Pici all’Aglione: The Bold, Garlicky Soul of Tuscany

Pici all’Aglione: The Bold, Garlicky Soul of Tuscany: A rustic dish with a rebel heart

When you visit the Tuscan countryside, you expect rolling hills, vineyards, and the occasional glass of Chianti. But if you find yourself near Siena and ask a local grandmother what’s for dinner, there’s a good chance she’ll say, “Pici co’ l’aglione.” And trust me — when she does, you’re in for something spectacular.

Pici is not your average pasta. Thick, hand-rolled, and eggless, it's a proud symbol of Sienese culinary tradition. Unlike more refined pasta varieties, pici has a rustic charm: uneven, chewy, and irresistibly satisfying. Making them by hand involves a rhythmic, almost meditative rolling motion called “appiciare,” passed down for generations. No machines. Just flour, water, salt—and a little muscle.

The sauce? Bold and unapologetic

The star of this dish is “aglione,” a giant heirloom garlic grown mainly in the Chiana Valley. Its cloves are enormous—sometimes the size of a plum—and surprisingly sweet. It lacks the sharp bite of regular garlic and instead brings a mellow, aromatic depth that fills the room as it gently sizzles in extra virgin olive oil.

This garlic-forward sauce doesn’t whisper. It sings — loudly and joyfully — with a mix of slow-simmered tomato, a touch of chili pepper, and generous shavings of Pecorino di Pienza, a cheese as proud and local as the dish itself.

Where to try it

To taste authentic Pici all’Aglione, head to small trattorias in Val d’Orcia or Montepulciano, especially in summer, when garlic is fresh and festivals abound. Don’t miss the Sagra del Picio in Celle sul Rigo—locals gather to roll, boil, and serve pici by the kilo under string lights and music.

Here’s a link to Visit Tuscany for travel inspiration and food events.

Also check out our article on another Tuscan specialty: Panzanella, the bread salad of summer

Want to make them at home?

Easy Pici Recipe (serves 4)
For the pasta:

• 300g flour (half 00, half semolina is ideal)

• Salt

• Warm water

• Extra virgin olive oil

Mix flour and salt, add warm water slowly until you get a firm dough. Rest 30 minutes. Roll out and cut into strips, then roll into thick spaghetti using your palms. Let dry slightly.

For the sauce:

• 500g tomato pulp

• 3 cloves of aglione (or regular garlic if needed)

• 1 chili pepper

• 60g grated Pecorino di Pienza

• 4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil

• Salt to taste

Sauté garlic in oil, add tomato and chili, simmer 20 minutes. Boil the pici, then toss with sauce and Pecorino. Serve hot with a glass of local red wine.

More than a dish: it’s a lifestyle

Pici all’aglione isn’t fancy. It’s not meant to be. It’s a reminder of slow living, of hands in dough, of strong flavors and stronger traditions. It speaks of a Tuscany that’s genuine and grounded—just like its people.

For more rustic recipes, don’t miss our post about Vincisgrassi, the noble lasagna of the Marche

Vincisgrassi: The Marchigiano Lasagna with a Noble Past

 When it comes to baked pasta, everyone knows lasagna—but have you ever heard of Vincisgrassi? If not, you're in for a delicious discovery. This rich and layered pasta dish is the pride of the Marche region in central Italy, and while it shares some similarities with its better-known cousin, it has a story— and a flavor — all its own.

Photo: Wikipedia

A Name Wrapped in Mystery (and Butter)

Legend has it that Vincisgrassi were created in honor of an Austrian general named Windisch-Graetz during the Napoleonic Wars. Supposedly, in 1799, a lavish banquet was prepared for him in the Marche, and this dish—layered, luxurious, and utterly unique—was born. Some believe the name is a distorted version of the general’s surname, Italianized and immortalized on dining tables across the region.

But whether this tale is fact or folklore, one thing is certain: Vincisgrassi aren’t just another lasagna. They're a symbol of Marchigiano hospitality, where rustic flavors meet aristocratic flair.

What Sets Vincisgrassi Apart?

Unlike the classic lasagna Bolognese, Vincisgrassi call for a very particular set of ingredients: chicken giblets (yes—crests, livers, gizzards), a generous dash of Marsala or Vin Santo in the pasta dough, and a velvety béchamel that’s blended into the meat sauce. The result? A dish that's deep, savory, and incredibly satisfying.

Here’s what goes inside:

• Fresh egg pasta made with a mix of soft wheat flour and durum semolina, enriched with butter and sweet wine.

• A meat sauce featuring minced beef and pork, plus finely cleaned chicken giblets sautéed with vegetables and spices.

• Béchamel sauce, added directly to the meat ragù to create a rich, creamy filling.

• Grated Grana Padano (or Parmigiano), layered between each sheet.

• Butter pats on top for a golden finish.

The cooking is slow—around 3 hours in total—but the reward is a dish worthy of celebration.

Where to Try Vincisgrassi in Italy

You’ll find Vincisgrassi at family-run trattorias and during local festivals in Ancona, Macerata, and throughout the Marche countryside. One of the best times to enjoy them is during autumn or winter, when hearty dishes are welcomed by locals and visitors alike. Look out for traditional food festivals like the Sagra dei Vincisgrassi in smaller towns — it’s here you’ll often find the most authentic versions.

A great place to start? Visit Marche lists culinary itineraries and local events where traditional foods like this take center stage.

Want to Try It at Home?

Making Vincisgrassi is a labor of love, but here’s a simplified version:

Quick Version:

1. Use ready-made lasagna sheets (fresh if possible).

2. Prepare a ragù with ground meat and chicken livers, sautéed with onion, celery, carrot, and a splash of wine. Simmer with tomato passata and broth for at least 1 hour.

3. Mix the ragù with béchamel sauce.

4. Layer in a baking dish: pasta, sauce, grated cheese — repeat.

5. Top with butter and cheese. Bake at 180°C (350°F) for 40 minutes.

If you’re feeling brave, try the full traditional recipe with handmade pasta and slow-simmered giblets—it’s a feast for the senses and a tribute to Italian culinary heritage.

Vincisgrassi and the Art of Slowing Down

In Italy, recipes like Vincisgrassi remind us of something essential: good food takes time. Whether you're stirring a béchamel or simmering ragù, the process itself becomes a ritual—one that's shared across generations. It's not just about feeding the body, but feeding the soul.

Next time you think of lasagna, think deeper. Think Marches, think history, think Vincisgrassi.

And if you're curious about more regional lasagna varieties, don’t miss our post on the many faces of Italian lasagna or explore the flavors of central Italy.

A Taste of Piemonte: The Magic of Brasato al Barolo

 

A Taste of Piemonte: The Magic of Brasato al Barolo - A dish born from wine and patience

I remember the first time I tasted brasato al Barolo in a cozy trattoria tucked into the hills of Langhe. The waiter brought it out steaming, deep red and glistening, with aromas of herbs, garlic, and aged wine wrapping around the table like a warm scarf. One bite—and I knew I had discovered one of Italy’s most soulful comfort foods.

What is Brasato al Barolo?

This classic Piemontese dish is the very definition of slow food. At its heart is a beautiful cut of beef (typically chuck roast or cappello del prete), marinated for hours in Barolo wine with vegetables, spices, and herbs. Then, it’s slowly braised until meltingly tender.

Barolo, known as the “king of wines,” lends its bold character—notes of dried cherry, rose, and tar—to the meat, creating a rich, complex sauce. Some say brasato al Barolo is less a recipe and more a culinary ritual, where time and wine work their quiet magic.

Variations across the North

While the brasato al Barolo is strictly tied to Piemonte, other northern regions have their own takes on wine-braised beef. In Lombardy, for instance, it might be cooked with Bonarda or Nebbiolo, and in Veneto, Amarone is a luxurious alternative. But Barolo remains the most iconic—and the most indulgent.

Where to try it in Italy

If you're traveling in Piemonte, especially in the areas of Alba, Barolo, or Asti, don't miss the chance to try brasato in its birthplace. Look for traditional osterie or agriturismi where the meat is local and the wine comes from the hills just outside the door.

Consider timing your visit with Fiera del Tartufo Bianco d’Alba in autumn, when brasato often appears on seasonal menus next to tajarin and fresh truffles.

Some great spots to try it include:

• Osteria dell’Arco (Alba)

• Trattoria del Bivio (Cerretto Langhe)

• Enoclub (Alba)

Try it at home: a simplified version

Want to bring a bit of Piemonte to your kitchen? Here’s a basic version to try:

Ingredients:

• 1 kg beef chuck or shoulder

• 750 ml Barolo wine (or another full-bodied red)

• 1 onion, 1 carrot, 1 celery stalk (chopped)

• 2 cloves garlic

• A few cloves, black pepper, bay leaves, and rosemary

• Olive oil, salt, flour

Instructions:

1. Marinate the beef in the wine with chopped vegetables and herbs for 12–24 hours.

2. Remove the meat, pat it dry, and sear it in olive oil.

3. Add flour (optional), then pour in the strained marinade and cook gently for 2.5 to 3 hours, until tender.

4. Blend the sauce and reduce if needed.

5. Slice and serve with creamy polenta or mashed potatoes.

La dolce vita, one forkful at a time

Brasato al Barolo isn’t just food—it’s an invitation to slow down, open a good bottle, and savor life like a true Italian. Whether you taste it in the heart of Piemonte or recreate it at home, let it remind you that the best things in life take time—and a little wine.

Link:

• Amarone della Valpolicella, Excellent wine
• Abruzzese Fried Cream: The Taste of Tradition
• Spinach and Ricotta Cannelloni

Novara’s Sweet Secret: The Simple Delight of Biscotti di Novara

 When I first tasted a biscotto di Novara, I wasn’t expecting much—just a pale, oval cookie tucked into paper like a little letter. But the moment it touched my tongue, I understood why this seemingly modest treat has been beloved for generations. Light as air, gently sweet, and so simple it almost vanishes... yet it lingers in memory.

A Bite of History

Biscotti di Novara date back to the 16th century and, like many great culinary inventions, they have monastic origins. Nuns from Novara used to bake them as a way to welcome visiting bishops and nobles. Their name is a bit misleading—these are not “twice-baked” like the famous cantucci, but rather delicate, oven-dried wafers made with just four ingredients: eggs, sugar, flour, and a whisper of vanilla.

They were designed to be light and digestible, and their simplicity made them perfect for long storage and easy gifting. That’s why they’re still often sold wrapped in carta velina (tissue paper), a nod to the old tradition.

Ingredients and Regional Variations

What sets these cookies apart is their absence of fat: no butter, no oil. Just egg whites, yolks, and sugar whipped until light, then mixed with flour. Some bakers in Piedmont add a hint of lemon zest or a touch of vanilla to modernize the flavor slightly, but the core of the recipe remains untouched.

You’ll find similar styles in other parts of northern Italy—like lingue di suocera or pasta di meliga—but Novara’s biscuits are unique in their spongy crispness and understated elegance.

Where to Taste Them

If you’re ever in Novara, just west of Milan, head to one of the historic bakeries like Camporelli, which has been making biscotti since 1852. They still use the traditional wooden molds and original recipe. You’ll spot these biscuits in elegant paper packets in pastry shops throughout the Piedmont region.

They’re often served with zabaglione, dipped in tea or coffee, or offered to children and the elderly as a gentle snack. You might also find them at local festivals and small town fairs, especially in spring and autumn.

Curious to explore more regional sweets? Try reading about Sicily’s cassatelle or the almond cookies from Sardinia!

Want to Try Making Them?

Here’s a super simple version of the recipe you can try at home:

Ingredients:

• 3 eggs

• 120 g sugar

• 120 g flour

• A few drops of vanilla extract

Instructions:

1. Whisk eggs and sugar until pale and fluffy (about 10 minutes).

2. Gently fold in sifted flour and vanilla.

3. Pipe small ovals onto parchment paper.

4. Bake at 150°C (300°F) for 12–15 minutes, or until barely golden.

Let them cool completely—they should be dry and crisp. Store in an airtight tin or wrap in paper, just like the nuns used to do.

The Italian Way

What I love about biscotti di Novara is how they reflect an essential truth of Italian cuisine: less is more. It’s not about flashy flavors or fancy techniques. It’s about purity, balance, and honoring tradition.

So next time you want to impress someone with something delicate and unexpected, skip the chocolate lava cake and bring out a tin of these featherlight wonders. They might just whisper their way into someone’s heart.