The garden!
It all began when I went on holiday to Sardinia with a friend’s family in my early 20’s and I took with me a book called Sweet Honey, Bitter Lemons by Matthew Fort. It told the story of the Guardian food writer pootling around Sicily on a Vespa called Monica, meeting Sicilian people and tasting Sicilian food, and it had me instantly hooked. Sadly, there were no similar books on Sardinia (perhaps I will write one, one day) but I felt it was fitting, and most crucially it described a sort of convivial way of eating, a wild landscape and a rustic, authentic cuisine that I fell for instantly. It also introduced me to the concept of the Agriturismo, a type of farm stay, where the owners hosted guests in the evening, providing a simple supper, prepared using whatever they grew/butchered/made/preserved themselves.
fresh ricotta!
At that moment, I knew I never wanted to own a restaurant, but I did want to own an Agriturismo. These blurred lines between home/restaurant, between formality/ease, strangers/family, farm/dining room, were what I loved. I have never liked the formality of restaurants, and I have rarely eaten my favourite meals in them either. I have eaten most of my favourite and most memorable meals in people’s homes (or perhaps in a back-alley trattoria/caff). The idea of the Agriturismo seemed the perfect compromise, the perfect grey area, and I love a grey area.
yes I love sheep. And yes I am quarter Welsh.
This book began something, as only books can, and that something has become my everyday life. It is no coincidence that almost all of my major decisions in my life have been made after reading a Really Good Book (I broke up with my first great love after reading a Jilly Cooper novel, but that’s a story for another day). Books, to the people that love them, have that power. When I moved to Sardinia, almost 10 years after reading it for the first time, I had Sweet Honey, Bitter Lemons in my head. And, as I spend every afternoon whilst the Tiny Saint sleeps painstakingly lifting clay tiles one by one from the ruin I have bought to turn into my long-dreamt-of Agriturismo, it is Matthew Fort, alongside a whole host of other writers (Patience Gray, Lesley Blanch, M F K Fisher, Gerald Durrell, Julia Child) that I hear in my head, urging me on.
Scenes from Anna Tasca Lanza cooking school
Sweet Honey, Bitter Lemons is so evocative in its description of both food and place, that it made me want to visit Sicily immediately, and I am absolutely thrilled to say that at last, I am; combining two great loves (one imagined, as I have never visited Sicily, only read about it) and one real (having now lived in Sardinia for 7 years). I will be teaching a workshop at Anna Tasca Lanza Cookery School next September, and it is, I can say with hand-on-heart, slightly weepy sincerity, a dream come true.
where I'm sure you'll spend many a pomeriggio...
These two islands, from what I can make out, have much in common; I won’t presume to say historically and culturally (though I’d like to read more on that either way) but definitely in the culinary sense. There is a tradition of simple, shepherd’s and fisherman’s fare, of both gutsy and delicate sheep’s cheeses of seemingly endless varieties, of abundant fresh seafood, of pungent olive oil, of strong wines, sweet grapes, ripe tomatoes, engorged aubergines, spiky artichokes. The produce and the flavours of these two major Italian islands seem naturally aligned, and I cannot wait to explore them further.
we'll make and eat Culurgiones
Of course I have stolen Fort’s title, but inverted it, because Sardinia turns everything upside down (expectations, culinary or otherwise) for here the honey is bitter and the lemons sometimes sweet (my father-in-law Mauro ate Limoni Dolci as a child, and we are hunting for a tree of or own to plant). I will be teaching all of my most beloved recipes: Culurgiones (Sardinia’s infamous sheep’s cheese, potato and mint ravioli), Seadas (a deep-fried parcel of molten fresh cheese doused in honey) alongside plenty of fresh fruit puddings, abundant salads, glossy pastas and delicious antipasti. I cannot wait to see the wild Sicilian landscape and to taste the produce it offers. As with all the workshops I do, there will be wine, stories and food without formality, and I already know I will never want to leave. I would absolutely love to see you there.
If you would like to find out more or book a place, just head to their site here.
I hope to see you next September.
this will be us all night.
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