Lucca, Tuscany. The walled city. Lucca was an independent state until 1847 and it is one of the last cities in Italy with such a well preserved Reneissance wall protecting it. It is known for its 100 churches, for Puccini and for its wealth caused by producing silk underwear (!) – although the latter is not very apparent today. Lucca has truly kept its Italian charm, with narrow streets, piazzas and small restaurants and shops, and its laid back atmosphere makes you feel like you’re in a small village – but you can truly get lost in the maze of Lucca’s streets.
It’s the beginning of September. I have exchanged my quirky pub flat in London for a gorgeous flat with paintings in the ceilings right on the steps of the Puccini Church where opera is performed almost every day of the year. It feels a slight step up from the coziness of my pub – this flat is glamorously Italian! The truth is – we have ended up in Lucca simply because I randomly had a request for a home swap there – but oh, what a lucky coincidence! It’s my best friend’s surprise 30th and she has requested that she wants a local pasta cooking course. The small print: she requested it on the Friday night and needs it to be on the Saturday Night. Now, my search almost fails, but then we get in touch with an AirBnb excursion offering Gnocchi making – asking if they can do a last minute course with us. The host, conveniently called Luca, responds: Si! It’s on!
6.30PM Saturday Night. Fighting with Google Maps. Wondering if we have to take the rental car out on the roads again – knowing we have already parked illegally on the inside of the walls. Prime parking spot (Until the fines started arriving).
Turns out Luca is our neighbour. Not as in the next town, but the house next door. We get some local Lucca wines from the local wine shop on the way and off we go! (If you have more time there are some excellent wineries surrounding Lucca – you can read more about that HERE)
Two young men greet us in a little flat. They are probably in their early twenties and we start wondering if we’re in the right place. In the beginning the conversation is a bit slow, but the more we learn about each other the easier it is. Their English is great. It almost feels like we’re at an Italian house party. There’s even an old piano. From Liverpool, where I studied. I might play.
Luca and his friend say they are students studying film in Lucca and that they set up the Gnocchi Course as a side hustle. Their aim is for it to be an authentic Tuscany dinner, how they would do it at home. The atmosphere is relaxed and casual. Wine in kitchen glasses, a wooden plate on the table. The boys get chattier. We’re given a selection of rosé and white wine, some nuts and a big potato each to mash with a fork. Off we go. Mashing till our hearts content. I make a potato tower.
Luca presents the Italian pasta flour. Gran Mugaino. It is finer than normal wheat flour. The boys discuss the usage of egg in pasta in Italian. One is from the South, one is from the North. You use eggs in The North, not in the South. Luca shows us how to crack eggs into the flour. We’re in Tuscany, after all. In between Pisa and Florence. In the North.
We mix the eggs with the flour, then the potatoes; poco a poco; little by little. You don’t want the dough to be too dry! It is a long process, but Luca is a good coach and we’re all given tasks to do whilst the chat continues. Smoothly now. We laugh. It’s like we’re old friends.
The dough is ready. We’re given a piece each. We roll it like a long sausage and cut it up into equal pieces. The gnocchi is rolled on the backside of a fork to get its traditional shape. I can’t quite get the right pressure – the birthday girl, however, is smashing it!The gnocchi pieces are spread across a baking tray and taken to a large pan filled with boiling water. You shouldn’t cook too many at a time! They’re ready when they float to the top. It only takes a couple of minutes.
We’re sadly not making our own sauce – but the boys prepare one pan with pesto and one with a traditional tomato sauce. The pans are put straight on the table. Italian home cooking. Not glamorous like the ceiling of our borrowed flat, but genuine and authentic. Our shoulders are low. We can make jokes now. And the food tastes absolutely fantastic! We open our local Lucca wines. House party. I play some jazz on the piano.
A third boy appears. He lives here too, but he is having problems with his girlfriend and explains in big hand gestures in Italian. We try to cheer him up. Talk about heartbreaks. Time flies and we want to see Lucca by night too. The boys decides to join us – show us around. We want dessert! The September air is still warm.
We walk through the town, sneak into their school library for a peak – even that is an old church! Out through the city walls to the most amazing ice cream shop; Le Bonta Gelato. The boys buy us ice cream. Now, I always thought I loved pistachio ice cream. Until that night, when I realise I’ve been robbed of proper pistachio ice cream my whole life. It tastes like something from heaven.
Back through the walls we get a taste of the night life. Bars with open doors and people dancing on the main piazza. Lots of youthful joy. And we’re there chatting away with our new friends.
The night ends with a shot of limoncello.
Bella Notte!
Scandi Gourmet Girl 