Tuscany with friends

Itinerary | The trip report is a work in progress (sneak preview here) so in the meantime ...

Here's a bit about our cooking class in Florence...

I traveled to Italy with my husband, Brian, and another couple in March, 2006, staying at a rented villa in Tuscany for a week. A highlight of the trip was a cooking class in Florence at Divina Cucina (Via Taddea, Florence). I had won a class for two (valued at $375 per person) through a contest on SlowTrav.com.

On the morning of the class we awoke to a dazzlingly sunny day. I had train seats prepaid from Trenitialia.com and it was supposed to be a 10-15 minute drive to the station in Rignano Sur Arno. To be safe we left 30 minutes early. The drive was easy and enthralled us with an unfolding panorama of olive groves gilding the hills. The view of the tiny and very full parking lot was not so nice, however. We saw one space — a parallel one — obviously meant for a Fiat Panda, not a mid-size Nissan toting four Americans. We drove aimlessly around the village and finally stopped for me to roll down my window and ask a police officer "Dove parcheggio?" "Completo?" he inquired … "Si, completo," I replied. He responded in a flood of Italian, of course incomprehensible to me, and gestured down the street. We took this as an invitation to look further, but when the train’s time came and went with no space (no space not marked by an ominous warning sign, that is) we decided to just drive into Florence.

We made it without incident (other than a few wrong turns) and parked fairly near the Divina Cucina cooking studio and walked to her place. We were greeted by Judy Witts Francini (“Diva”) calling out from the end of the street, where she was waiting outside for us. She immediately enveloped us in her enthusiastic and expansive personality as she told us about our fellow classmates; an Australian winemaker, a housewife from New York sent by her husband to learn to cook for him and Sting's chef.

Judy generously invited our friends to accompany us on the market tour portion of the class. Our classmates arrived and we set off on foot down the narrow cobblestone street for the nearby Central Market, San Lorenzo. Our first stop was for fortification -- cappuccinos at a bar inside the market. Judy explained that they turned on the espresso makers at 4 each morning and run them nonstop, for the best-tasting coffee.

The market tour was a feast for all senses. Judy's ebullient manner made it even more fun. We paused to meet her various suppliers including her adorable artichoke man and exclaimed over the beautiful fruits and vegetables. I never understood the fuss about balsamic vinegar or how it could be so expensive. That was before I tasted 50-year-old balsamic, and converted. We started with 12-year old, which was lovely. The tasting drops got tinier as the age — and the price — went up. By the last taste, it was so thick it barely tricked out of the bottle, and had a gritty sumptuous mouthfeel.

We tasted some beautiful pecorino sheep's cheese then, from a family farm with only 200 sheep. We started with a soft and creamy fresh cheese and worked back through varying levels of aged cheeses.

Judy bought all the ingredients for our meal — pears and pecorino for the homemade ravioli; artichokes, cherry tomatoes and blood oranges for the contorno (side dish); and incredibly fresh yellowfin tuna steaks, hacked right off the fish, with lemon and oregano for the sauce. Oh, and gorgeous strawberries for the dessert.

Leaving the market we observed a young apprentice butcher wearing what looked like a chain mail apron to protect his vitals as he learned to wield the massive butcher knives. Carrying our booty from the market we crowded into Casa del Vino to have our wine selected. We shared wonderful little sandwiches of marinated cherry tomatoes, split and filled with capers, cheese, and anchovies. A glass of prosecco each and we were in good form.

The last stop was for bread. Now laden with everything we needed for some serious cooking, we tramped to Judy's apartment, and got to work.

First we prepared dessert, in order to let it chill. We made panna cotta, by dissolving fish gelatin sheets in water and adding to heavy cream cooking on the stove. It went into little glass dishes to set while we prepared everything else. Judy explained that in the more powerful American refrigerators we wouldn't need nearly as much time for the dish to set. We sliced strawberries and added a little sugar. The sugar would draw the moisture out of the berries and combine to make a sauce.

We started the artichoke dish next, by learning how to peel and chop artichokes. As we chopped them they got a bath in vinegar water to prevent browning. We sliced garlic which went into a cold pan of olive oil — putting it in hot oil burns the garlic, Judy taught us. The artichokes went in the garlic oil, along with halved cherry tomatoes, some freshly squeezed blood orange juice and water to cover. It burbled along wafting tantalizing aromas while we continued with our other preparations.

Judy demonstrated the difference in lighter low-gluten flour, good for pasta that's served as a first course, and heavier, semola (semolina) flour, suitable when you want a heartier, filling pasta. With nothing but an egg and the flour, Brian made pasta dough, and Judy taught us to use the pasta rolling machine. I grated pecorino and we made the filling for the ravioli; tiny pear slices, pecorino and ricotta.

Once the pasta sheets were rolled out, we learned how to make various shapes, and filled them all with the creamy pear filling. They were dropped into a large pot of boiling water, and Judy made the simple and delightful sauce — melted butter, lemon zest and fresh mint. It was time to eat!

We sat down in the sun-drenched dining room with glasses of white wine and enjoyed the fruits of our labors. The ravioli was divine. We had just enough to whet our appetites for the main course, which was the tuna steaks, seared just a few minutes on each side and left vividly red and cool in the center, then bathed with olive oil, oregano and lemon juice, with a little leftover blood orange juice for good measure. Judy expertly removed the tuna from the bone as she explained that the hot fish attracted the cold sauce, soaking it right up. We sat back down to our tuna and artichokes, and the serious eating began. Conversation was fun, and naturally revolved a lot around food. I had seconds of the tuna. That was a tactical mistake, however, as dessert was still to come. Judy recommended I stand up for a few minutes and take some deep breaths to help prepare myself for the final course.

The panna cotta had set perfectly, and she spooned the lovely strawberries in sugar sauce on top, and brought out the 30-year old balsamic. "Let me pour it for you," she told Brian, "because I know you won't pour enough." She generously streamed the thick, rich sauce over the strawberries, and I followed suit.

Facing a gorgeous bowl of creamy panna cotta topped with vibrant strawberries and smothered with aged balsamic, I longed for a more expandable stomach. I put forth my best effort and managed to finish all the berries, and scrape every last little bit of precious balsamic off the panna cotta, but just couldn’t finish the bowl. I had been skeptical when Judy told us we wouldn't need dinner, but now I didn't think I'd be able to eat for days.

Unfortunately, the class was drawing to an end. It had been one of those rare and wonderful travel experiences that transports you completely into what you are doing, with no thought to the rest of the day's itinerary, or where the next meal would be, or what time you have to get up in the morning in order to squeeze in all the sights. It was totally engaging, in-the-moment fun. Unfortunately, it was so fun that we were quite late meeting our friends at the Duomo to climb the Dome, and had to rush off to find them.

Judy stressed that it's not about learning recipes, but techniques. She's quite right of course, and with our new repertoire, I anticipate better-than-ever meals at our house. Especially after our shopping spree when we got back home, stocking our kitchen with a pasta roller, juice squeezer and new ridged skillet that will be perfect for searing our own tuna. Too bad there's not a Duomo anywhere near here to climb to allow me to eat like that every day…

For information on Divina Cucina cooking classes, visit www.divinacucina.com. I won our class as a prize on SlowTrav.