thick hourglass figure, but help me stay fresh and pretend I'm constantly on holidays, even though I am sweating in the kitchen while roasting a chicken…
It has been a year since we began a tour of Tuscany with Ventura. For you it has been a virtual journey, scented with spices and nuts and done through local and traditional recipes. For me it has been a real journey made across Tuscan villages and cities, a journey of growth and knowledge, during which I met…
On Christmas Eve my granddad Remigio and my grandmother Margherita would put my mum and my aunt to bed, closing behind them their bedroom door. In the living room they would prepare in secret and with the utter silence the Christmas tree. They chose every year a small juniper tree which would fill the…
Since I opened my blog, the pleasure of meeting new people went hand in hand with the urgency of turning those virtual contacts as soon as possible into real friendships, with a personal tone of voice, with a body I could hug, with the thrill of a proper conversation around a table…
We're going to turn that page on the calendar and in a few days December will be here. I'm always slightly excited when I reach this last page, I remember when I hung it on the wall, all the expectations and hopes it came with. We're almost ready to get into…
Castagnaccio, a chestnut cake, is one of the first sweet treats that come to my mind when I think about the unpretentious and modest Tuscan cucina povera, as it is made just with chestnut flour, water, a drop of good olive oil, rosemary, raisins and pine nuts. You may think that there can't…
Take fresh fruit. Crisp apples eaten bite after bite on the street, a quick snack to tuck in your bag, a freedom statement I've proudly embraced since I used to have an apple as mid-morning snack at school. Sun ripened peaches praying to be devoured, soft velvety skin, a dense pulp and warm juices running…
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.