It’s often the case for me, and maybe for many people too, that I would ignore what’s close to me. I have written so many things about other cities I visit, other cultures, but rarely about those where I actually lived, or live. But since moving to Bologna, a city rich in food cultures and delicious goods, it’s about time I start to write about the place where I live in.

And luckily, I was invited by my friend’s granny to join her and her family for lunch in their country house outside Modena.



Emilia-Romagna is a region in central-North of Italy, where food is probably one of the first words people associate this place with. It was the birth place of raw Parma ham, Parmegiano Reggiano, aceto balsamico, and the lovely knotted ravioli called ‘tortellini’ and ‘tortelloni’

Plus, the gelato in this town is just divined.

Simply said, people who travel to this region, their main reason is probably to eat, just like me.

So, where else would be a better place to learn about how the Bolognese people eat, if not at a lovely grandma’s house where she makes her own fresh pasta almost every weekend, and ferment her own balsamic vineger in the attic room?





It was a warm and sunny summer morning when my friend Giulia picked me up from the train station in Modena and drove me out into the countryside. When we got there, her grandma already made quite a lot of tortelloni, but of course I was there to learn so we made some more together. Starting of with making the egg pasta dough by mixing just plain flour with eggs, 100g. flour per egg. She rolled the dough out thinly in two different ways, using the metre-long rolling pin in a traditional way, and an electronic pasta machine which saved much more time and work. Then I had a go at folding the lovely tortelloni knot, filled with ricotta, spinach and parmesan.

After the pasta-making session, we tried some homemade aceto balsamico and Giulia showed me the attic room where the vinegar was produced by her dad. As we entered the room filled with small wooden barrels, the sweet and sour smell hit my nose. She explained the the balsamic had to be done in the attic because it required the extreme temperature, cold winter and hot summer.

This balsamic was so good that you can simply eat it on bread, parmesan, ricotta or even gelato.

Yes, balamic-drizzled gelato had become my new favourite.

We had a walk around the garden in the hot midday sun. Almost-ripe red cherries and amarena (sour cherries) were hanging from the trees. Their land was full of fruit trees, peaches, plums, apricots, persimmons, watermelons, and also many other vegetables, and a small vineyard (where they harvest the grapes for the balsamico) It was just like my countryside dream life.

This was my ‘stereotypical Italian life’ preconception I had, and would probably continue to have.



Back in the kitchen, her grandma was preparing some bread for later. There are several types of interesting bread in this regions. Piadina, a flatbread made traditionally with lard and stuffed with different filling like sandwich is one of the most popular. Tigella, a small but thicker bread, grilled using a special pan that leaves flower pattern on the surface of the bread, is also eaten stuffed with cold cuts, cheese or grilled vegetables like a mini sandwich. What the granny was making from scratch, though, was a fried bread called ‘gnocco fritto’ A thin slice of dough, deep-fried in hot oil until puffy and golden-brown. I didn’t expect to like it very much since deep-fried stuff, especially on a hot day like this, is nor really my think. However, spreading fresh ricotta and topped with homemade sour cherry jam before folding it in hald, that first bite screamed ‘more! more!’



So I fell in love, with ricotta, balsamic vinegar and cherry jam.

Lunch composed of fresh salad from the garden, ricotta and spinach tortelloni with sage butter, tigella and gnocco fritto with cheese, cold cuts and grilled vegetables. Of course, the meal ended with gelato, and a shot of homemade limoncello with the lemons from their garden.



It didn’t surprise me that the concept of slow food was born in Italy. People are still living this lifestyle now, in a very genuine and non-pretentious way.

I was well-fed and stuffed until dinner. Her grandma gave me a big bag of fresh tagliatelle we made this morning, and invited me to come back again. Next time we can make lasagna, she said.



Well, it’s probably not very common to meet a food-lover traveller from a faraway land like me, maybe that’s why I managed to make this Italian nonna fall in love with me over a course of lunch.

Of course I would not so no to such invitations, not for a second.