I recently returned to Italy with my sister which was a dream come true for me. It had been 14 years since we’d been there together—I was 13 at the time and she was 16. And let me tell you, going to Italy as an adult has a lot of fun bonuses. Did someone say aperol spritz?
I could go on about how meaningful the richness of the culture and warmth of the people just feel like a big hug to the soul, or how the food is so satisfying and enjoyable you wonder if you’ve ever truly eaten before. But if you read anything on Italy, those topics are surely already covered!
My sister and I had 3 main destinations: Rome, Elba island, and Florence. Each one left its special imprint on my heart, but none quite as much as the lessons I took away from the pasta cooking class we did in Florence. So I thought I’d share the top three take aways from the pasta class.
The cooking class was just a few blocks away from Ponte Vecchio. So of course on our way to the class, my sister and I grabbed a Nutella stuffed cornetto and ate it alongside the river overlooking il ponto famoso—the famous bridge! I felt my heart asking over and over again: “Is this truly my life right now?!” After we wiped the Nutella off our lips and missed the turn to our cooking class only to retrace our steps through the narrow streets—i vicoli—we finally made it there (mind you, we were still 4 minutes early).
We walk inside and a small group of 8 people or so are gathered in a room, some on couches, others still standing. There’s a palatable excitement in the room. I look over on the wall and see a sign that says “Dolce far niente” which means “the sweetness of doing nothing.” I’ve already written an article on this Italian philosphy. You can find that article here. On another wall reads a quote that says:
“The most important ingredient is love.”
Class begins. We add an egg to our pre-portioned bowls of flour (1 egg for every 100g of 00 semolina flour) and each start mixing with our hands—just like any Italian nonna does! My sister and I happen to be next to the most wonderful couple who we learned had been married for several decades. As we are rolling out our dough and in-between the guidance from the teacher, we learn that this couple had spent their first week in Italy in the hospital because the wife had an appendicitis. You’d never know this couple had been through such a stressor just a fews days prior to the class. I suppose that’s the power of pasta! This made me think: making pasta isn’t just about the ingredients, it’s about the connection and conversation you have while making it. Although I never got to meet my Italian nonna, it made me think, had I been able to roll out pasta alongside her we’d have the most pleasant and meaningful conversations. Perhaps that’s where so much wisdom is shared amongst friends and family. You don’t just make pasta, you make memories that last.
Class continues. We roll out the dough using a wooden “chitarra” (it looks similar to a guitar) to make fettuccine and a small square stamp-like object to form tortellini. Our hands are covered in flour and our faces covered with smiles. Laughter fills the room like a musical serenade and many share their special connection to Italian culture. After all the dough is carefully formed, we all head to the table while the pasta cooks. When making fresh pasta, it only takes a few minutes to cook once added to a pot of hot water (salted!). We sip our wine as we snack on taralli, a common Italian cracker. Does life get better?
Soon after, the pasta is served. There’s a special bond about preparing a meal together, especially one that has so much history and cultural pride as pasta does. The meal is delicious. As we eat together, I realize there’s an art to making the texture of fresh pasta perfect—not too thick, not too thin, and definitely not gummy. If there’s anything I’ve learned about the Italians—other than their love for good food!—it’s that they are incredibly affirmative and encouraging. Our chef-teacher comes to join us at il tavolo and remarks on the pasta we made being the best he’d have all day (mind you, it was his first and only class of the day. But that’s unnecessary information). Class finishes and in full Italian style we all hug each other goodbye. No longer strangers, but famiglia.
As I reflected after the class, I realized why the experience felt so meaningful. As I’d read on the wall: “The most important ingredient is love”, I realized more deeply what that meant. For Italians, pasta is an art. It’s about quality. They take pride not only in the making of it, but the history and method behind making it. Truly, it’s full of tradition that dates back hundreds of years. Each shape of pasta is paired properly with a different sauce which is carefully paired with a complementary wine.
I believe if we all crafted our lives with the same attention and care as Italians make pasta, our lives would change drastically! What better way to live than to focus on creating our lives artfully, focusing on the quality of the things that surround us (quality of relationships, our habits, nourishment, emotional wellbeing, etc) and connecting with the roots that make us who we are?
I hope this helps you feel the warmth and coziness of remembering your own family traditions. And perhaps you can embrace and gain inspiration from the delight of Italian culture by making yourself a big pot of pasta! Buon appetito!
