Her cooking is a form of worship. Praise folded into an eggy pappardelle. A sermon in every sprinkling of chestnut flour. Time evaporates as she melds Tuscan tradition with the ingredients gifted to her by a garden. She comes from a long legacy of pastry pinchers, seasoners, and simmerers. Souls who listen to the language of garden growth. Her own Babbo was the proud village baker for all his life. In the cucina, Nonna honors her alchemist ancestors, awakening the spirit of their souls with flour fingers and the deepest of roots.
