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.

Bell Peppers: Summer’s Most Colorful Delight

 From farmers' markets to family kitchens, here's why Italians adore their "ortaggi del sole"

I still remember the first time I saw a stall overflowing with peppers at a market in southern Italy. The sun seemed to bounce off their shiny skins—red, yellow, green, even orange—like they were trying to outshine the tomatoes nearby. A vendor caught me staring and said, “Questi sono l’estate!” These are summer! And he was right.

A Rainbow of Flavors and Shapes

Bell peppers—“peperoni” in Italian—are much more than a colorful sidekick. They come in all shapes and personalities: the squat Dutch ones perfect for stuffing, the long “corno di bue” (bull's horn) peppers that melt beautifully into stews, the sweet green “friggitelli” made for frying, and the robust red Asti giants, ideal for roasting.

What makes them special isn’t just the variety—it’s their versatility. Sweet or slightly bitter, depending on the color, peppers bring depth and personality to any dish. Yellow and orange ones have a mellow sweetness, reds are rich and intense, and greens? A little more edgy and herbaceous.

From Rustic Roasts to Elegant Bakes

One of my favorite ways to enjoy them is in baked rolls—a simple, rustic dish that turns into something magical. Roast the peppers until charred, strip away the skin, and roll them around grilled zucchini and fresh tomato wedges. Topped with olive oil and Parmesan, then baked until golden—these are a must-try either warm or at room temperature. And if you're feeling a little indulgent? Slip in an anchovy or a slice of ham for an extra kick.

And then there’s the rice-stuffed version, a classic in many Italian homes. Whole roasted peppers filled with herb-scented rice and finished with a drizzle of anchovy-infused oil. Whether served hot or chilled, they’re a crowd-pleaser.

For meat lovers, try guinea fowl with tricolor peppers and cannellini beans. It’s hearty, aromatic, and proof that peppers pair beautifully not just with veggies, but with poultry and even rabbit.

Shopping Tips from Italian Kitchens

To pick the perfect pepper, look for tight, glossy skin and a firm stem. Avoid wrinkles or softness—they mean the pepper’s past its prime. Italians often enjoy them raw in salads or quickly sautéed to keep the crunch, but for anyone with a sensitive stomach, roasting and peeling them is the way to go.

Want to go the extra mile? Try your hand at making caponata, a rich vegetable medley with peppers, eggplants, and tomatoes. Or pair them with tuna and anchovies for a Piedmontese flair. Some even turn them into jams or sauces to accompany meat dishes.

What About the Spicy Cousins?

Don’t confuse sweet bell peppers with their fiery cousins—the peperoncini piccanti. These little guys come with a warning label (or should!). The heat lives in the seeds, so remove them carefully. A soak in hot or cold water helps tame the fire if needed. Great in moderation, they can jazz up everything from pasta sauces to marinades.

Where to Taste Them in Italy

If you’re pepper-obsessed like I am, visit Carmagnola in Piedmont, home to one of Italy’s most celebrated pepper festivals. Or head to Naples for a street-side snack of fried friggitelli. And in Sicily, you’ll find peppers starring in caponate and “cianfotta” vegetable stews that capture the essence of southern summers.

Venetian Liver: A Bold Dish with a Soft Heart

A dish born in the foggy heart of Venice

Picture yourself wandering through the alleys of Venice on a misty evening, when the lagoon’s humidity creeps into your bones and you need something rich, warm, and unapologetically local. That’s when you discover fegato alla veneziana—Venetian liver—a dish that may raise an eyebrow at first, but wins over hearts (and palates) with its surprising tenderness and sweetness.

Dating back to Roman times, when liver was cooked with figs to mask its strong flavor, this dish evolved in Venice using onions instead, those golden pearls of sweetness from the surrounding countryside. The result? A perfect balance of bold and mellow, rustic and refined.

The beauty of simplicity: liver and onions, Venetian style

The ingredients are few, but the harmony they create is anything but simple: thinly sliced veal liver, sweet white onions, extra virgin olive oil, a touch of butter, white wine, salt and pepper. That’s it. No tricks, no frills.

The key? Patience. The onions are slowly stewed until meltingly soft and golden, almost like a jam, and only then is the liver added, cooked quickly to keep it tender and rosy inside.

Each forkful is a meeting of land and history: the intense flavor of liver softened by the gentle sweetness of the onions, all tied together with the aroma of wine and the richness of Venetian tradition.

Where to try it in Venice (and beyond)

If you’re lucky enough to be in Venice, look for this dish in osterie and bacari, the city’s traditional taverns. Try:

• Osteria alle Testiere – tiny, elegant, and beloved by locals
• Trattoria al Gatto Nero in Burano, where traditional dishes meet postcard views
• Or during the Festa del Redentore (July), when local food fills the air along with fireworks

Beyond Venice, you might find it in other parts of the Veneto region, but always ask if it’s alla veneziana. The secret is in the onions!

A simplified home recipe

Ingredients (for 2 people):

• 300g veal liver, thinly sliced
• 2 large white onions
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 1 knob of butter
• 1/2 glass of dry white wine
• Salt and black pepper

Steps:

1. Slice the onions very thinly and let them stew gently in olive oil and butter for about 25 minutes.
2. When soft and golden, deglaze with the white wine and let it evaporate.
3. Add the liver slices and cook quickly (2–3 minutes). Season and serve immediately.

Serve it with soft polenta for the true Venetian experience.

Embracing the Italian love for contrast

What makes Venetian liver so charming is its contrast: intense yet delicate, ancient yet evergreen. It teaches us something about Italian cuisine—that beauty often lies in simplicity, and that every dish, even the humblest, carries a story worth savoring.

So next time you’re in Italy—or in your kitchen—give liver a chance. Venice might just surprise you.

Learn more about traditional Venetian cuisine on La Cucina Italiana. If you’re curious about other Northern Italian specialties, read about polenta: the soul of northern comfort food or explore risotto alla milanese for another rich yet elegant dish.

Discover the Taste of Liguria: Stuffed Zucchini Like Grandma Made

It was in the shade of a small olive grove in Liguria that I first tasted zucchine ripiene. A neighbor, nonna Pina, had brought a steaming dish to the table, insisting I try “just one.” Of course, I had three. That was the day I discovered that zucchini, when treated with care and a touch of tradition, can become the soul of an entire meal.

A coastal tradition wrapped in green

Liguria, that sliver of Italy squeezed between mountains and sea, has always been resourceful. Its cuisine is proof: simple ingredients, intense flavors, nothing wasted. Zucchine ripiene alla ligure—Ligurian-style stuffed zucchini—perfectly embody this spirit.

Unlike the meatier versions found in central Italy, Ligurian stuffed zucchini are often filled with a delicate blend of tuna, anchovies, capers, and herbs. The flavor is unmistakably Mediterranean: salty, herby, umami-rich. The addition of toasted pine nuts and Parmigiano Reggiano gives it texture and depth, while eggs and stale bread soaked in milk bind it all together in a creamy, satisfying filling.

Each bite is a blend of sea breeze and mountain air.

Where to taste them in Italy

If you're visiting Liguria, head to the towns of Camogli, Portovenere, or Finale Ligure—charming seaside villages where local trattorias still prepare this dish the old-fashioned way. Look for family-run places with handwritten menus. That’s where the magic happens.

Even better? Time your trip for a local sagra, a village food festival. In places like Civezza or Dolceacqua, you'll often find zucchini as the centerpiece of celebrations during the summer months.

And if you're passing through Genoa, make a stop at Eataly Genova, where Ligurian specialties—including stuffed vegetables—are prepared daily with high-quality regional ingredients.

Want to try them at home? Here's a simple version

You don’t need a Ligurian grandmother to enjoy these at home. Here's a simplified version that keeps the heart of the dish intact:

Ingredients (for 4 servings):

• 4 medium zucchini
• 1 can of tuna in olive oil (150 g), drained
• 2 anchovy fillets
• 1 small onion, finely chopped
• 2 eggs
• 1/3 cup milk
• 2 slices stale bread, cubed
• 2 tablespoons pine nuts
• 2 tablespoons grated Parmesan
• 1 tablespoon capers, rinsed
• Olive oil, pepper, and thyme to taste
• Breadcrumbs for topping

Steps:

1. Boil the zucchini whole for 5–6 minutes. Cool in ice water, then halve lengthwise and scoop out the flesh.
2. In a pan, sauté onion and anchovies in olive oil. Add zucchini flesh and cook briefly.
3. Toast pine nuts in a dry pan.
4. Soak bread cubes in milk.
5. In a food processor, blend tuna, pine nuts, capers, and soaked bread until smooth.
6. Mix with the zucchini mixture, add Parmesan, beaten eggs, thyme, pepper, and a spoonful of breadcrumbs.
7. Fill zucchini halves with the mixture, sprinkle with breadcrumbs, and bake under the broiler at 250°C (480°F) for about 10 minutes until golden.

Why it’s more than just a recipe

Stuffed zucchini in Liguria aren't just a dish—they’re an emblem of a way of life: one that values frugality, flavor, and time shared around the table. Preparing this dish connects you to generations of cooks who knew how to make a little go a long way, turning pantry staples into a coastal masterpiece.

So next time you're craving something wholesome and deeply Italian, skip the pasta and give zucchine ripiene alla ligure a try. You might just find yourself dreaming of that olive grove, too.

Want to explore more Ligurian flavors?
Try our post on pesto genovese or discover the humble magic of focaccia di Recco.

Zeppole di San Giuseppe: A Sweet Tale of History, Culture, and Identity

In the heart of March, as the air fills with the irresistible scent of frying and pastry cream, southern Italian bakeries prepare to celebrate one of the most heartfelt popular traditions: the Feast of Saint Joseph, on March 19. On this day dedicated to the putative father of Jesus—a symbol of humility and hard work—people honor not only the paternal figure but also a masterpiece of traditional pastry: Zeppole di San Giuseppe. 

Historical and Anthropological Origins

The origins of zeppole are lost in the mists of time, intertwined with pagan rituals, folk religiosity, and social transformation. Some scholars trace their roots back to the ancient Roman Liberalia festivals, celebrated on March 17 in honor of Bacchus and Silenus, where various types of fried dough were offered to the gods or consumed communally.

With the spread of Christianity, many of these rituals were "redirected" toward Christian figures and calendar dates: March 19 became Saint Joseph’s day. Particularly in southern Italy, Saint Joseph took on great significance: patron saint of the poor, of carpenters, and of fathers, he became a symbol of protection and support during times of hardship. In many southern communities, March 19 is still marked by elaborate food altars and shared meals, reflecting the ancient values of hospitality and solidarity.

But when did zeppole, as we know them today, actually come into being?

A Pastry's Journey: From Street Food to Neapolitan Art

The modern zeppola—fried or baked, topped with custard and a candied cherry—is a creation of Neapolitan pastry-making excellence. The first written record dates back to 1837, thanks to Neapolitan chef Ippolito Cavalcanti, Duke of Buonvicino, in his recipe book Cucina teorico-pratica, written partly in the Neapolitan dialect.

Cavalcanti described a recipe already quite similar to today’s version, but the modern zeppola was likely perfected between the late 19th and early 20th centuries in Neapolitan pastry shops. According to tradition, it was a street fryer in Naples—cooking over large open flames—who popularized them. It was more than food: it was public ritual, theatrical performance, and sweetness combined—a perfect metaphor for Neapolitan culture.

A Culinary Symbol

Anthropologically, zeppole di San Giuseppe are more than just dessert. They are a ritual food loaded with symbolism: the frying (technically a "sacred fire" of transformation), the custard (evoking maternal nourishment), the sour cherry (a balance between sweetness and acidity), and the spiral shape, suggesting cycles, continuity, and protection.

Zeppole are a clear example of how food in Mediterranean culture serves as a language of identity, a communal rite, and a symbol of shared memory. Preparing zeppole is, in many families, a transmission of feminine knowledge—a domestic liturgy that reaffirms intergenerational bonds. 

Traditional Zeppole di San Giuseppe Recipe

Ingredients (for about 10 zeppole):

For the choux pastry:

• 250 ml water

• 100 g butter

• 200 g all-purpose flour

• 5 medium eggs

• A pinch of salt

For the pastry cream:

• 500 ml whole milk

• 4 egg yolks

• 150 g sugar

• 40 g cornstarch (or all-purpose flour)

• Zest of one organic lemon (or a vanilla bean)

For decoration:

• Amarena cherries in syrup (or fresh, if in season)

• Powdered sugar

For frying (if you choose the fried version):

• Peanut oil or other neutral frying oil

Method:

1. Make the choux pastry:

• In a saucepan, bring the water, butter, and salt to a boil.

• Once boiling, add the flour all at once and stir vigorously until the mixture pulls away from the sides of the pan.

• Let cool slightly, then add the eggs one at a time, mixing well after each addition until smooth and glossy.

2. Cooking:

• Pipe the dough into rings using a piping bag with a star tip, forming them on small squares of parchment paper.

• Fried version: Drop the parchment and dough into hot oil (170°C / 340°F). The paper will detach after a few seconds—remove it and continue frying until puffed and golden.

• Baked version: Bake in a preheated oven at 200°C (390°F) for 20–25 minutes, then another 10 minutes at 160°C (320°F) with the oven slightly ajar to dry them out.

3. Make the pastry cream:

• In a saucepan, bring the milk and lemon zest (or vanilla) to a boil.

• In a bowl, whisk the yolks, sugar, and cornstarch together.

• Slowly pour in the hot milk, whisking constantly, then return the mixture to the heat.

• Stir until the cream thickens, then remove from heat and let cool.

4. Assemble:

• Use a piping bag to fill the center and top of each zeppola with pastry cream.

• Garnish with a cherry and dust with powdered sugar.

In Conclusion: A Dessert That Tells a Story

Zeppole di San Giuseppe are the perfect example of food as a cultural archive: every bite tells a story of ancient rituals, devotional practices, artisanal creativity, and community spirit. In a world that’s increasingly globalized, this dessert reminds us that culinary memory is a form of cultural resistance and a celebration of identity.

Abruzzese Fried Cream: The Taste of Tradition

Abruzzese Fried Cream: The Taste of Tradition

Abruzzese fried cream is an irresistible specialty, often served as an appetizer or side dish on special occasions. With its perfect balance between the softness of the cream and the crunchiness of the coating, it delights every palate.

These golden bites are a staple on holiday menus such as Christmas, Easter, and Carnival, accompanying other fried delicacies like battered vegetables and stuffed snacks.

Interestingly, although it is sweet, fried cream is traditionally enjoyed alongside savory dishes, a custom reminiscent of the sweet semolina included in the gran fritto misto alla piemontese (Piedmontese mixed fried platter).

Abruzzese Fried Cream: The Recipe

Ingredients

• 500 ml whole milk
• 100 g sugar
• 50 g all-purpose flour
• 4 egg yolks
• Zest of 1 organic lemon
• 150 g breadcrumbs
• 100 g flour for coating
• 2 whole eggs for coating
• Vegetable oil for frying, as needed
• 1 pinch of salt

Preparation of Abruzzese Fried Cream

1. In a saucepan, heat the milk with the lemon zest, making sure not to bring it to a boil.
2. In a bowl, whisk the egg yolks with the sugar until the mixture becomes light and fluffy. Add the sifted flour and a pinch of salt.
3. Remove the lemon zest from the milk and gradually pour it into the egg mixture, stirring constantly to prevent lumps.
4. Transfer the mixture back to the saucepan and cook over low heat, stirring continuously until it thickens into a dense cream.
5. Pour the cream into a baking dish lined with parchment paper, leveling it to a thickness of about 2 cm. Let it cool completely in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours.
6. Once firm, cut the cream into squares, diamonds, or rectangles.
7. Coat each piece first in flour, then in beaten eggs, and finally in breadcrumbs, ensuring they are fully covered.
8. Heat a generous amount of oil in a pan and fry the cream pieces until golden brown.
9. Drain on absorbent paper and serve hot.

They can be enjoyed as they are or with a pinch of salt to enhance the contrast of flavors. If you're a fan of Italian fried dishes, you might also like our guide to authentic Italian fried appetizers!