Sara Waxman, OOnt, is an award-winning restaurant critic, best-selling cookbook…
Travelling and tasting my way through Italy to find the best of each of the iconic foods of land and sea is a challenge. Why does pasta taste better here than it does at home? Why is it more fun to drink a glass of wine at an outdoor cafe in Italy? Why does dinner at 10:00 in the evening seem perfectly normal? Veni, Vidi, Vici. In the famous Latin words of Caesar, “I came, I saw, I conquered.”
THE PASTA
The romance of pasta began centuries ago when the Roman legions stored their grain here in Gragnano. Today this little village of 27,000 people supplies 15.5% of the Italian export of pasta and has received the Protected Geographic Indication Designation.

It is fascinating to tour through the small plant of Pastificio dei Campi with the affable Giuseppe Di Martino. “There is something more to our pasta. We use a bronze dye,” he explains. The extrusions through shape makers are made of bronze instead of Teflon. Teflon makes it all work 10 times faster and gives a very smooth and slippery surface and interior. Bronze makes it rough, and those tiny micro fractures increase the surface contact to the water. And to the sauce. The tiny rough particles make an emulsion with the sauce and it coats the pasta. The sauce stays on the pasta and not in a pool at the bottom of the bowl, so you need less sauce and less oil.
“This makes pasta be the thing it was invented for,” he smiles, “to get the sauce inside your mouth.”
Who knew? I will never look at an order of pasta in a restaurant in the same way again. “Every shape was made for a particular sauce,” says Giuseppe. “In the same way that every dress requires a particular pair of shoes. For example, spaghetti does not go with Bolognese, spiralle goes with Bolognese.”

“All the wheat used to make our pasta is grown within 70 to 80 miles of the factory,” he explains. “We have used Google Maps and, on each box, there is a production date. Put that code on your website, and Google Maps takes you to the field. There is a picture of the farmer; a picture of the field; the date of seeding; the date of harvesting. Each box of pasta has photographs of the people who work at the plant. It is a total tracking system.” Has there ever been a more intense sincerity and pride of production than this? It immediately gives me a total appreciation of the food I am eating, as well as a kinship with the producer.
When I eat pasta from Pastificio dei Campi in Gragnano, I am the last link in fulfilling the documented destiny of a sheaf of wheat. What a delicious responsibility.
THE OLIVE OIL

Flossolai 2021, A Guide to the World’s Best Extra Virgin Olive Oils, writes that Pruneti is a synonym of high quality. On arrival at Pruneti, I am so eager to taste for myself that I immediately run up the stairs to the second floor tasting room that overlooks their lands. Four generations of the family have been cultivating the olive trees on this land in San Polo in the Chianti region. Today there are 22,500 trees and an oil mill complete with chain storage and bottling facility. Approximately 40,000 litres of organic olive oil are extracted once a year in this state-of-the-art plant.
Brothers Paulo and Gionni Pruneti are totally hands-on in the process, and carry on the family tradition, bottling 3 varietals and one blend. The secondary crops are saffron and fields of gorgeous purple Iris, the traditional flower of Chianti, which is used in the perfume industry. The proof is in the tasting. Pruneti Silver Label Tradizione and Pruneti Gold Label Mono Cultivar have unique elements and top notes. They each have a lightness and strength, fresh and verdant, fruity, grassy and peppery. Yes, they are indeed exceptional, and I depart with a few bottles of golden olive oil. At home, out of respect for the Pruneti Gold Label, I bake fresh bread for dipping.

In Umbria, we stop in Spello, Perugia and visit Mario Ciampetti, who inherited his land and the mill from his grandfather. He cultivates the small Moraiolo olive that grows on the mountain side. “The Moraiolo,” the entrepreneur tells us, “is a very particular olive tree in the sense that it has a very low vigour, grows very little and is a late cultivar.” He has modified his machine to the speed of the grinding stone, extracting the oil slowly, thereby creating a less acidic flavor. While he is an unassuming and self-effacing man, his olive oil, Terre Rosse, is a superstar: USDA Organic, Biological, Biodynamic, Kosher and the first in Umbria to attain a DOP designation. His 2,500-bottle production is small and each bottle is stamped with the date of production and the best before date.
On a visit to California, he delivered a bottle to the renowned Alice Waters at Chez Panisse, and it was much appreciated. “In this world of chaos and confusion,” he says, “the DOP certification of Terre Rosse speaks for itself.”
THE STEAK

Lunch at the restaurant of Dario Cecchini in Panzano, Chianti is worth the trip, even if it is out of your way. The butcher shop is on the ground floor. People drive in for miles to purchase his special cuts. On a counter at the opposite side, they offer Antipasto: bread with lardo, olive oil, cheeses, charcuterie and a welcome glass of wine to guests who have come for lunch. The door to the Aging Room is open to show sides of beef. And Dario, the butcher-showman-chef, is amenable to photographs. Dario is dressed top to toe in red, except for a sparkling white apron.
His wife, Kim, is a California girl who came to Italy years ago to study the language–and the rest is history.
Time for lunch. Dining drama begins as we are ushered up to the 2nd floor and invited to sit at a long communal table. There is not an empty chair in the place. Swiss tourists have brought a case of assorted bottles of wine, which they plan to consume with lunch. Bottles of olive oils and wine, loaves of Tuscan bread and a market garden of raw vegetables are on the table. As well, there are generous portions of Chianti Sushi (steak tartare) offered. But the main event is what we are all watching and waiting for: steak cuts from the eight-foot tall Chianina cattle, found mainly in this part of the world. These enormous Steak Fiorentina Porterhouse cuts slowly sizzle on the huge open wood burning BBQ ovens.

Dario watches the process carefully, all the while entertaining us with conversation, answering questions and just having fun. The moment of truth: Dario rings a huge dinner bell, and with white towel-wrapped hands grasps two steaks right from the grill. Arms raised, clutching a steak in each hand, he shouts out: “To Beef or Not to Beef.” We all break out in applause for the triumph of the cow. Steaks are carved, and we are invited to consume as much as we like–and this we all do with zeal. Lunch at this small butcher shop in Chianti remains one of the most outstanding dining experiences of my life. He has starred in Netflix Chef’s Table and has a restaurant in the Mondrian Hotel in Hong Kong.
THE FISH
We are in luck and get a dinner reservation at Assunta Madre for 7:30. You won’t find this restaurant on the tourist track. Seated at tables are the faces we’ve seen in hundreds of Italian movies. Film directors, owners of movie studios, designers and financiers. Next to us, the director of Cinema Paradiso is intensely into a plate of homemade pasta with lemon. In fact, it was a film designer who designed the restaurant itself. And it is perfect, with brick wooden beams and black and white turn of the century etchings depicting life in Rome. Lamps hang low over the centre of tables showcasing the food, illuminating the room and softly flattering faces.

The razzle dazzle of ocean dishes begins with three different plates of fish and seafood carpaccio; fresh from the oven breads and olive oil as precious as perfume. And then I get it. Everything is raw, even the huge shrimp and scampi slit in half in the shell and draped over a bowl of ice. Johnny is renowned for his fresh fish. His family in Terracina owns fish markets. Every morning they get the fresh fish, he makes his choices, and the remainder goes to the public market.
For a few seconds, the words “When in Rome do as the Romans do,” flit through my mind. But no. Slightly sheepish, I ask that the seafood be cooked. Wordlessly, plates of raw shrimp and scampi are whisked away and returned, jump-fried with garlic and Italian parsley, followed by gnocchetti with light seafood sauce and a hint of cayenne. Pasta, of course, is the best from Gragnano. A whole spigelo fish with lemon and parsley comes with spritely frito misto of eggplant, squid and scampi. Next, Tuna Schnitzel. We have tasted eight courses with bottles of wine. Thank you, and no more, please. And so, comes a litany of desserts. It cannot get better than this, and yet it does.

We depart at 11:45 p.m. and there is still a lineup of the uber fashionable vying for Giovanni Johnny Michelucci’s tables. I suggest Assunte Madre to a jet-setting friend who has one night in Rome coming up. On his return, he tells me that this is the best restaurant he has ever been to in his entire life.
THE SPA
In Vino Veritas. “In wine there is truth,” and if truth be told, wine is really good for you. Resveratrol and antioxidants help keep our heart in good shape, and vino therapy, a wine massage, is also an excellent health promoter. So here we are in one of the world’s more important wine producing regions, at the Adler Thermea Spa in Bagno Vignoni in the Tuscan countryside, prepared to experience wine–inside and out. It is a haven for Italians and other Europeans, and remains exempt from typical North American style. From the balcony of my room, I overlook the thermal pools. There are circular areas where one stands while jets erupt intermittently to hit different parts of the body. Exhilarating.

At dinner, there is a luxurious buffet of salads and antipasti—a farmer’s market of raw and lightly steamed vegetables, flanked by trays of olive oils, vinegars and salad dressings. Breads are baked in the oven right in front of us. As loaves come out, they’re placed on the counter for us to choose and slice. Heavy beamed ceilings and a colonnaded glass roofed Centre Court is anchored by an aged olive tree. Maitre-d’ Manfredo is exemplary in his role. There is not a question he can’t answer, period. A new gourmet menu of main courses is offered at each meal.
Of course, there are exercise classes, pilates, stretching, a dynamic gym, and jogging on the trails. After a hike and picnic around the green velvet hills, it’s time to relax before a nap. I open the heavy door to the Grotto Salina, walk down the stairs to an underground salt bath and steam-sauna with Tuscan herbs.

Suddenly, I feel an absolute terror that I am locked underground by myself where no one will ever find me. I run up the stairs like a jack-rabbit, press a big red button, and I am out of there, and back into the lovely landscaped grounds, surprised and totally shaken. I will stick to the ever-changing daily excursion program of hiking, visiting the markets, wine tasting or any number of activities. The personality of the Adler is Swiss excellence and healthy natural Italian cuisine. Here there is a luxury of truth and purity as seen through the nature that surrounds us.
THE WINE
The road to the Ruffino Poggio Casciano estate winds up and up through the hills outside Florence. On the drive to Montemassi, the hilltop estate overlooking Florence, we stop to photograph the lush green, red and gold fields. Montemassi is the family home and is a living museum of their 150-year-old history. Ruffino was the first Italian wine to cross the ocean in 1913. And in fact, during prohibition in the US, it was sold in pharmacies as a reliever of stress. Stone walls lead us into a massive courtyard to a low-slung modern building. Inside we are surrounded by history. Full length portraits of the family and a collection of black and white etchings line the walls. Our hosts join us for lunch in the handsome dining room.

Sangiovese is the grape of the region. Drinking wine is natural to the populace. “Ruffino wines are not for prayers or special occasions,” they say, “they are part of the life.” Their philosophy is that wine is to be drunk with food, friends and family. Over pumpkin soup, zucchini quiche and fillet of beef, we enjoy a sampling of Ruffino wines, and discuss the fruits of the land and the history of the vineyards. “French wine,” they say, “is associated with nobles and the church, whereas in Italy wine is about the farmers.” It is the industry that has created romance and mystery around wine. Ruffino considers elegance, balance and drinkability to be the most important characteristics in their wines. From the terrace, in the early evening, we watch the red sunset behind the Tuscan hills, just as generations have done before us.
Sara Waxman, OOnt, is an award-winning restaurant critic, best-selling cookbook author, food and travel journalist and has eaten her way through much of the free world for four decades, while writing about it in books, newspapers and magazines. She is the Editor in Chief of DINE magazine.