Saying that food, in Italy, is more than simple nutrition means stating the obvious: years and years of Sunday lunches and holiday feasts at nonna’s place didn’t simply made our childhood memories sweeter, but taught us this little secret about our country. Eating means a lot, in Italy: it speaks of conviviality and love, of history and local heritage, of a past that shapes the future, of something we remain profoundly and undeniably proud of.  

Just like the arts, and culture in general, food is one of the shiniest precious stones in Italy’s own regal crown, unique and breathtaking in its simplicity. Indeed Italian food, just like the clearer of diamonds, doesn’t need much to cast its brightness around: pure ingredients, simple concoctions, respect for the past and a lot of love. And mind, as trite as the pairing food-love may appear, there is truth in it, especially in Italy, where eating becomes convivial joyousness, and offering food a sign of welcoming, of affection, sometimes a means to ease sorrow and pain, even.