Lindsay Marie Morris

The tradition of La Settimana Santa, Holy Week, brings people out of their homes to watch and participate in various daily processions of statues through the streets. It's also a time to enjoy sweet bread, often flavored with anise, which is typical of the Lenten season. Among the favorite bread recipes is pani di cena—really cookies—which are shaped like crosses. While this "bread" is often served on Holy Thursday, you can enjoy pani di cena year-round. 

Food writer Enza Whiting features a pani di cena recipe on her blog, Enza's Quail Hollow Kitchen. Enza was born in Palermo and lived in the town of Valledolmo for the first four and a half years of her life. 

We discussed pani di cena and what Enza hopes her family and readers will take away from her recipe.

 

 

Tell us about your pani di cena recipe.

My grandmother made these cookies for us when we were kids. She would shape them, cutting them in the shape of a cross. They were always served on Good Thursday, right before Easter.

It was a Sicilian tradition in the church that the elders made these cookies. They would have these church communities or church groups aside from the priests, and whoever was the head of that community or that committee for that year would make these cookies for all of the other members of the committee. So they would make the pani di cena.

They were always made on Good Thursday, and they would get a sugar lamb. It was part of the tradition that they sacrificed for their community by creating these cookies and giving them out in all the towns. 

My mother told me the story about when my great-grandfather was the elder, and it was his turn to make these. My grandmother was maybe 15 or 16 years old, and she was the one who made them all. 

They didn't all have ovens in their homes, so the town had ovens that everybody would use. All the women would get together, bake the cookies, and then take them to the ovens to bake them in their local oven. I guess that's how they used to make their bread, too, because they didn't have ovens in their homes; they had to use a public oven to bake their bread. So it was very communal.

The other thing my grandmother would do for us was make the little crosses, but then she would also make pupa cu l'ova using the same dough. She would put a colored egg in it and bake it. My favorite thing on Easter was getting the hard-boiled egg with my cookie. 

Pani di cena is actually more of a cross between bread and a cookie. My grandmother's recipe is more of a cross between bread and a cookie. I call it a cookie; my mother calls it bread. When you bite into it, it is somewhat crunchier on the outside and tender on the inside. However, the inside has more of a soft cookie texture than the texture of bread that you would normally think of as soft bread. It is made with yeast. So, it is a yeast recipe, but the texture is different from that of some of the breads you will see. 

 

Why did you start Quail Hollow Kitchen?

Being Italian, food is a big part of your tradition. It's how we celebrate things; it's how we communicate with each other. 

I remember when we were kids, we had dinner together as a family every night, and my mother would make meals with whatever she had in the kitchen or the refrigerator because there wasn't a lot of money growing up. So, they had to be creative and use what they had available. But dinnertime was always sacred. That was a time when we sat down as a family.

My dad was really big into talking to us about what was going on in the world because he wanted us to really understand what was happening around us and how it impacted us. During those dinners, my parents also spent a lot of time talking about where they came from, what life was like for them growing up, and how different it was for us here because it was important that we appreciated all the sacrifices that happened to get us to where we were.

So, for me, food and our traditions have always been really important. We continue to talk to our kids about those things because I don't want them to forget about their heritage, their history, and what life was like for other people so that they can enjoy the things that they enjoy today. We do all of that around food. It always seems to be the center of these family functions, celebrations, and communications. 

I started Quail Hollow Kitchen mainly because my grandmother had passed away, and I was really worried that as my mom was getting older, I was going to lose all of her recipes. So she was able to carry on my grandmother's traditions with food, and I wanted to be able to somehow memorialize it so that even when I'm gone, my kids can still have access to all of that information. And it's named Quail Hollow because that is the street that I live on.

When I got into it, I realized that I really enjoyed all the different aspects of this website. So it's grown from there, but it still centers around all of our Italian dishes and foods, and really makes sure that all of our Sicilian foods are front and center, somewhere our family has access to.

 

 

What do you hope at-home bakers will take away from this cookie recipe?

Personally, for my family, because it's been a part of our family, and we have made this every year for as long as I can remember, I hope they understand that this has been handed down for many generations.

For other readers, I hope that they want to try it because it may be different from something that they're used to. Maybe they will learn something about how other people have enjoyed foods around the Lenten holiday and Easter that might be different from how they've celebrated it. 

It's really about keeping that Sicilian heritage and history going. I have other blogger friends who do similar things within their cultures. I think many of us out there hope that as the world continues to progress, we don't forget some of the things that made our families what they are. 

 

>>Get Enza's recipe here!<<

 

 

 

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Between Sicily's cannoli, cakes, and gelato-stuffed brioche, the island offers plenty of tempting sweet treats. But not everyone can partake.

 

Kasia Bos, who suffers from gluten intolerance, was tired of the lack of choices for people like herself. So, in 2022, she and her partner, co-founder Diego Di Giovanni, launched Terved, a Catania, Sicily-based company committed to not only meeting dietary needs but also exceeding taste and quality expectations. 

I caught up with Kasia and Diego to discuss Terved and its inspiration, the challenges the young entrepreneurs faced, how they balance tradition with necessary ingredients, how they build relationships, what Terved's future looks like, and their advice for aspiring entrepreneurs.

 

 

What inspired Terved?

Kasia: I had gotten prescribed a gluten-free diet because of problems with my intestine. So my doctor advised me to go gluten-free, and from there, it started this new world of gluten-free. 

Diego met me a little bit after I had started this gluten-free diet. We were both young, and we wanted to do something. We thought, "Why don't we do something about the problem many people have, which is that it's still impossible to be gluten-free?"  We turned it into something productive and beautiful.  

 

Tell us about your product offerings.

Diego: We focus on the more regional and typical products, such as the cannoli and brioche we use for ice cream. But then the demand and the market also asked us for more and different products. We also developed products such as donuts that are more international. We made muffins and mini tarts with pistachio and apricot jam. Right now, we are trying to evolve and adapt to the market demand to satisfy and cover all the possible scenarios that we can. 
 

What challenges did you face starting your business?

Diego: We started very young. I was 22, she was 18. So, we both didn't have much life experience to deal with failures. So the first nos were very hard to take. Also, it was difficult to co-work and have two minds, two ideas that had to meld together at the end of the day. 

The most difficult, from my point of view, is the financial part because business knowledge is something that we managed to get from studying from other people as well as from experimenting, from failures, and so on. But the financial part is tricky because to make money, you have to invest money. And when you are so young, you don't have money. No one wants to give you money. 

 

Terved Co-founders Kasia Bos and Diego Di Giovanni

 

What is your process for developing products?

Kasia: When we started, we thought, "We are in Italy. He's Sicilian. So what can we do? Where can we start? What do people need?" So we came up with the concept of cannoli and the brioche, the most typical Sicilian products you can find. 

We already had a small community of people who followed us during the beginning of our journey. So we would try recipes with them. People who had celiac connected with us, and we asked them, "Is this an interesting product? Could this be a better product?" We did a little quiz. 

The difficult part was actually making that product happen. So we went from making recipes at home to going to specialists who could actually make those products last. From there, it's just been about spreading the product as much as possible. 

 

How do you ensure there's no cross-contamination?

Diego: All the products are individually packed. So even when they arrive from the laboratory to the final destination, we make sure that they are one hundred percent safe.

  

Kasia: At the end of the day, it goes from the laboratory to the hands of the consumer without getting touched by anyone. 

 

How do you balance traditional recipes with the need for gluten-free ingredients?

Diego: Of course, the flavor is not the same because when you change the flour, you change both taste, texture, the proofing of the product, the softness, the air—a lot of things. But our goal is to make a gluten-free version that reminds us of the traditional products. We are trying to develop a product that is as close as possible to the original one. 

 

How do you build relationships with clients, customers, partners, and distributors?

Diego: It depends on where these customers are located, but let's say that from a broader vision, we have a first approach on email. We use LinkedIn a lot. We introduce our company and what we do and send a catalog and a company presentation. Then, if we make a call, for example, to discuss a possible partnership, we send samples. If they're here in Sicily, we go meet them.

In our packaging, we include a little bit of our story and how we started. On social media, we try to entertain and talk about, for example, what we ate for dinner. We also try to attend events and fairs so we can meet customers. 

 

What's been the most rewarding part of this journey?

Kasia: For me, at least, it's actually having a face-to-face with the final consumer. When the actual client comes to you or writes a message to you and says, "Oh my God, your brioches are amazing!" 

The whole point of doing this is connecting with those people. In person, it's even better because once or twice, we were walking on the street, and out of nowhere, someone popped up and said, "Please never stop. You're amazing!" 

Diego: That's very heartwarming and beautiful. I would also like to add that I was astonished when a company reached out to us and told us they would like to bring our cannoli to Boston. 

We started from Catania, a small city of 200,000 citizens. Now, we are bringing our products to Boston, Australia, and the UK, and it happened so fast. We have another possibility for Miami and another company in Boston. Having your product so far away from your hometown is almost unbelievable.

 

Terved brioches on display at a supermarket.

 

What does Terved's future look like?

Kasia: We want to create more products and products that maybe haven't been seen before. We want to create more options. Right now, our focus is on supermarkets to really get in the hands of as many people as possible with higher quality products.

 

Diego: We have so many products that we could create. Another thing that we are trying to do is bring to supermarkets not just another gluten-free company but a premium gluten-free company. Our goal is to create a variety that is not currently in the market, at least here in Italy.

 

Kasia: The U.S. is way more advanced in that supermarkets carry 20 different kinds of gluten-free breads and 50 types of cookies. In Italy, it's really bad. You see two companies where there should be more options.

 

What advice do you have for aspiring entrepreneurs?

Diego: We started with no experience, with no money, with nothing. We were very naive and a little bit reckless.

Surround yourself with experienced people. Try to listen because we gained knowledge from people who knew the business and knew more about life. Don't be scared of losing friends or sleep. Eventually, it's all going to be rewarded.

 

What experience do you want for your customers?

Diego: We just want them to feel listened to, not to be excluded.

Kasia: This is why we started, right? For them not to feel excluded. So when they eat, it's not like they have to think about it. It is just there. We want people to feel at ease.

 

 

 

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One of my favorite Sicilian treats as a child was torrone, a nut-filled nougat candy my Sicilian grandmother always had on hand, especially for the holidays.

I recently encountered a recipe for torrone in the pages of Giovanna Bellia La Marca's Sicilian Feast, recently reissued as an expanded edition of her 2004 book. 

"Torrone is such a part of Sicilian cuisine that no holiday goes by without it," says Giovanna. "It's delicious. Children love it; adults love it. So it's just part of our culture and kind of a symbol of Sicily."

Giovanna La Marca, who came to the U.S. from Sicily when she was 10 years old, also runs the Kitchen on the Cliff YouTube channel. The name is a nod to the fact that her kitchen is actually on a cliff overlooking Manhattan. 

Giovanna shared with me the history of torrone, how the Sicilian recipe differs from that of mainland Italy, and how this nougat treat has become a Sicilian symbol.

 

 

What is torrone?

Torrone is a nougat candy, and in Sicily, we make it with almonds and sugar or almonds and a combination of sugar and honey. 

It is very much tied to our history. Since antiquity, many people have invaded Sicily. There were the Greeks who made settlements all over Sicily, and they, of course, brought the trees.

The myth is that a boat carrying almond trees and grapevines was going to Puglia, the heel of Italy, which is very close to Greece. And the wind blew it to Sicily. 

But the sweets! Sicily is quite famous for its sweets. One of the great sweets is torrone, and another one is marzipan, which are little sculptures of fruits that are so lifelike that when you see them in the window of the pasticceria, it is just amazing to see the likeness and the artistry with which they are made. 

To achieve that, Sicilians already had almonds, but the sugar was brought by the Arabs around 700, and they planted sugarcane in Sicily.

An interesting side note of that is that the sugar industry in Sicily was dominated by the resident Jews. There was quite a large Jewish colony in Sicily, and they developed the sugar industry. 

Now unfortunately, in 1492, when Spain expelled the Jews, they expelled them not only from their own country but from all the places that they controlled as well, which included Sicily. The Sicilians had no quarrel with the Jews. In fact, the Jewish people really ran the sugar industry. So they waited six months. They didn't want to expel them. But Spain prevailed. And that ended the sugar industry in Sicily, which is a little-known fact but a very interesting one, I think.

 

How does Sicilian torrone differ from torrone found elsewhere in Italy?

Well, the typical torrone of Italy is white, and it's made with a meringue of sugar and almonds and sometimes other nuts and sometimes bits of citron and so on. It is poured on edible rice paper, and that's how it's served and cut. 

In Sicily, it is really almonds surrounded by crunchy caramel. It's very, very crunchy. It's actually a brittle. You can cut it with a knife, and you get all the cross sections of the almonds, which is very pretty. But you can also break it. It breaks in odd shapes, and that's another way that we usually serve it.

 

As a child, I had trouble with it because I didn't have the patience to let it melt in my mouth. I wanted to chew it, and chewing it was a job because it was really quite hard. 

I'm not talking about the soft caramel we all know. I'm talking about true caramel, which, if you pour into a greased bowl and turn the bowl upside down, you end up with a bowl made of caramel.

It's used that way for very high cuisine. In Sicily, we have two cuisines. We have home cooking, which is extremely rich and wonderful because it's influenced by all the invasions. Our invaders did contribute a great deal; they didn't just invade. They contributed to the language. They contributed to music, and they contributed to the food. 

 

What developed in Sicily in the Renaissance was a cuisine for the aristocrats. The cooks were generally trained in France, then came back to Sicily and became the monzu. These professional chefs worked for two entities: the church and the aristocracy. And that was an extraordinary cuisine. 

 

What does torrone symbolize for Sicily?

Well, it's something delicious, and sweets are generally the food that you get at festivals. They're always served at Christmas and for all of the feasts. Every Sicilian town has a patron saint and a feast for the patron saint. 

It really represents Sicily in its products because of the almonds of Sicily, particularly the city of Avola. Avola produces almonds that are called pizzuta, which means pointy almonds. They are very, very fragrant and very flavorful. That, of course, is due to the climate and the soil. In Sicily, the volcanic soil produces fruits and nuts with flavors you don't get otherwise.

Almonds are part of a very important festival in Agrigento. The almonds fruit in February. So, in February, Agrigento is filled with almond trees in bloom. The almond trees in bloom have such a heady perfume that you almost feel enveloped by the scent of the almonds and the almond trees. So there's a lot of folklore around it.

 

What was your goal with your cookbook, and what do you hope readers will take away?

I think I had very specific reasons for writing a book. I am a cook. I am a passionate cook. I have always loved to cook. I started when I was 10 years old. 

My mother cooked well, but she wasn't passionate about it. She had to have a perfectly orderly house and a floor that you could eat off of. My father did a lot of cooking, and he was very good, and I was his assistant. So if he made, say, risotto, I was the one who chopped the mushrooms. And the mushrooms for the risotto had to be about the same size as the grains of rice. So, I had a very good beginning. 

I met Italian Americans and Sicilian Americans, and they always said, "I remember my grandmother's cooking. It was so delicious. It was so wonderful. But she didn't leave any recipes, and I was too young to ask for recipes."

I heard this over and over again, so I thought, "I would like to write a cookbook that gives them Nonna's recipes."

 

My aim was to give typical and original recipes—not versions of, but the original recipes, the recipes that we all came up with and that our grandmothers cooked.

 

>>Get your copy of Sicilian Feast here!<<

 

 

 

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Have you gotten your hands on good-quality almonds? Try making some Sicilian almond cookies!

One to try: pizzicotti alle mandorle. Made with freshly blanched almonds, these holiday-perfect cookies are named for the way they are pinched using the thumb, forefinger, and middle finger before they are set in the oven.

 

I recently stumbled on a plant-based pizzicotti recipe on veganhotstuff.com. Many of the recipes Switzerland-based blogger Deborah Bolton has published are vegan versions of Italian dishes. She shared with me more about her version of this classic cookie and her zero-waste way of using chickpea liquid, aquafaba, as a binding.

 

 

Tell us about this almond cookie recipe and what inspired you to make it.

This almond cookie recipe originates from Southern Italy, particularly Sicily, where almonds grow abundantly in the warm Mediterranean climate. These cookies are called pizzicotti alle mandorle in Italian, where pizzicotti means pinches and mandorle is the word for almonds.

 

Pizzicotti alle mandorle are irresistibly crunchy on the outside with a soft, chewy center that melts in your mouth. I was inspired to make this recipe because I wanted to make a plant-based version that no one would be able to distinguish from the original. This recipe can be enjoyed by omnivores, vegans, and people with egg allergies alike.

 

What is the significance of this cookie recipe?

Almonds have always been significant in Italian culture, symbolizing good luck and prosperity. Pizzicotti alle mandorle embody this tradition and often appear during festive occasions and special gatherings. In Sicily, they are a cherished part of feast day celebrations and weddings, symbolizing good fortune and the sweetness of life. These traditional almond biscuits are often made using family recipes that have been handed down through the centuries. Skilled artisans and home bakers alike take pride in their meticulous preparation.

 

 

If you love almonds, you'll adore pizzicotti alle mandorle. Photo by Deborah Bolton.

 

How is your recipe different from the traditional cookie?

As always, I like to keep traditional recipes as authentic as possible but without the use of animal products. The only difference between my recipe and the traditional cookie is the absence of egg white, which I substituted with aquafaba. Aquafaba is the cooking liquid in a jar or can of chickpeas. It has similar emulsifying, foaming, binding, gelatinizing, and thickening properties to egg whites, and the taste is absolutely undetectable. This recipe turned out perfect, and no one could tell that they were vegan.

 

Another thing I like about using aquafaba is the fact it aligns with my zero-waste philosophy. Chickpea water normally gets thrown away. Using it in our recipes instead of eggs is far better than exploiting hens and costs nothing.
 

Are there any specific types of ingredients that work best for this recipe?

Yes. While it's possible to use either blanched or non-blanched almonds, I recommend using blanched (peeled) almonds because they yield an attractive-looking white cookie. In contrast, the brown skin on unpeeled almonds would result in a slightly darker cookie with brown flecks, which would be ideal for amaretti, for example, but not so much for pizzicotti. It's best to use ground almonds, also known as almond meal, rather than almond flour to ensure you get the right texture. If you can't find ready-ground almonds, just buy whole ones. It's very easy to grind your own. This recipe calls for lemon zest, so make sure you use lemons with an edible peel.

 

Last but not least—sugar. Not all sugar is vegan because bone char is often used in the refining process, so check labels. I use white vegan caster sugar. Caster sugar is finer than granulated sugar, which is ideal for this recipe.

 

What are the most critical steps in the preparation process?

This recipe is actually super easy to make. The most critical step is probably weighing the ingredients precisely. If you're approximate, it will definitely affect the texture of the cookies. Use a good kitchen scale because even slight variations in the amount of moisture will cause the cookies to either spread in the oven and lose their characteristic shape or be harder than they should be. The only other critical step is understanding when the cookies are done. They should be soft and pale when they come out of the oven and firm up as they cool.

Crunchy on the outside and chewy inside. Photo by Deborah Bolton.

What do you hope readers will take away from this recipe?

I hope readers will not only fall in love with the taste of these almond cookies but also appreciate the simplicity and authenticity of the recipe. With their crunchy exterior and soft, chewy center, they remain true to the traditional Sicilian cookie, even with the vegan twist. What's even better is the satisfaction of making a cruelty-free version that's just as good as the original, if not better. I also hope it inspires people to be creative with their plant-based cooking and consider the environmental and ethical benefits of using ingredients like aquafaba. And since they make such great edible gifts, especially around Christmas, I hope readers feel encouraged to share them with loved ones, knowing they're spreading a little piece of sweet, homemade joy!       

 

>>Get Deborah's pizzicotti delle mandorle recipe here!<<

 

 

 

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December was a busy month in the kitchen as my mother baked her way through all of her Sicilian cookie specialties. Come Christmas, we'd wrap up our finished batches and bring them to my aunt and uncle's home, where they'd be added to a nearly overflowing tray of classic holiday Sicilian confections.

 

One of the prettiest among these was the pizzelle, a thin and delicate waffle cookie dusted in powdered sugar and made with a hint of anise extract.

 

Produced in the Abruzzo region of Italy since the 15th century, this cookie, alternatively known as ferratelle, nevole, or catarrette, is also enjoyed in Sicily. The region, historically known as Abruzzi, was, after all, once part of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, so it's no wonder there are shared recipes.

 

I recently stumbled on Maria Vannelli's blog, She Loves Biscotti, where I found a pizzelle recipe. Maria's recipe looks just like the cookie I remember, but with a twist: it's plant-based. The Montreal-based dietician and content creator developed this vegan recipe for her daughter so that she, too, could enjoy Christmas cookies.

 

Maria shared her background, her favorite Italian Christmas memories, and the special significance of this recipe. Among her recipe development goals is making recipes more accessible so everyone can share holiday traditions through food.

 

 

Tell us about your background.

I was born in Montreal, Canada. My dad was born in Ripabottoni, Campobasso, in the Molise region of Italy, while my mom hails from Molinara, Benevento, in the Campania region. Both emigrated to Montreal, Canada, in the early 1950s, where they met, married, and raised a family. My dad owned an Italian grocery store, and my mom was a homemaker, which fueled my fascination with food and ultimately led me to become a dietitian. As the eldest of three, I grew up speaking Italian and had the privilege of living with my paternal grandparents, which deepened my connection to my Italian heritage.

 

What kinds of foods and recipes left a lasting impression?

I have countless "food memories" tied to family gatherings, making it challenging to pinpoint my favorites. Sunday lunches were particularly special, always filled with love, laughter, and a sprinkle of family drama, with homemade cavatelli as a staple that beautifully represented my nonna's Italian traditions. It is still my favorite pasta to this day.

The excitement and preparations for holidays like Easter and Christmas also left a lasting impression, with an abundance of mouthwatering food prepared from scratch! Whether it was my mom's lasagna or her homemade cannelloni, every dish was a labor of love.

Living with my grandparents meant our home was always open and inviting to extended family and friends. At least once a week, I would come home from school to find a great aunt or uncle visiting. This often meant a delightful spread of biscotti and Italian cookies—an amazing after-school snack and probably where my obsession with Italian cookies began.

 

Did your family bake Italian cookies for Christmas?

Yes, my mom and nonna baked a variety of Italian cookies for Christmas! Some of my favorites include almond biscotti, struffoli, chiacchiere, pizzelle, and mostaccioli, Christmas Eve fritters, and chestnut cookies, also known as calzoni di castagne. Each cookie brought its unique flavors and textures to our holiday celebrations. My mom would also make beautiful Christmas baskets filled with these cookies to share with family and friends.

 

Do you have any special memories attached to Italian Christmas foods?

Absolutely, I have so many special memories attached to Italian Christmas foods! One of my favorites is the time spent in the kitchen "baking" with my mom and nonna, especially when they would make pizzelle. They made ferratelle one at a time with a stovetop pizzelle press with long handles. 

 

Watching them work their magic was such a joy, and I can vividly remember eating the pizzelle faster than they could make them! Those moments were filled with laughter and the delightful aroma of these freshly baked treats, creating memories I'll always cherish.

 

Did your family observe Italian Christmas traditions?

Yes, my family certainly embraced Italian Christmas traditions. In the days leading up to Christmas Day, the kitchen was a lively hub of activity, with my mom and nonna bustling about, baking and making homemade pasta as they prepared for the big meal.

On Christmas Day, we would begin by attending Mass, which set a meaningful tone for the festivities. Afterward, the final touches for our festive meal would continue, with everyone pitching in to ensure everything was just right. Once the main meal was served and enjoyed, we waited for more of the extended family to visit. While we waited, there was always a spirited game of Scopa, adding to the day's excitement. Finally, we would indulge in homemade desserts and fruit platters.

These family traditions on Christmas Day created lasting memories for me. Although many loved ones, including my mom and dad, are no longer with us, we continue to cherish those wonderful memories as we celebrate with my brother, sister, and their families.

Being the eldest, my family now hosts Christmas, and I take great pride in continuing the traditions by making some of the traditional foods my mom and nonna would prepare. It's a way to honor their legacy and keep our family heritage alive. 

Inevitably, as we gather around the table, a story is shared—whether it's a food memory of past celebrations or a humorous anecdote from our family history. These stories add warmth and connection to our celebrations, reminding us of the love and joy that has always been at the heart of our Christmas gatherings. 

For the younger ones, these "stories" serve as a bridge to their heritage, connecting them to their great-grandparents and great-great-grandparents they never had the chance to meet. It's a beautiful way to keep our family history alive and instill a sense of belonging in each generation.

 

Mara cools her pizzelle on a rack to ensure they stay crisp.

 

Tell us about your pizzelle recipe. How is it similar or different from the traditional recipe?

My daughter's journey into veganism inspired my vegan pizzelle recipe. I wanted her to continue enjoying one of her favorite Italian cookies, so I adapted my nonna's traditional recipe.

Seeing her joy when she tasted these vegan pizzelles for the first time was such a heartwarming moment! This recipe combines my family's traditions and her dietary choices. After some experimentation, I found that using flaxseed creates a batter with just the right consistency, giving the pizzelles a wonderfully crisp texture without any vegan butter.

The intricate patterns that pizzelles are known for come out beautifully in this vegan version, thanks to a well-heated pizzelle press. These vegan pizzelles keep our Italian traditions alive while being perfect for plant-based diets, making it easy to enjoy this cookie together!

 

Does this recipe have special significance to you?

These vegan pizzelles hold special significance for me because they help keep our Italian family recipes alive while being perfect for plant-based diets. It means so much to enjoy this beloved cookie together as a family!

Christmas is a time for baking special cookies and treats, and pizzelles are classic Italian waffle cookies that many families make during the holiday season. By adapting this recipe, I can honor our family's culinary heritage while ensuring that everyone can partake in the joy of baking and sharing these delicious cookies. It's a wonderful way to connect with our traditions and create new memories together!

 

What is your goal when developing recipes like this?

With my pizzelle recipe, I hope at-home bakers will see that it's possible to honor tradition while accommodating different dietary needs. I want them to feel inspired to get creative in the kitchen and adapt cherished recipes to fit their lifestyles, just like I did for my daughter.

My goal in developing recipes like this is to bring people together through food, making it accessible and enjoyable for everyone. Cooking and baking should be a joyful experience filled with love and connection. By sharing this vegan pizzelle recipe, I hope to encourage others to create their own special moments and memories around the table, celebrating both tradition and creativity!

  

Maria Vannelli aka @SheLovesBiscotti

>>Get Maria's recipe for vegan pizzelle cookies here!<<

 

 

 

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Looking for a healthier take on a Sicilian cookie classic? Consider this vegan version of cuccidati from Christina Pirello of PBS's Christina Cooks: Back to the Cutting Board. Christina uses olive oil and coconut sugar to replicate traditional shortbread. The result? A guilt-free holiday indulgence to add to your dessert platter. 

 

Christina, who celebrates her birthday on December 22, has fond memories of her mother and nonna baking cuccidati and other Christmas cookies starting the day after Thanksgiving. She shared with me the secret to her twist on tradition, what this cookie means to her, essential Sicilian baking ingredients, and her goal with recipe development. 

 

Describe your cuccidati recipe. How is it different from the traditional recipe?

I love this recipe. It's different in that it's vegan. The original dough is made with eggs and butter to create a shortbread-like dough, whereas mine is made with olive oil and coconut sugar to achieve a tender dough that you can roll. And I don't decorate them with sprinkles, so I guess I break all the rules.

 

Does this recipe have special significance to you?

My whole family loved figs. My nonno had a fig tree that was so abundant that we could not use them fast enough. My husband and I love figs as well, so this is a lovely way to honor my nonno and still make a sweet and healthy dessert.

  

What are the essential ingredients for baking Italian or Sicilian, specifically?

Good flour (in my case, sprouted whole wheat, but in Italy, I use farro flour), extra virgin olive oil, pine nuts, hazelnuts, almond and vanilla extract, and orange water.

 

What is your goal when developing recipes like this?

My goal for baking is the same as my goal for cooking. I want people to think differently about food. I want people to discover the true joy of cooking for themselves and creating dishes that their loved ones can't wait to eat. And most importantly, helping people realize that cooking is simple and easy when you use fresh ingredients. Nothing beats home cooking.

 

With baking, I hope people see how easy it is to create deserts that nourish us, satisfy our sweet tooth, and don't steal our wellness.

 

>>Get Christina's cuccidati recipe here!<<

 

 

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The time has come: the season for baking holiday cookies! If you're looking for a uniquely Sicilian cookie recipe, consider the cuccidati. Also spelled cucidati and sometimes called buccellati, these gooey, chewy cookies are a favorite this time of year and tend to appear on St. Joseph Day altars. Reflecting the Arab influence on Sicily's foods and culture, they are typically filled with dried figs, nuts, and citrus. Their pastry-dough exterior is often covered in icing and topped with rainbow sprinkles for a colorful pop to Italian cookie platters. 

To learn more about making cuccidati, I reached out to Dave Costanza, who won first place in November's twelfth annual Cucidati Contest. The event, organized by the Sons & Daughters of Italy, C. Colombo Lodge 1315, in Pittsburg, California, raises funds for scholarships. Using a blind taste test, judges rate cookies on appearance, texture, filling, and dough. 

While Dave has entered a handful of times, this was his first top-prize win. The Antioch, California, resident was born in Pittsburg, where his Sicilian grandparents emigrated from Isola delle Femmine in the Palermo Province. 

Dave took time from his busy holiday cookie and ravioli preparation to discuss his award-winning recipe and technique with me. We were joined by Zelda LeFrak-Belleci, who not only serves as the chairman of the Cucidati Contest judging committee but also teaches how to bake the classic cookies.

 

 

How did you start making cuccidati?

Dave: I have a cousin who was a cook in the army. One day, I met him at a funeral, and we got to talking. He took me to his house and showed me how to make cuccidati. From there, I put my personal touch on the recipe. 

 

Zelda: You have to learn from somebody; like when I married into the family, my mother-in-law taught me in her kitchen how to do cuccidati. And she brought me over to show me how to make ravioli. That's how it's done.

 

I decided I would have a cuccidati cooking class. So, for the past three contests, I've offered a cooking class in my kitchen a month ahead of time.

 

What are the key ingredients?

Dave: Raisins, some kind of nuts, lots of figs. The local store here has bulk dates; when you buy them in the package, they add something, so I only used dried bulk ingredients. I add whiskey and rum and let the filling sit in the refrigerator for months at a time. 

 

What is the secret to a winning cookie?

Dave: Grind the filling up just right. I use a food-grade caulking gun. I load up the caulking gun with the filling and draw a perfect bead down the center.

 

What memories do you have of cuccidati?

Dave: I remember them lying around at Christmas time. But I wasn't a big fan until I started making them because my grandmother never made them really well. I was never a big sweets person, but I came around. 

 

Dave Costanza's award-winning cuccidati. 

 

What do you hope to share with the next generation?

Dave: My daughter-in-law helped us make them for the contest. It is a family tradition to make the ravioli and the cuccidati together. We start horsing around once we get through making the cuccidati and the ravioli.

 

Zelda: It is an opportunity to share Italian culture and come together over food. It's a family event that happens to raise money to help young people expand their horizons and give them an opportunity to go to college. 

 

 

 

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When I was growing up, holiday gatherings with my Sicilian family meant that everyone brought a favorite dish to add to supper. In addition to giardiniera, bean and tomato salad, and pasta, we could always expect trays of Italian cookies. A favorite was the tetú, a dense, chewy chocolate cookie with a light glaze. 

 

Traditionally served on All Saints' Day in Sicily, these so-called "sweets of the dead" are a hit any time of the year. Our family includes them on Christmas cookie platters, and they frequently show up on Sicilian wedding cookie tables.

 

I was thrilled to find a recipe for this classic Italian cookie on Alexa Peduzzi's Fooduzzi.com. Alexa's recipe is inspired by her Nana's. Her twist? They are plant-based. 

 

Alexa and I discussed her background and the significance of the tetú (or, as Alexa says, "to to"). 

 

 

Tell me about your background. Where is your family from?

We're from all over the boot! One of my great-grandpas was from L'Aquila, my great-grandma was from Calabria, and I had some family up in Schignano on Lake Como. 

 

What does your heritage mean to you?

When I was a kid, I actually thought everyone was Italian because celebrating that part of my heritage happened all of the time and just seemed so normal and universal.

 

I'm really proud to be Italian, largely because we're a big food family. So being Italian (to me and my family) means black olives on our fingers at dinnertime, homemade pasta swirled into savory sauces, and simple desserts like these to tos.

Walking into an Italian grocery store (like Penn Mac in the Strip District in Pittsburgh) is always the best sensory experience for me; the scent of cheese, olives, and oils smells like my childhood!

 

What are to tos, and how/when are they typically served?

At their core, to tos are chocolate cookies with a simple vanilla icing. They're crisp on the outside and soft on the inside. I think there's a similar version of these cookies floating around called "meatball cookies," which is very accurate given their look before they're iced.

I'm from Pittsburgh, and the "wedding cookie table" is a very important part of our culture here. So, I saw them a lot at weddings growing up. Now, we mostly have them at Christmas, and I look forward to them every single year.

 

What is the significance of this recipe for you?

These are, hands down, my favorite cookies. 

Yes, they're delicious, but this recipe is one that I always consider "our family recipe." I've never really seen to tos anywhere else, but I always look forward to them at family gatherings. 

To tos are a simple chocolate cookie, but they're so much more than that. When I bite into them, I'm always taken back to the weddings I attended, the birthday get-togethers we had, and the visits with family that included these cookies.

They're as much a memory as they are a recipe.

 

How is this recipe different from the traditional version?

My Nana's version of this recipe is very similar to mine; mine uses vegan butter instead of regular butter. I tried to keep my version as close to the original as possible, considering the original has been my favorite treat for over 30 years! 

I'm not really sure that my Nana would have really understood my desire to make to tos plant-based, but making this recipe always makes me feel close to her, even with my tweaks. 

 

What do you hope at-home cooks and bakers will take away from your recipes?

I hope they're able to take one of my recipes and say, "Wow, this tastes great, and it's plant-based," rather than something like, "This tastes great for a plant-based recipe." 

I'm plant-based because I love animals, and I figure if I can satisfy my body with foods that don't require them, I should. 

I don't believe that there's one universal way of eating for every person, but I hope my recipes show people who are interested in plant-based options how simple, tasty, and uncomplicated they can be. 

 

What is your goal with Fooduzzi?

My goals have changed so much over the years! I started Fooduzzi almost 10 years ago, and when I first started, my goal was to take it full-time and work for myself.

That said, I soon realized that I'm a terrible boss for myself! So, it's very much a hobby and a hub where I share the recipes that I love at the moment. I'm not actively creating new recipes; I'm now sharing more of the recipes I've started making and truly love.

 

 

 

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Round-shaped ricotta-cream pastries topped with a nipple-like cherry, the minne di Sant'Agata take the cake among Sicily's most sensuous sweets. But within these so-called breasts of Saint Agatha, you'll find not only chocolate and candied orange peel but also a tragic story.

 

The cakes are named after Agatha of Sicily, who lived and died as a martyr in third-century Catania. At 15, Agatha took a vow of chastity. When she rejected the advances of Roman prefect Quintianus, he had her reported as a Christian, for which she was tortured. Men stretched her on a rack and tore her flesh with iron hooks, burned her with torches, and whipped her. As if that weren't enough, her breasts were torn off with tongs. She survived because, as tradition tells us, St. Peter the Apostle appeared to heal her wounds. Eventually, Quintianus ordered his men to burn her over hot coals. Today, Agatha is honored as the patron saint of rape victims, wet nurses, and breast cancer patients with a February 5 feast day. 

"When people see these cakes and how they look like breasts, or they see breasts in the name, they laugh," says South Carolina baker Patrizia Boscia. "When I explain the story, they stop smiling or laughing, and they become curious and listen. I want to show them that it's not just a funny, pornographic pastry that Italians created; it's a celebration of martyrdom."

Patrizia came to the U.S. from Castellammare del Golfo about 40 years ago and got her Ph.D. in sociology. She taught in New York, Florida, and South Carolina, where she eventually retired from teaching and reinvented herself as a baker. In 2018, she launched Sweet Bites of Italy, taking orders online, catering, and selling at farmers markets.

The minne di Sant'Agata is one of Patrizia's more popular sweet treats. It has special significance to her, which we discussed along with the pastry's origins.

 

 

Describe these cakes and their historical significance.

The cakes are dome pastries, and there are two versions. One is made with pastry dough, and the other with Italian sponge cake. Inside is a very nice filling made with ricotta, candied orange peel, and chocolate chips. Then, they are covered with a thick icing layer—all white. Inside, they are very soft. They're very tasty.

 

They are related to St. Agatha. There is a mixture of history and traditions (or fantasy, in a way). St. Agatha came from a rich family, and it was around 200 years after Christ, a period of very ferocious Christian persecution.

 

A prefect had come to force the population to return to the pagan state and forget their Christianity. He saw this young girl who wanted to become a nun, and he fell in love with her. He tried to convince her to marry him or have a relationship with him. She refused. So, the situation escalated. He became increasingly violent, and he asked his men to take her, and she was put in prison, and then she was tortured.

 

The minne di Sant'Agata are not the original anatomical sweet typical of Italy or Spain. The Greeks created this kind of anatomical breast in honor of a goddess for a particular feast, and they made it with sesame seed and honey.

It is unclear when this anatomical sweet got translated into the religious feast of Saint Agatha. But it is not really so strange because, in Italian—especially Sicilian—pastries, there is often this strange mixture of sensuality—pornography in a way—and religion. If we think of the cannoli, they were a symbol of man's virility.

The strange thing is that these pastries were made by nuns in the convent. Nuns were the ones who really developed Sicilian pastry cuisine. They sold pastries to support themselves and their orphans.

 

But the breast in Italy is not a symbol of sexuality as much as we consider it today. Breasts are a symbol of fertility, motherhood, and nutrition. 

 

What does this cake mean to you personally?

I had never seen them in the part of Sicily where I lived, but when I started to research them and what they represented, I associated them more with the victimization of women. Even though the martyrdom of St. Agatha was not expressed in terms of gender violence, they are associated with the victimization of women and the courage of this lady who, despite everything, refused to bend to the advances of this guy because she wanted to maintain her dignity and she wanted to become a nun. So, in a way, for me, it's a symbol of women's resistance and courage. And that's what I emphasize every time I serve them.

 

What do you hope people take away from these pastries?

I want them to realize that there is a story behind Italian cuisine, especially traditional cuisine.

When we talk about traditional Italian pastries, sometimes it's confusing. Traditional doesn't mean that I need this amount of flour, for instance, or that I must strictly follow a recipe. It's not so much related to the menu as to what Italian cuisine is still attached: a ritualistic nature, a different nature, and a diversity of different regions. This is what traditional is to me.

I want them to understand what makes Italian cuisine different, the fact that it's still attached to events, the history of Italy, and the religion of Italy. 

 

 

 

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Director and food stylist Victoria Granof is well aware of America's love affair with Italy. It's something she shares, but one region of Italy particularly inspires her—and it's not the one at the tip of your tongue.

 

"I get so frustrated when people start talking about Tuscany," she says. "I mean, Tuscany is really nice—really nice. But Sicily is more my style; it's so different from any other part of Italy. People just think it's mafia, mafia, mafia. And it's so much more than that. I am on this mission to show people the Sicily that I love and that it's fabulous and different from the rest of Italy."

 

One of Victoria's obsessions is the aesthetic beauty of Sicily's famous sweets, which inspired her latest project, Sicily, My Sweet: Love Notes to an Island, with Recipes for Cakes, Cookies, Puddings, and Preserves.

Victoria and I recently sat down for a conversation where she shared her surprising Sicilian connection, her favorite recipes, what she learned working with photographer Irving Penn, the fascinating and sustainable way Sicilians make cannoli, and what she hopes book readers will take away. 

 

 

Tell us about your background and connection to Sicily.

My father's side of the family is northern Italian, and on my mother's side of the family were Sephardic Jews from Spain before the Spanish Inquisition.

We always thought we originated in Spain and landed in Turkey for the last 400 years. But the language, dialect, and food that we took with us, as well as a lot of the traditions, were not Turkish. 

When I went looking for my roots and to feel a connection, I went to Turkey, and it was like, "Oh, this is nice, but this is not home."

It wasn't until I read an article about Maria Grammatico, who owns a pastry shop in Erice. She said she was getting older and was afraid that none of the younger generation wanted to keep the tradition of Sicilian pastry alive because it was just dying off. All they wanted to do was move to a big city or out of Sicily and do something else.

I was really drawn to this because I was a pastry chef then, and I thought, okay, I'll go, and she can teach me. So that's what first brought me there, and I felt this really strong connection as soon as I went. 

Fast-forward to maybe five years ago, when all my family did our DNA and found out that we're Sicilian—57% Sicilian. Then I started really researching it. 

Spain wasn't Spain as we know it now at that time. It was the Spanish empire, which included a lot of South and Central America and from Naples down through Sicily. 

That's where we started from, who knows how long ago, but we were in the Sicily of Spain. And so there are still traces of the dialect in what we brought from 500 years ago, just like Sicilian Americans whose families came here a hundred years ago or 200 years ago with that same dialect, they will be speaking that same dialect for another 300 years. That's what they brought with them, and that's what gets passed down through the family. 

 

Is there a recipe in this book that has special personal significance?

I think everybody's grandmother makes biscotti Regina, the cookies with the sesame seeds. I remember my grandmother had a cookie tin of those on top of her refrigerator. Honestly, now that I think about it, it was kind of rusty inside. Those cookies probably took years off our lives!

When she died, I remember taking the cookies off the top of the refrigerator and thinking, "These are the last ones she's ever going to make with her hands."

I had one in my freezer for the longest time. Then we had a power outage last summer, and everything had to go. I forgot that the cookie was in there, so it went with it. It's very heartbreaking. 

 

You were a pastry chef and now a food stylist. How did that influence this book?

I had to go against all of my pastry-chef training, make it approachable and easy, and simplify it for home cooks. So, that part didn't come into it other than I love making pastries. 

The book's aesthetics were really important. In the end, two publishers were interested in it. (There were others, but these were the two that I was considering.) I went with Hardie Grant Publishing because they were willing and eager to have me not only design the book but also guide its aesthetics. 

I worked with a designer in Sydney, Australia, on the book design. When I saw her very first designs, I was like, "Oh my God. I love this so much."

Then they went through a couple of iterations, but just the colors! It was really important for me to have those colors in the book and on the book. It wasn't those earth-tony Tuscan things, so people would really understand that Sicily is different from the rest of Italy, period, and why it's so fabulously different. So the color had a lot to do with it—the graphics, the photographs, everything. 

 

Describe those colors.

I used pinks and greens and oranges and blues: the colors in the tile work and those on houses. There are pink houses in Sicily and raspberry-colored houses in the country. And I just love that color. So a lot of that; not millennial pink, but a lot of that kind of Sicilian country house/raspberry pink and the green of pistachios, I really leaned into that. And the orange of orange peel and yellow of lemons—just the colors in the ingredients, really. 

 

You worked with the late Irving Penn. How did he influence you?

I worked with him for 10 years. The funny thing was that I met the Vogue photo editor at a party, and it was a very short, cordial conversation. I handed him my card, and that was it. 

Then, a few months later, he called me and said, "Mr. Penn is looking for a collaborator. And I remember meeting you at the party, and you were very reserved and quiet, and that's what he likes. That's the vibe he likes, so I think it would be a good match."

So, for 10 years, I had to keep my mouth shut and not chat. It was a little bit torturous from that point of view. But you know what? I learned the economy of everything. There was nothing extra in anything. None of his output, none of his persona, none of his words, none of his anything were extra. Everything was essential. So he never had superfluous anything anywhere around him. 

I learned what is important in a picture and what is not necessary. I learned when to stop because several times, he would set up the shot, do a Polaroid, and take a picture. He would do a Polaroid first; if he liked it, he would take the picture, and then we would leave.

We'd be done before lunch. And it was never like, "Alright, let's do some variations," or "Let's do five more just in case," or "Let's see; do we think we have it?" No, after many years, he knew what it took to get a good picture and how to recognize it when he got it. And that was huge. 

It's a practice and a discipline. I'm so grateful for that because I've used it in all aspects of my life, including personal relationships. It's really important to know when to stop.

 

Which Sicilian desserts should everyone experience?:

Well, anybody who hasn't had a really good cannolo is… I mean, forget it!

I learned the last time I was in Sicily that they use bamboo as cannoli-shaping tubes. It was kind of a revelation for me. If you've ever done that with the metal tubes and fried the shells, the first thing it does is sink to the bottom. And then the bottom of the shell gets a little bit darker, which nobody notices, really. And then you have to keep turning them around and everything. With the bamboo, it floats. So not only does it just float and turn around by itself, but it's porous. So it cooks from the inside out and the outside in, and it allows air bubbles to come through and make the dough lighter. It's really an amazing thing. They turn black, but they are used over and over, and it's sustainable.

 

I'm also really obsessed with St. Agatha's breast cakes. I do them a couple of different ways, but the way I really love them is just with the pastry dough, the ricotta inside, and the icing on top. I love those symbolically—and just about anything with almonds and pistachios.

 

Most of my recipes are traditional, but some of them I developed that are just in the spirit of Sicily using Sicilian ingredients. I have shortbread cookie recipes, and one has sun-dried tomatoes and anise seeds. It's treating the tomatoes like dried fruit because that's what they are. Then, the other one has dried figs and oil-cured olives in it. It's really treating the olives and the tomatoes like the fruits they actually are. And it's really, really good. You could just keep the rolls of the dough in your freezer and then slice and bake it as you need it.

 

What do you hope readers take away?

I want them to appreciate this on so many levels. I want them to open their eyes and minds and appreciate Sicily for the multicultural, fabulously weird, and delicious place that it is.

In the book's introduction, I really talk about how if you go to other parts of Italy, they look like postcards. Everybody brings the same pictures back from Rome. There I am, throwing the coin in the Trevi Fountain. There I am in front of the Coliseum. They're all the same pictures. And the takeaway is the same. You can go to those places passively. You can just observe.

But what I love to say about Sicily is if you are there, you're in the game—not just enjoying it passively. You're not just looking at it. You're experiencing it. And some of it is funky, and there's garbage on the side of the road. There's some funky stuff there. But it's worth it because being there is such a heightened sensory experience. 

After so many centuries of being dominated and controlled by all kinds of different civilizations, people, empires, and all of that, it's just turned into this really strong, strange, wonderfully mixed-up, and beautiful place. It's not in spite of having that history; it's because of the history that it's so great.

 

>>Get your copy of Sicily, My Sweet here!<<

 

 

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If you're a fan of donut holes, you'll love sfingi, the quintessential donut of Sicily. While commonly served on Saint Joseph’s Day and at Christmastime, these sweet and sometimes savory treats are a hit any time of the year. I caught up with Sicilian Food Tours owner Carmel Ruggeri to chat about her version of sfingi, which reminds me of my own Nonna's recipe. 

 

Tell me about your background. 

I was born in Australia. My parents migrated to Sydney in the 60s. They are both from Scoglitti, which is located on the south coast of Sicily. I have owned many Italian restaurants in Sydney and have always had a serious passion for food. I started tours about 13 years ago because my customers were continuously saying, "when are you going to take me to Sicily, Carmel?" I base myself in Scoglitti when I am in Sicily. It is a quaint little fishing village located on the south coast. White sandy beaches and it has numerous amazing seafood restaurants which people from all over the island come to visit.

 

What does your heritage mean to you?

I am a very proud Sicilian. Sicily has a rich history of mixed cultures, and I think this has helped shape my curiosity about discovering different cultures and meeting various people from all over the world. Sicilians are very proud of their rich soil and their produce, as am I, and I want the world to know who we are and taste all our produce and products. We have strong family values and a strong sense of community, which is evident as you visit the villages of Sicily and attend feasts and events throughout the island. Most of our events are around food. Growing up, when we came together with our cousins and extended family, it was always about food, and if there were only 10 of us for Sunday lunch, there would always be enough leftovers for days. My mother showed love by feeding us, and until today, even though she is very unwell and barely able to walk, her first question to me in the morning after breakfast is, "What can we prepare for dinner tonight?" I'm proud to say she passed on the cooking gene to me.

 

What are sfingi, and how are they typically served?

Sfingi is a donut. Sicilian recipes differ from village to village. We serve it with sultanas and roll them in sugar and cinnamon. When I was a child, my mother used to make them with fennel seeds. I definitely prefer them with sultanas.

 

What is the difference between zeppole and sfingi?

Sfingi are donut-style fritters made into random shapes. Zeppole are made from pastry and have fillings, such as the Zeppole di San Giuseppe, which is a pastry made for the patron saint day of Saint Joseph. They look like an open profiterole with cream in the middle. However many of my Calabrese friends call savoury sfingi zeppole. They add anchovies inside the dough mixture and fry them and serve them. Many restaurants serve these on bar menus around the world. They help drink sales because they are nice and salty and make their customers thirsty. 

 

Is this a family recipe? What went into developing it?

I have watched my mother and aunts make sfingi since I was a little girl. Like most recipes handed down from my mother, it was, "Add a pinch of this and a pinch of that." Her recipes were never precise, and I had to work it out on my own. I know now that with sfingi dough, you need to mix it well and give them enough time to rise to get those large, great, airy bubbles in them. 

 

 

I noticed your sfingi recipe happens to be vegan. 

Most of the recipes I know of sfingi are vegan. My cousin, who is from the Messina region, adds mashed potato to hers, and another friend told me that in Sardinia, they add mashed cauliflower. 

 

What do you hope at-home cooks and bakers will take away from your recipes?

I hope they get to try a little bit of Sicilian flavors in their homes and enjoy how such little ingredients can go a long way. 

 

Tell me about Sicilian Food Tours. Where do you go, and what can participants expect?

Sicilian Food Tours is based in the seaside fishing village of Scoglitti, and we travel to the surrounding areas such as baroque Modica, Ragusa Ibla, majestic Noto, Ortigia on the East Coast, and many other south Sicily locations. I like to think that guests get a full cultural experience on my tours. They come into our family home and see Nonna cook. Guests get to meet many of my relatives at their bakeries and pastry stores and come behind the scenes and see how everything is created. They come to my cousin's tomato or eggplant farms and see produce from start to finish. We pride ourselves on being a tour with a difference, offering meals with an array of differences from a Michelin-style restaurant to eating a Sicilian salsiccia at a BBQ to a winetasting with lunch at a beautiful winery with a top sommelier on hand telling us about all the grape varieties and winemaking. Our tours are very personalized tours, and we only run three- or four-week-long tours a year.

 

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