Light falls through the stained glass and catches the edge of a page, a nib drawn slowly across paper. Nothing here moves quickly. The women work bent close, because this is craft that punishes hurry. At the centre of the room is a man who took the name Malleus as a boy and never gave it back.

His true name is Federico Ragni. He is among the last to practise calligraphy the old way, and the only one to have built himself a scriptorium recognised as the largest in Europe. It is a room like the ones the Middle Ages kept behind monastery walls: the work was men's then, cloistered, copied by candlelight in service of scripture. Here, Malleus has chosen to open it to women, a kind of amends for the centuries they were barred from the craft.

Ragni grew up poor, in a family that was united and inventive, where music, craft and the making of things filled the space money couldn't. He and his brothers were good with their hands early, mending broken toys and building new ones from the pieces. In summer his parents sent him off to learn a trade, carpentry one year, blacksmithing the next, and somewhere in all that tinkering the same hands that shaped wood and iron found a quieter craft: a pen nib scratching across paper. Calligraphy, at first, was only a hobby.

The path

The path that followed was nothing like a straight line. He studied chemistry, went to work as a chemist, and rose to a management role, a man trained to notice what others miss. Then he left it all for the love of music. He built the leading recording studio in central Italy, working with prestigious names both Italian and international, Chuck Berry among them, and importing his Fairlight from Australia. It was music that first brought him to Recanati, a town known worldwide as the birthplace of the poet Giacomo Leopardi. But it wasn't the poet who drew him here: in the eighties and nineties Recanati was Italy's centre for building electronic instruments, and that is what called him.

The question in the silence

1988 was the year it all came apart. His brother died, suddenly and too young, and in the same season the ground was shifting under his profession: digital recording was arriving, and the world of tape and imported machines he had built his studio on was passing. In the silence that followed, the life that had run so smoothly along its set track stopped making sense. He began to ask himself the hardest question there is, is this my life?, and went looking inward for the answer: two weeks alone in an old monastery in the woods.

The answer was calligraphy, the thing he had always kept to the side, in his spare hours, never quite the main event, and now he gave himself to it completely. He went and studied under some of the world's leading masters, including Donald Jackson, the official calligrapher to the British Crown. Under Michael Harvey he trained further, as a master engraver. His brother's death was the end of one bond and the start of a profession; what had been a hobby became the work of his life.

Once he had mastered it, he built his scriptorium, half modern, half castle, surrounded by the green hills of Le Marche.

In his castle he specialises in university diplomas, crowning each one with miniatures that trace the history of the institution, a lineage made visible alongside the name. For more than thirty years his workshop has been the official supplier to Italy’s leading universities, hand-filling thousands of diplomas a year, unhurried work, until Covid.

With contact thinned to nothing and dissertations moving online, universities began to wonder whether a machine-printed sheet could do the work of ink and miniature. Work at the scriptorium slowed, and Malleus had to let some of his calligraphers go.

He adapted. Drawing on his chemist's knowledge, he turned to the ink itself, making formulas built to outlast the paper they're written on, inks now used for official documents, at Buckingham Palace among other places. The diplomas were fading; the ink he made to outlast them was not.

And so, in the end, the three lives came together in one place, in his castle. The chemist lives on in the ink. Having less work, Malleus decided to open his doors to anyone who wants to learn. His scriptorium runs workshops where he teaches less technique than attention: calligraphy slows the hand, steadies the nerves, asks you to sit with silence long enough to hear yourself think. It isn’t important to write perfectly, he says. It’s important to write, at any age.

Nor has the musician been left behind. A guitarist since boyhood, he writes music for performances staged in “odorama,” through a machine he built himself that releases scents tuned to each passage, so the audience smells its way through the piece as much as hears it. He stages them in the castle, and describes them the way he describes calligraphy: another way of turning inward.

Chemist, musician, calligrapher, three lives that once looked like a man starting over and over, now gathered under a single roof.

Where to meet Malleus

Castello Màlleus sits in the countryside outside Recanati, in inland Marche, a castle built in the shape of an open book, with the scriptorium at its heart. Set on a panoramic hill between the valleys of the Musone and the Potenza, Recanati has earned the name città balcone. the balcony town, for the way it looks out over the countryside and, beyond it, the Adriatic.

It is known above all as the birthplace of two voices: the poet Giacomo Leopardi and the opera tenor Beniamino Gigli.

Much of what draws visitors is bound up with them, Casa Leopardi, the Colle dell’Infinito, and the museum devoted to Gigli.

And Recanati is only one reason to come to the Marche, a region where beauty, culture and pristine landscape are never gathered in a single city but scattered across many small towns. It holds:

• 100 historic theatres

• 315 libraries

• 400 museums and collections

• over 1,000 monuments, abbeys, Romanesque churches, fortresses, and castles

• 34 archaeological sites

• 2 ancient Roman roads

• 27 of Italy’s most beautiful villages

Getting there

The nearest airport is Ancona Falconara, the region's only international airport, about 35 km from Recanati, half an hour or so by car, with seasonal connections to several European cities (check the airport's site for current routes). If you're coming long-haul, Rome Fiumicino is around three hours away by car.

Fast, direct trains run from both Rome and Milan to Ancona, itself about 30 minutes from Recanati by car.

For a tailored itinerary around Le Marche, wine, food, artisans, write to hello@piccolocentro.com. Happy to help.

Everything about Maria Vittoria defies the typical image of a chef. You won’t find her cooped up in a kitchen or barking orders at a line of cooks; she’s far more likely to be outdoors, or somewhere on the other side of the world. Even her face tells you she’s something different, with her cloud of red hair, delicate feature, and a ready grin.

The difference goes deeper than looks. Maria Vittoria’s path to becoming a chef was never a straight line. It wasn’t a calling for cooking that led her to culinary and hospitality school, it was her love of travel and discovery. She’d noticed that her friends at the hospitality school were spending time abroad on internships, and that was enough: she signed up. Travel and cooking have gone hand in hand ever since.

It started young: at eighteen, she left for Australia on a one-way ticket. Little money, no connections, the first of the many adventures of her life, and a willingness to give up comfort for the unknown. Starting from scratch, on another continent, far from her family and everything familiar. The first kitchen jobs, and the dawning sense that if she wanted to cook seriously, she'd have to come home: only in Italy could she build her foundations.

Then came the path every good chef walks, prestigious kitchens, long hours, hard graft, the camaraderie, but also something assembly-line about it, every motion fixed in its sequence. And in the end, her need for independence, to forge her own way, won out.

A cooking contest changed everything.

It caught the attention of Jovanotti, one of Italy's best-known pop stars, who took her on as his personal chef, charged with the strict diet he needs to sustain his long summer tours along Italy's beaches. He also gave her a name: Cheffa. It stuck, and it's the name her followers know her by. For a generation wondering whether a kitchen career means years of hierarchy and fixed hours, she might suggest a different way. Not a solution. Just proof that another way exists.

Touring with Jovanotti, she travels the length of the country, market to market, sourcing fresh food and learning each region through it, every market different in what it offers, its atmosphere, the way its vendors carry themselves.

When the tour ends, she keeps going. Cycling trips around the world, documented as she rides. She sleeps in a tent, or by friends and followers, repaying the bed with a spectacular breakfast before she's back in the saddle. She isn’t afraid to travel alone, since you can’t be afraid of something that has never happened to you.

On two wheels, there are no walls between her and the landscape, the scents, the colours, the flavours that shift with each season. Her dishes start there, on the road, and they're mostly vegetarian. She doesn't work from recipes so much as from what the day hands her.

Except for one. On her forearm, tattooed among other marks that map her life, is a recipe: Pasta al Pomodoro. Her favourite dish, and perhaps a quiet reminder that no matter how far the road goes, some things don't change.

She always comes back to Jesi.

Bike trips, and a nomadic kitchen that follows one of Italy’s best-known musicians on tour, this is what shapes Maria Vittoria as much as Jesi does. Her hometown in inland Marche is heavy with history and slow to change, and the two of them don’t always understand each other. She’s an experimenter: years ago, she and her mother opened Pepe Nero, the first shop in Jesi to combine a clothing store with a restaurant. Clothes and food under one roof, bureaucracy had no category for it. Jesi wasn’t sure what to make of that. It rarely is.

And yet. There is something fitting about a chef like Maria Vittoria coming from a place like this. Jesi is unhurried, layered, not easily impressed. It resists the quick gesture, the shortcut, the thing done just well enough. She has inherited something of that, even as she’s spent most of her life moving against it.

Now, in Jesi, she is building a small dark kitchen, a base from which her food travels out. The nomadic kitchen needs a fixed point to depart from, and she is making one, quietly, in the town she keeps returning to.

When she returns, Carlotta is waiting, her dog, loyal and expectant, a small fixed point in a life that rarely stands still.

In a world of personal brands and curated identities, Maria Vittoria is harder to package. She is a chef who doesn’t stay in kitchens, a Marche girl who is rarely in Le Marche, an experimenter who keeps returning to her roots. The contradictions don’t resolve. They just keep moving, the way she does.

Where to meet Maria Vittoria

Jesi sits in inland Marche, enclosed by medieval walls, layered with history, the kind of town that doesn’t need to announce itself.

Le Marche lies on the quieter side of central Italy, between the Apennines and the Adriatic. It is not a place that announces itself. It holds, instead, a quiet density:

• 100 historic theatres,

• 315 libraries,

• 400 museums and collections,

• over 1,000 monuments, abbeys, Romanesque churches, fortresses, and castles,

• 34 archaeological sites,

• 2 ancient Roman roads,

• 27 of Italy’s most beautiful villages.

History here is not concentrated in one place. It is everywhere.

The closest airport is Ancona Falconara, just 19 kilometres from Jesi, with direct flights from London Stansted, Munich, and Paris Orly. If you’re flying internationally, Rome Fiumicino is just over three hours by car. Direct trains run from Rome; from Milan you change at Ancona.

For a designed and tailored itinerary around Le Marche — wine, food, artisans — write to hello@piccolocentro.com

Happy to help.

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Fabriano is a small town in Italy's inland Marche, and at first glance it may seem sleepy and out of the way. But its history carries unexpected weight. For centuries, this quiet corner of central Italy was at the heart of something that changed the world: the making of paper. Before Fabriano, paper was fragile and didn't last. It was the town's medieval artisans, through patient trial, intuition, and a stubborn refusal to settle, who transformed it. They invented the watermark, a way to identify the paper mill and guard against forgery. And they developed animal sizing, a glue made from hide that binds the sheet, giving it the strength to hold ink, preserve documents, and carry the printed word across generations.

Luigi Mecella often says that his work as a master papermaker is the same as it was in the thirteenth century. The same gestures, the same tools, the same patient care that goes into each sheet of paper.

Everything else has changed. Time has sped up, production has turned industrial and moved elsewhere. Speed and price have replaced patience as the measure of worth. The craft Luigi carries, built slowly and passed down over centuries, rests in a fragile balance: full of the past, with no guarantee of a future.

Luigi wonders what will become of it all: the craft, the knowledge, the small paper mill he built inside a renovated farmhouse. Making paper by hand demands a long apprenticeship. It is physical work, always in contact with water, slow and exacting, offering none of the immediate rewards our age has come to expect. Few young people are drawn to such patience. And the work pays modestly, far from the dreams of a generation that looks to influencers and footballers.

Yet Luigi has never stopped teaching. For forty years he led papermaking workshops at the Museum of Paper and Watermark, introducing children and adults to the work. Now he teaches from his own mill, a more fitting place, perhaps, where the work itself is the lesson

With him, Valentina and Federica. Valentina founded Viceversa years ago. Then she met Luigi, and everything shifted. Now Viceversa is hosted at the mill, where its members work alongside him, not at the vat, but helping make albums and notebooks, handling sales on site.

At Viceversa, people with different abilities work together. Papermaking sets the pace here, slow and demanding. It asks only that things be done well. In a place like this, inclusivity is not a principle displayed on a wall. It is something lived quietly, every day, through the work itself.

When they speak about their paper, they don’t need to convince anyone. Just a quiet certainty: they are making something good. The raw materials are cotton, hemp, untreated linen. Even the colors come from plants: alfalfa, for instance, gives the sheets a pale, quiet green.

The scent of Luigi’s small paper mill, set among the green hills outside Fabriano, is the scent of damp linen and hill air. Sheets of paper hang to dry from wooden clips, already carrying their purpose: the trace of a painter’s hand, the weight of a gesture.

Many of those painters arrive for Fabriano in Acquarello, the largest international event dedicated to art on paper, with watercolor at its heart. Artists, teachers, and amateurs from over ninety countries gather in the town, and for many of them, Luigi’s mill is the one stop they will not miss.

Then they spread out into the streets, paper in hand, and once a year Fabriano fills with color. Painters set up on street corners, in courtyards, beside medieval and Renaissance buildings that have stood here for centuries. The green hills beyond the town become their backdrop. The place where modern paper was born is, for a few days, also where it comes alive.

Among the artists and amateurs coming to Fabriano, perhaps someone will linger a little longer, drawn not only by watercolor, but by the sound of water, the weight of a wet sheet, the slow patience that papermaking demands. The same patience that keeps Luigi at the vat, teaching whoever is willing to learn. In a world that moves fast and forgets quickly, there is something quietly stubborn about a craft that refuses to disappear. Luigi may not be the last. Not yet.

Where Luigi lives

Le Marche lies on the quieter side of central Italy, between the Apennines and the Adriatic. It is not a place that announces itself. It holds, instead, a quiet density:

• 100 historic theatres

• 315 libraries

• 400 museums and collections

• over 1,000 monuments, abbeys, Romanesque churches, fortresses, and castles

• 34 archaeological sites

• 2 ancient Roman roads

• 27 of Italy’s most beautiful villages

History here is not concentrated in one place. It is everywhere.

The closest airport is Ancona, with direct flights from Munich, Paris Orly, and London Stansted. Travellers can also fly into Bologna or Rome and reach Le Marche in 2 to 3 hours by car. Direct trains run from Milan and Rome.

To visit Luigi

I design tailored itineraries around Le Marche, focused on wine, food, and the work of artisans like Luigi. If any of this interests you, write to me at hello@piccolocentro.com

Ercole’s smile catches you off guard. It’s open, steady, the smile of someone who has seen enough of the world without letting it harden him. He grew up among the gentle hills of the Marche, where summer smells of cut grass and afternoons stretch into long silences. In places like that, you learn to notice quiet beauty. To look closely. To wait. To care about small things. Ercole carried those habits with him long before he knew they would shape the life he would eventually build.

From a young age, he was determined to stand on his own feet. He didn’t want to depend on his family.
By fourteen, he was already running the village recreation centre, behind the bar, managing the bocce and tennis courts, locking up and switching off the lights at night.

Adolescence & distance

As he grew up, his hometown, Castellaro, began to feel smaller. Not because he loved it any less, but because he started to feel out of place.
He was curious in ways that didn’t always fit. Older than his years in how he observed the world.
And he was gay, something that, in a small village in the 1970s, was rarely spoken of and almost never understood.

London & rise

After finishing school, he chose London. A city where initiative is not seen as a flaw, but as a strength.
There, he turned his curiosity and sense of responsibility into a career that, at the time in Italy, would have seemed unusual: international florist and creative designer.

From then on, his talent, and his instinct for understanding the person behind the request, led him into royal households, luxury hotels, and private circles.

He worked alongside Alexander McQueen, where flowers were not decoration but part of a wider creative vision. For more than a decade, some of the world’s most visible celebrations carried his touch, from Vanity Fair’s Oscar night to Cannes.

The turn

And yet, despite those international stages, where precision is expected and nothing is left to chance, what defines him most lies elsewhere. In Le Marche, the region where he grew up.

Return & Casa Ercole

After years of travelling and teaching abroad, he now moves between England and his region. It’s here, among these hills and the steady rhythm of small villages, that his work feels fully at home.

Near Belvedere Ostrense, not far from where he was born, he restored a farmhouse and brought it back to life. He called it Casa Ercole. It is both a home and a place of encounter. Guests arrive for the countryside’s quiet, for mornings wrapped in mist and evenings that unfold slowly. They leave looking at flowers differently.

Within these walls lives the Ercole Moroni Flower School. Throughout the year, professionals and beginners gather around the same long table, working with branches, stems, and patience. There is technique, certainly. But above all there is attention, to gesture, to season, to what the land offers in that exact moment.

In this way, for Ercole, the Marche is not a mere refuge but his centre of gravity. The place that keeps him steady, without noise or display.

In his own way, this is how he gives something back: by bringing people from around the world to the place that formed him.

A Quiet Distance

In many respects, he acts as an ambassador for the Marche. Yet the title is never quite official. It remains informal, almost unspoken, recognised by individuals, rarely claimed by the region itself.

In some ways, the Marche felt much as he had left it. Beautiful. Reserved. Reluctant to explain itself. It is a region that prefers understatement, that keeps its best qualities close. It moves carefully, often individually, rarely as a chorus.

Ercole still stands slightly apart. Welcomed, but not completely embraced. Different, and aware of it.

Perhaps this is part of the Marche’s contradiction. It wants to be discovered, yet hesitates to step forward. It hopes to be known, but resists exposure.

And for those who arrive from elsewhere, that subtle friction, between pride and reserve, openness and restraint, becomes part of the experience.

It is not always comfortable.

But it is honest.

And it is unmistakably Le Marche.

Would You Like to Meet Ercole?

Your next destination is Le Marche.

The closest airport is Ancona (Falconara), with direct flights from Munich, Paris Orly, and London Stansted. International travellers can also fly into Bologna (about 2 hours by car) or Rome (around 3 hours). Ancona is well connected by train, with direct routes from Milan and Rome.

Why Le Marche?

This is a region of quiet density:

• 100 historic theatres

• 315 libraries

• 400 museums and collections

• Over 1,000 monuments, abbeys, Romanesque churches, fortresses, castles

• 34 archaeological sites

• 2 ancient Roman roads

• 27 of Italy’s most beautiful villages

History here is not concentrated in one place. It is everywhere.

How can I help?

I design tailored experiences in Le Marche focused on wine, food, and the work of artisans like Ercole.

If you would like to explore the region beyond the obvious routes, you can write to me at: hello@piccolocentro.com

Strength Formed in the Kitchen

Simonetta is small but strong. Her strength comes from the trials of life she has overcome and from continuous training, not in a gym, but in the kitchen, where for years she has been rolling out the dough with determination and grace.

She didn’t yet realize that this simple gesture would one day open a door into a deeper, quieter, more genuine Italy that most travelers will never encounter unless someone like Simonetta or Piccolo Centro guides them into it.

A Tradition Observed, Not Yet Lived

Raised in a family where her grandmother made pasta, she grew up breathing in that tradition. But at the time, she was only a spectator; handmade pasta wasn’t yet her path. After school, she followed the route many do, taking a job in an office, where she stayed until her commercial role lost its focus on customers’ needs and became a chase for numbers and turnover.

A Pause That Opened a Door

Being home without a job didn’t feel like a defeat. It felt like relief.
With time to think, she went back to school, restaurant management this round. And something gentle stirred. Memories returned: her grandmother at the kitchen table, hands dusted with flour, rolling out thin sheets of pasta.

In that rhythm, she found a direction. A simple act became a beginning, leading her toward a job she wasn’t yet ready for but started anyway.

At the Door With a Rolling Pin

She started showing up at restaurant doors, asking for a chance, armed with nerve and a rolling pin. A Sfoglina, that’s what they call the women who still make pasta by hand, as it was once made at home, with patience and touch.

No machines. No shortcuts. Just flour, rhythm, and the quiet memory of her grandmother’s hands.

Bit by bit, her craft deepened. Diners would pause to watch her work, the dough stretching thin under the pin, the old gesture turning, once again, into something alive.

Setback and Adaptation

And just as everything was coming together and the foundations of a new profession were taking shape, the unexpected struck: a serious accident that forced her to stop, undergo long treatment, rest, and work through the trauma. In her recovery, working the dough once again lifted her back up, this time through a technique from the Bologna area that distributes physical effort more evenly and allowed her to continue her work as a sfoglina. Pasta became her therapy: a steady, familiar gesture that helped her rebuild strength, focus, and confidence.

A Leap Across the Ocean

Then came a turning point: a meeting with a restaurateur from the Marche region who had moved to the U.S. and invited her to the East Coast.

Simonetta took the leap and went to America to work as a Sfoglina. She began teaching both professionals and enthusiasts how to make fresh pasta from scratch. In restaurants, she prepared it right in front of the guests.

That was the start of many collaborations in Los Angeles, Florida, Washington, D.C., and also as a college instructor in Florida. Moving between places, she opened herself to different cultures without ever losing the in-depth bond with her home region of Le Marche, where she now runs countless cooking and fresh-pasta workshops in collaboration with Slow Food, the international organization that promotes local food and traditional cooking.

But Simonetta is not only a pasta maker; she has become a prominent voice in Italian cuisine. She was crowned Lady Chef 2024, the Best Female Chef chosen by the National Association of Female Chefs. A journey that started at the pasta board and rose all the way to the national stage.

Pasta in Piazza

Celebrating the beauty of her region also means taking her classes outdoors, into the squares of pristine hilltop villages or the historic center of cities like Ancona.
Here, pasta-making becomes a kind of stage set: historical buildings behind her, people of all ages and nationalities gathered in front of her, learning a gesture that has shaped family kitchens for generations.

Experiences like this teach more than a recipe.
They reveal an Italy that lives beyond the postcard, the small towns untouched by tourism, and the communities where traditions are still practiced, not performed.

Through Simonetta’s hands, people learn to make pasta. And this craft has a quiet power: it comforts, restores, and brings people together. A kind of pasta therapy for anyone willing to slow down and meet a quieter, truer Italy through her courses.

Would You Like to Meet Simonetta?

If so, your next destination is Le Marche, a region rich in history, culture, and craftsmanship.

The closest airport is Falconara (Ancona), with direct flights to and from Munich, Paris Orly, and London Stansted. If you’re flying internationally, the nearest major airports are Bologna (a 2-hour drive) and Rome (a 3-hour drive). Alternatively, Ancona is well-connected by train, with direct routes from Milan and Rome.

Exploring Le Marche: A Cultural Treasure Trove

Once you arrive, you’ll find yourself in a region with a diffuse cultural heritage. Just to give you a glimpse:

• 100 historic theaters

• 315 libraries

• 400 museums and collections

• Over 1,000 monuments, including abbeys, Romanesque churches, sanctuaries, fortresses, and castles

• 34 archaeological sites

• Two ancient Roman roads

• 27 of Italy’s most beautiful historical villages

Le Marche is a place where history, tradition, and creativity come together, making it the perfect setting to meet Simonetta and attend her cooking classes.

How can I help?

As a tour leader specializing in the Le Marche region, I craft tailored experiences focused on the region’s finest offerings, from wine and food tastings to immersive artisan workshops. If you want to go beyond the tourist trails to discover the true spirit of Italy, please contact me at hello@piccolocentro.com

Elke’s choice to study music and dedicate herself to the accordion became a turning point. In her German family, music was part of everyday life, and when it came time to choose an instrument, perhaps to distinguish herself from her siblings, she chose the accordion.

Love, Roots, and Castelfidardo

Through this choice she met her husband, heir to Castelfidardo’s oldest accordion maker. Castelfidardo, nestled in the Marche between hills and sea, is the heart of handcrafted accordions. For more than 150 years, artisans here have built them the old way: slow, exacting, every piece unique. The result? Instruments cherished worldwide.

The accordion is a full-body instrument. It’s not just fingers on keys and buttons, but moving with the bellows, as if sharing its breath. Some weigh up to 12 kilograms (26 pounds), and that heft, together with the push and pull of air, makes playing less about technique alone and more about inhabiting the instrument.

A Town and Its Instrument

The bond between Castelfidardo and the accordion began almost by chance. In the late 1800s, a German pilgrim stopped on his way to the Basilica of Loreto, carrying a small accordion. Its sound so enchanted his host’s son that, overnight, the boy took the instrument apart to see how it worked, and then built it anew. That boy was Paolo Soprani, who went on to found the town’s first artisan accordion workshop.

His passion spread. Neighbors joined in, and Castelfidardo became the world capital of this craft. Its supremacy was never surpassed: even foreign investors who tried their luck here had to rely on local artisans to achieve quality.

The Rise, the Fall, the Return

Born as a popular folk instrument, the accordion went through phases of great success, reaching its peak in the 1950s, when it became the most exported Italian product worldwide. Long before fashion, wine, and Italian food, the accordion was the true symbol of Made in Italy across the globe.

Its sound spread not only through trade but also with countless Italian emigrants, who longed to keep their traditions alive and play the music of home wherever they settled.

With the rise of Rock ’n’ Roll and the love for the electric guitar, the accordion was gradually abandoned and forgotten, only to be revived later by jazz musicians, who rediscovered it and brought it back into their repertoires.

Elke’s Life in Castelfidardo

Elke lived this rebirth up close. In 1995, she moved to Castelfidardo, a town that then had neither cinema nor bookshop, and learned to adapt to the rhythm of a small, grounded community.

With her musical background, she soon became a point of contact for musicians worldwide seeking a handcrafted accordion. She knows its thousands of parts, about 8,300 in all, inside and out. At the heart are the bellows, like lungs that push air across slender metal reeds, giving the instrument its voice. Opening and closing the bellows is like breathing, producing a sound close to the human voice.

For Elke, the accordion remains at the heart of her life and family. She is no longer just the wife of the son of Castelfidardo’s oldest accordion maker, but a full partner, dedicated to preserving and passing on this tradition. Beyond sharing her craft and passion with her children, she founded a one-of-a-kind school for accordion repairers, which in recent years has drawn more than 400 students from around the world, captivated by the universal appeal of the instrument. For them, it’s a rare opportunity: to learn the secrets of the accordion from the world’s finest craftsmen while also discovering a genuine, welcoming corner of Italy far removed from mass tourism; the Marche region.

A place where craft and landscape speak together. From here, the accordion carries forward a voice of memory and tradition that still feels close to our own.

If you want to meet Elke

Your destination is Castelfidardo, a small hill town in Italy’s Marche region, just a few kilometers from the Adriatic coast.

The nearest airport is Falconara (Ancona), with direct flights from Munich, Paris Orly, and London Stansted. For international travelers, the larger hubs are Bologna (about a two-hour drive) and Rome (around three hours by car).

If you’re arriving by car, take the A14 freeway toward Pescara and exit at Ancona Sud.

Exploring Le Marche: A Cultural Treasure Trove

Arriving here, you’ll discover a region with an extraordinary and widespread cultural heritage. Here’s a glimpse of what awaits:

• 100 historic theaters

• 315 libraries

• 400 museums and collections

• Over 1,000 monuments, including abbeys, Romanesque churches, sanctuaries, fortresses, and castles

• 34 archaeological sites

• Two ancient Roman roads

• 27 of Italy’s most beautiful historical villages

Le Marche is a place where history, tradition, and creativity come together, making it the perfect setting to meet Elke.

How can Piccolo Centro help?

As a tour leader in Le Marche and wine professional, I create tailored experiences, from tastings to artisan workshops. To discover Italy beyond the tourist trails, contact me at hello@piccolocentro.com

From fishing village to tourist haven

Aldo Iurini is from Numana, a small town on the Adriatic Sea, known today for its clear waters, pastel-colored houses, and quiet charm. It regularly receives the Blue Flag, an award recognizing coastal towns that protect the environment and keep their beaches clean.

When Aldo was a boy, Numana was still a fishing village tucked under Monte Conero, the lone limestone promontory between Trieste and the Gargano. It was quieter then, shaped more by the sea than by visitors. Fishing boats lined the shore, and most families, like Aldo’s, lived close to the rhythms of fishing and the seasons.

Numana’s history runs deep, reaching back to the Piceni people, then the Greeks and Romans traders who came for commerce and remained for the sea. Traces of their presence survive in the Antiquarium, the town’s small museum, where objects from prehistory to the Roman age tell the stories of those who lived here long before tourism arrived.

A life shaped by wood and salt

Aldo and his brothers began working early, just eleven, helping their father in the shipyard. They swept the floors, stacked lengths of timber, and returned tools to their place, learning not through instruction but through repetition, through watching.

Boats were still made of wood then. They carried the scent of pine, salt, and sweat, materials shaped by hand, under the gaze of men who had done this work all their lives. Aldo’s father was one of them, a master shipwright, though no one said it out loud. Titles didn’t matter. What mattered was that the boat held steady when the sea turned rough.

Almost ninety years after the family shipyard was founded, Aldo is still there, standing in his father’s place, still shaping wood. But its small town is no longer the place he grew up in. Numana has changed completely. He has lived the transformation firsthand, watching the fishing village turn into a tourist destination and seeing wealth arrive with the visitors, sunseekers, vacationers, money.

The fishermen became hoteliers and restaurateurs. Nets were traded for menus. The old trades were left behind, one by one. Among them, the craft of the master shipwright. Technology brought new ways. New materials; fiberglass, aluminum, steel. Faster, cheaper, easier. Wood became a memory. Aldo and his family tried to keep up and started to build in series for a while. They used the new materials, but it didn’t last.

The satisfaction wasn’t there, not like wood under the hand. So they went back to what they knew: building wooden boats, or bringing the old ones back to life, slowly, precisely, the way it had always been done.

The vanishing of a craft

Aldo works alone. No apprentices, no one to pass the tools to. The craft of the master shipwright no longer seems to attract the younger generations.

“One day,” Aldo says, “this art will disappear.”
But there’s no bitterness in his voice. He accepts that times change, and with them, the work people choose.

What troubles him runs deeper. It’s not just the fading of a trade, it’s the fading of the values he grew up with. In his youth, people looked out for each other. There was a sense of community, of shared purpose. Now, it feels like only money matters, always more, never enough.

It’s this relentless hunger, this constant reaching for more, that fills Aldo with a quiet, persistent melancholy.

He sees it clearly in Numana: the rush to turn every remaining corner of the old fishing village into B&Bs and restaurants. In this rush, there’s no space for Aldo’s dream, a small museum to honor the shipwright’s craft, to leave behind a trace, a memory, something to say: this mattered. So far, that dream remains just that. There’s always space for another hotel. But never for a museum dedicated to the crafts of the sea.

One man’s quiet legacy

Without a museum, Aldo still tries to pass on his craft, and, more than that, the memory of what Numana was before tourism. He does this through the quiet work of writing. In his books, he retraces the town’s history as he lived it: his childhood by the sea, the dark years of the Second World War, and the moments of courage and solidarity shown by its people, especially toward those who were persecuted, including Jews.

Fishermen’s boats were often used to help those in danger escape, quiet, unrecorded acts of bravery and compassion. These missions risked the lives of the townspeople, people who had little, yet were always willing to give much. It is a spirit Aldo still remembers, and one Numana cannot afford to lose.

If you want meet Aldo

Your destination is Numana a seaside town in Italy’s Le Marche region tucked under Monte Conero, the only stretch of limestone coast between Trieste and the Gargano.

The nearest airport to Numana is Falconara (Ancona), with direct flights from Munich, Paris Orly, and London Stansted. For international travelers, the closest major airports are Bologna (about a 2-hour drive) and Rome (around 3 hours by car).
Alternatively, you can reach Numana by train, with direct routes from Milan and Rome to Ancona. From there, the town is just a short 20-minute drive away.

Exploring Le Marche: A Cultural Treasure Trove

Arriving here, you’ll discover a region with an extraordinary and widespread cultural heritage. Here’s a glimpse of what awaits:

• 100 historic theaters

• 315 libraries

• 400 museums and collections

• Over 1,000 monuments, including abbeys, Romanesque churches, sanctuaries, fortresses, and castles

• 34 archaeological sites

• Two ancient Roman roads

• 27 of Italy’s most beautiful historical villages

Le Marche is a place where history, tradition, and creativity come together, making it the perfect setting to meet Aldo.

How can Piccolo Centro help?

As a tour leader specializing in Le Marche region, we craft tailored experiences focused on the region’s finest offerings, from wine and food tastings to immersive artisan workshops. If you want to go beyond the tourist trails to discover the true spirit of Italy, please contact me at: hello@piccolocentro.com

From the Adriatic to Belvedere Ostrense

The road from the Adriatic Sea winds through gentle hills and neatly kept houses. Along the way, small sheds and workshops hint at the presence of artisans, their quiet, steady work shaping the character of the Le Marche region. Within minutes, the sea fades behind you, and Belvedere Ostrense comes into view: a medieval village of 2,000 souls, perched 250 meters above it all.

Long before it became a medieval stronghold, Belvedere Ostrense was a Roman outpost, built to watch over the valley and guard the sea. In many ways, it still watches. On clear summer days, from this quiet hilltop, you can see far beyond the Adriatic, all the way to the coast of Albania.

In the early 2000s, Antonio and Manola left their hometown of Pozzuoli, near Naples, to start a new life. They chose peace over noise, nature over speed. Belvedere Ostrense had what they were looking for: beauty, quiet, and a sense of community still intact. It was the perfect place to raise a family, and to build their restaurant, La Taverna degli Archi

A sudden darkness

Antonio and Manola quickly became part of the village. The small town welcomed them with warmth and cheered as their restaurant rose to become one of the best in the Le Marche region.

Then came New Year’s Eve, 2005. A firework accident severed Antonio’s optic nerve. He lost his sight.

Darkness descended not only in Antonio’s eyes, but in his heart. What now? Especially with his first child on the way; Manola had learned she was pregnant just days after the accident.

A return of the senses

Perhaps it was that small life growing inside his wife that kept Antonio from losing hope. Or perhaps it was something else, something beginning to stir.

During his convalescence, as he walked through the streets of Belvedere Ostrense, he realized he could smell what people were cooking. The scents drifted from open windows: sauces, roasts, fresh bread. He recognized the dishes one by one. His nose worked. His memory, too.

Six months after the accident, Antonio returned to his restaurant, which had remained closed since that night. He picked up the knives, the pots, the pans, first under Manola’s watchful eye, then on his own. Slowly, he began to understand: if he focused, if he trusted his other senses, he could cook again.

Sight gave way to smell. He could tell when a dish was done just by its scent. He sensed when fruit was ripe or when vegetables were ready by smell alone. His eyes had become his nose, his mouth, and his ears.

And with full concentration, memorizing every part of the kitchen, every movement, he learned to work without injury.
The more focused he became, the faster he moved. The more precise he got.

That’s when he understood: he wasn’t diminished. He had strengthened parts of himself he once overlooked. A world had opened up to Antonio that he had never known before. The quality of his dishes had improved dramatically, leading him to represent the Italian National League of Chefs and to travel the world, sharing his story and collaborating with renowned chefs, including three-Michelin-starred chef Antonino Cannavacciuolo.

A broader vision

If working without sight sharpened Antonio’s other senses, it also deepened his awareness of the struggles of those around him. Little by little, his attention to social issues grew, not out of duty, but from a renewed sense of connection.

Today, Antonio serves as Honorary President of the Department of Solidarity and Emergencies (DSE) within the Federazione Italiana Cuochi (FIC), the Italian Federation of Chefs. The DSE is a dynamic branch that works alongside civil protection services during natural disasters and emergencies, managing field kitchens across Italy and Europe.

Antonio has also become a powerful advocate for people with disabilities, not only through his story but through his ongoing public presence. In July 2024, he represented the Italian Federation of Chefs at the 17th Annual Conference of States Parties to the UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities, held at the United Nations Headquarters in New York.

A world remembered, and missed

Antonio’s story is, in many ways, one of transformation. He passed through darkness and emerged changed, not broken, but reassembled with greater clarity and purpose. Blindness forced him to redesign his life, and in doing so, he discovered a new kind of balance, deepening even his craft in the kitchen.

Sight, once part of his life, left him with images he still carries: his wife’s face, the places he lived, the objects he touches each day in the kitchen.

But there is one absence memory cannot mend. When he speaks of his children, born after the accident, his voice shifts. He has never seen their faces, and no recollection, however vivid, can conjure what the eyes have never known.

If you want to meet Antonio, and taste his food …

Your destination is Le Marche region, where Belvedere Ostrense is located, just few kilometers away from the Adriatic Sea.

The nearest airport to Belvedere Ostrense is Falconara (Ancona), with direct flights from Munich, Paris Orly, and London Stansted. For international travelers, the closest major airports are Bologna (about a 2-hour drive) and Rome (around 3 hours by car).
Alternatively, Belvedere Ostrense is accessible by train, with direct connections from Milan. The nearest station is Senigallia, located approximately 20 minutes away by car.

Exploring Le Marche: A Cultural Treasure Trove

Once you arrive, you’ll find yourself in a region with an extraordinary, diffuse cultural heritage. Just to give you a glimpse:

• 100 historic theaters

• 315 libraries

• 400 museums and collections

• Over 1,000 monuments, including abbeys, Romanesque churches, sanctuaries, fortresses, and castles

• 34 archaeological sites

• Two ancient Roman roads

• 27 of Italy’s most beautiful historical villages

Le Marche is a place where history, tradition, and creativity come together, making it the perfect setting to meet Antonio and experience his cuisine.

How can Piccolo Centro help?

As a tour leader specializing in Le Marche region, we craft tailored experiences focused on the region’s finest offerings, from wine and food tastings to immersive artisan workshops. If you want to go beyond the tourist trails to discover the true spirit of Italy, please contact me at: hello@piccolocentro.com

At first glance, Senigallia seems like a typical provincial seaside town: a fine sandy beach, a seafront promenade edged by slow-paced cycle paths, fragrant sea air, and a well-kept historic center refreshingly free of chain stores.

Yet here, a quiet, crunchy revolution is underway, a bread revolution, led by a young woman who traded a career in management for the oven. Today, she’s an acclaimed baker, sought after by Michelin-starred chefs and embraced by all who care deeply about the food they eat. Her name is Francesca Casci Ceccacci.

From the Office to the Oven

Francesca grew up in Senigallia, where her grandmother didn’t just teach her to cook, she gave her a sense of home. At the stove, stirring pots and burning her fingers on hot pans, Francesca found more than recipes. She discovered where the food came from, who grew it, who made it, and in that, she found where she belonged. Her passion for food stayed with her through university in Bologna and later during her time, as a manager, at a major food company in Turin. There, she learned the ins and outs of industrial food production, but found it hard to connect with a system that treated food as nothing more than a commodity.

A few years ago, Francesca returned to Le Marche in search of something real. She took a job on a farm where food came from the soil, not spreadsheets. And in that quiet return, she met a master baker, one who taught her more than technique: he taught her patience, presence, and how to listen to the dough.

Her bakery, Pandefrà, (short for Francesca’s bread), isn’t a place for predictable loaves. The bread changes with the weather, the hands that shape it, and the grains grown nearby. Each loaf carries more than flavor: it holds stories of biodiversity, shared labor, and a community slowly rising, like dough, back to life.

Francesca is part of a new generation of bakers who view bread not just as nourishment, but as a way to reconnect people, with each other, with the land, and with the rhythms of time.

Many of these bakers came to the craft from entirely different backgrounds, leaving behind careers in offices, laboratories, or academia. In 2018, 82 of them came together to form the Associazione Panificatori Agricoli Urbani (Urban Bakers Association), united by the belief that bread can help mend the social and ecological fabric of towns and cities. Today, Francesca serves as its President.

More Than Bread

They want to bring bread back to the center of how we eat and live, not as a product, but as a process rooted in land, time, and care. Their tools are: unrefined flours, heritage grains, and relationships with local farmers that bypass the industrial food chain entirely. Recipes are shared, not guarded. Knowledge flows freely between bakers and apprentices, across cities and countrysides. A quiet network grows, connecting hands, soil, and stories. These bakeries are more than shops; they’re welcoming spaces where bread becomes nourishment, conversation and, at times, a quiet act of revolution.

Rethinking the Bakery

But for Francesca, sustainability doesn’t stop at the soil. It extends to how a bakery is owned, supported, and built to last. Together with a handful of like-minded bakers, Francesca has helped build something rare: a collective bakery model, where each member gives up a piece of their own business to create something shared. It’s the first initiative of its kind in the baking world, at least in Italy.

They’ve raised funds not from banks, but from people, through equity crowdfunding and other participatory tools. Not to scale up endlessly, but to grow slowly, intentionally, so that every bakery stays healthy, independent, and rooted in the communities it feeds.

Perhaps the most revolutionary part of Francesca’s story isn’t the bread. It’s her. A woman with vision, in a small provincial town, who dare to stand apart and find her own path. Success, when it doesn’t follow familiar lines, can unsettle and can be met with distance.

It will take time. To see that the bread that seems cheaper is the one that costs more, because it doesn’t last, because it wasn’t meant to. To see that real bread, made with care from grain to hand to table, doesn’t just feed. It sustains, people, land, ideas.

Probably it will take time to believe that a small bakery in a quiet town can think this way. But time is what her bread has. It lasts. It teaches. One slice at a time.

If you want to meet Francesca,

Your destination is Senigallia, a seaside town in Italy’s Le Marche region which holds a surprising record: more Michelin stars per capita than anywhere else in the country. Senigallia is a town with two speeds; lively in summer with tourists and international festivals like the Summer Jamboree where pompadours, petticoats, and pure rock ’n’ roll nostalgia turn the town into a jukebox from the golden age of America.

But when the music fades and the tourists drift away, Senigallia exhales. The rhythm slows. Locals reclaim their piazzas. The sea still shines, but whispers now instead of roars. It is the best time to enjoy this town and its surroundings

.

To reach Senigallia, the nearest airport is Falconara (Ancona), offering direct flights to and from Munich, Paris Orly, and London Stansted. For international travelers, the closest major airports are Bologna (approximately a 2-hour drive) and Rome (around a 3-hour drive). Alternatively, Senigallia is easily accessible by train, with direct connections from Milan.

Senigallia is your doorway to Le Marche, one of Italy’s most beautiful and least known regions. Here, culture isn’t confined to museums; it lives in hilltop villages, lingers in the worn stones of Roman roads, and resonates through castles, churches, and theaters built long before Italy had a name.

How can Piccolo Centro help?

As a tour leader specializing in the Le Marche region, I design custom experiences that showcase its most authentic treasures, from wine and food tastings to hands-on artisan workshops. If you're looking to go beyond the usual tourist paths and discover the true soul of Italy, I’d love to hear from you: hello@piccolocentro.com

Unlike many winemakers who were born into farming families and grew up familiar with the land, Chris Marino became a winemaker by choice. And it wasn’t an obvious one. Chris is a New Yorker who, in 2017, decided to change his life and move to Italy.

A definite shift; from city skyline to a vineyard of four hectares on soft, green hills, overlooked by an 18th-century castle, with the Adriatic Sea just ten minutes away.

Chris is no stranger to change. Throughout his life, he’s often found himself at a crossroads—and has consistently chosen the less obvious path, the one that ultimately brought him closer to his passions and led him to Italy, the land of his family’s origins.

It feels like he’s already lived three lives: first in New York, working in private hedge funds; then in the world of catering and hospitality; and now, as a full-fledged winemaker, moving between the vineyard rows, the cellar, and hosting guests.

Chris arrived in Monterado almost by chance, during a training period at the restaurant Uliassi, now awarded three Michelin stars, in Senigallia, on the Adriatic coast. But it was the Le Marche hinterland that truly won him over, with its gentle hills, authentic villages, and little-known stories full of meaning.

Like the story of Frattula, a unique medieval community that once thrived in Monterado and the surrounding area. Led by enlightened monks, farmers shared land, labor, and goods in a spirit of solidarity and Christian values, free from the usual burdens of the feudal system. It was an innovative social experiment, built on cooperation and the specialization of work, and its legacy still echoes today in the deep bond the people of Monterado have with the land.

This forward-thinking model lasted for centuries until the Church, increasingly driven by financial interests, ended it. It viewed the system as a dangerous experiment, one that could be replicated elsewhere and threaten papal revenues. Yet this bold example of social innovation is rarely mentioned in history books, which tend to focus more on battles and conquests than on quiet revolutions in everyday life.

Chris has his own “community” too, made up first and foremost of his family, but also of those who work alongside him, like René, his right-hand man. René has been working on the estate for many years, even before Chris arrived. Tall and broad, with a warm smile, he’s a Swiss man, gentle and big-hearted, who, like Chris, chose Italy many years ago.

Chris has had to learn a lot, and he keeps learning, day by day, often by looking inward. Getting to know himself is part of the journey, allowing him to create wines that reflect who he truly is. His New York soul still peeks through in his labels: stylish, modern, and with a distinctly metropolitan edge.

His journey hasn’t always been smooth. COVID hit just as his life as a winemaker was beginning, a time already marked by the challenges of settling in a new country, learning a new language, and earning the trust of a close-knit local community.

Eight years on, he’s still here. Rooted in Monterado, where he and his wife are raising their children and crafting elegant wines free from the constraints of official denominations. With each passing season, he’s more focused, more grounded, raising a family and tending his vines in a place where time moves differently, and connection still matters.

Like the one he has recently started by joining “Vignaioli delle Marche,” a consortium of local artisan winemakers committed to sharing knowledge, supporting one another, and growing together. Like him, many of its members left behind former careers to embrace sustainable and organic winemaking in Le Marche, a region still undiscovered by many, where community matters as much as the wine itself. Here, native grapes like Verdicchio, Pecorino, and Lacrima di Morro d’Alba thrive alongside international varieties, all finding their place in this unique landscape. It’s a reminder that the spirit of collaboration and belonging still runs deep in these hills.

Where to Find Chris

If you're planning a visit, head to Monterado, a small hilltop village in the Le Marche region. Just a few minutes from the Adriatic coast, Monterado offers the perfect blend of countryside calm and coastal charm. It’s also where you’ll find Tenuta Marino.

The closest airport is Falconara (Ancona), with direct flights from Munich, Paris Orly, and London Stansted. For broader international connections, Bologna is about 2 hours away by car, and Rome is roughly 3 hours.

Monterado is also accessible by train: you can take a direct route from Milan to Senigallia, just a few kilometers from the village.

Exploring Le Marche: A Cultural and Gourmet Treasure Trove

Once you arrive, you’ll discover a region with an extraordinary cultural heritage and deep-rooted food and wine traditions. Just to give you a glimpse:

• 100 historic theaters

• 315 libraries

• 400 museums and collections

• Over 1,000 monuments, including abbeys, Romanesque churches, sanctuaries, fortresses, and castles

• 34 archaeological sites

• Two ancient Roman roads

• 27 of Italy’s most beautiful historic villages (Borghi più belli d’Italia)

• 13 DOP & IGP-certified food products

• 16 DOP wines

• 154 traditional regional food specialties

How can Piccolo Centro help?

As a tour leader specializing in Le Marche region, I craft tailored experiences focused on the region’s finest offerings—from wine and food tastings to immersive artisan workshops. If you want to go beyond the tourist trails to discover the true spirit of Italy, please contact me at: hello@piccolocentro.com

Discovering a Place Through Its People

To really understand a place, you have to meet the people who live there. And often, in the quieter corners of the countryside or small towns, like here in Le Marche there’s more than meets the eye. Away from the usual tourist routes, life moves at its own pace, revealing stories and experiences that visitors rarely stumble upon.

Take Ostra, a small town tucked into the rolling hills, just a short drive from the Adriatic Sea. It might seem far removed from the fashion capitals, yet it’s home to Gaia, a champion of sustainable fashion. More than a brand, she has built a close-knit community of clients, suppliers, friends, and artists, where dialogue, creativity, and shared values shape something truly unique.

Gaia’s work is a blend of design, ethical principles, and a digital presence that’s both fun and informative, a combination that has made her a leading voice in sustainable fashion in Italy. In an industry caught between fast fashion and luxury giants, she stands as a refreshing and inspiring alternative.

Before becoming an entrepreneur, Gaia worked as a consultant for renowned fashion brands, experiencing firsthand the industry's transformations. She witnessed a growing shift towards outsourcing, seeking cheaper labor abroad or imposing frantic production timelines and unfair payment terms on artisans, who often operate as subcontractors.

In recent years, these conditions have only worsened, exacerbated by the slowdown in key markets like China and the closure of others, such as Russia and the Middle East.

A Sustainable Production Model

Anticipating these challenges, Gaia made a bold choice, she questioned the status quo and started anew, focusing on the small, the local, and, above all, the materials that already existed.

This is how her entrepreneurial project was born, carrying her name and a clear vision: fashion as a process of repurposing high-quality raw materials and working exclusively with nearby suppliers, none further than 70 km from her workshop.

This proximity allows her to oversee the entire production process with ease. More than just suppliers, these artisans become collaborators, shaping each piece together. Production timelines are agreed upon, never dictated by external pressures, ensuring a sustainable and respectful way of working.

Turning Leftovers into Beauty

The fine yarns used in Gaia’s collections come from surplus stock left in warehouses. These leftovers are often vibrant and colorful, as the more traditional shades, black, brown, and navy are in higher demand and rarely go unsold.

Here, what would otherwise be discarded takes center stage, transforming into a joyful collection of colorful sweaters and scarves.

The designs are intentionally few and timeless, a stark contrast to the fast fashion cycle that saturates the market with an endless stream of cheap, disposable clothing. Sizes are also limited, as each piece is designed for a versatile fit that flatters all women, from petite to curvy. Playful and free from stereotypes, these pieces step outside conventional beauty standards.

Sustainability also extends beyond the purchase—through a post-sales repair and mending service, ensuring each garment lasts as long as possible.

All of this fuels a low-budget communication strategy that uses social media not just to showcase, but to tell the story of the work itself, as well as the principles and values of a counterculture striving to create and spread new production processes. It’s a bottom-up, small-scale approach that relies on technology as a key ally in driving change.

A Different Way to Travel

Visiting an artisan like Gaia while traveling through Italy isn’t just about shopping—it’s about connecting with the spirit of the place.

She, like many others, represents a heritage of craftsmanship and dedication that has shaped regions like Le Marche for centuries. This deep-rooted expertise is woven into the land and its people, yet it often struggles to thrive in a market dominated by fashion multinationals and fast fashion.

Truly sustainable tourism isn’t just a passing trend—it’s about making choices that support local economies and keep artisanal traditions alive.

Have We Inspired You to Meet Gaia?

If so, your next destination is Le Marche—a region rich in history, culture, and craftsmanship.

The closest airport is Falconara (Ancona), with direct flights to and from Munich, Paris Orly, and London Stansted. If you're flying internationally, the nearest major airports are Bologna (a 2-hour drive) and Rome (a 3-hour drive). Alternatively, Ancona is well-connected by train, with direct routes from Milan and Rome.

From Ancona, it’s just a 40-minute drive to Ostra, the small town where Gaia’s world of sustainable fashion comes to life.

Exploring Le Marche: A Cultural Treasure Trove

Once you arrive, you’ll find yourself in a region with an extraordinary diffuse cultural heritage. Just to give you a glimpse:

• 100 historic theaters

• 315 libraries

• 400 museums and collections

• Over 1,000 monuments, including abbeys, Romanesque churches, sanctuaries, fortresses, and castles

• 34 archaeological sites

• Two ancient Roman roads

• 27 of Italy’s most beautiful historical villages

Le Marche is a place where history, tradition, and creativity come together—making it the perfect setting to meet Gaia and experience her world of sustainable fashion.

How can Piccolo Centro help?

As a tour leader specializing in Le Marche region, I craft tailored experiences focused on the region’s finest offerings—from wine and food tastings to immersive artisan workshops. If you want to go beyond the tourist trails to discover the true spirit of Italy, please contact me at: hello@piccolocentro.com

At first glance, Spinetoli, a small town in southern Marche near a road junction, might seem like just another industrious but unremarkable provincial spot. It’s not the kind of place most tourists think to visit. But Spinetoli holds a secret, a reason to pause, discover, and be inspired—a restaurant unlike any other.

A Restaurant with Heart and Purpose

Locanda Centimetro Zero, which translates to "Zero Food Miles," is far more than a place to enjoy a meal. It’s a life project where good food meets purpose, and where disability becomes a cornerstone of creativity, community, and connection.

Here, there are no celebrity chefs but young individuals with intellectual disabilities. They grow their own produce, serve customers with pride, attend training courses, and breathe new life into old furniture, turning it into artistic pieces that adorn the restaurant or find new homes with appreciative buyers.

The name "Zero" signifies more than just local food—it’s about eliminating the distance between people of all abilities. It’s about creating a tightly knit community rooted in care, creativity, and sustainability.

A Model of Holistic Integration

While social enterprises employing individuals with disabilities are not unheard of in Italy, Locanda Centimetro Zero stands out for the breadth of its vision. Integration here spans work, creativity, self-sufficiency, recycling, education, and even agriculture.

In addition to their garden, the team—with guidance from a Roberto Cipresso a renowned winemaker in Tuscany—produces four wines, from vineyard to bottle. But their journey doesn’t stop there. Through the support of psychologists and educators, the young people embark on a path of emotional growth, exploring relationships and self-awareness.

The restaurant is the culmination of a larger mission: to nurture the whole person—feelings, work, creativity, and social belonging.

From Small Beginnings to Big Impact

It all started in 2015 with a grant and the determination of Roberta d’Emidio and Enrico Mandozzi, two socially conscious professionals. What began as a daytime community center has evolved into a cooperative involving 40 individuals aged 20 to 40, all with intellectual disabilities.

Roberta and Enrico are also the passionate managers of Locanda Centimetro Zero and describe their approach as "cooking therapy." It’s more than just preparing meals—it's a holistic experience. The act of crafting dishes through shared creativity, interacting with diners who come not just for food but for a unique and welcoming connection with the team, has profound effects on the health and well-being of the young staff.

For many, this journey has led to reduced reliance on medication, while the thoughtfully crafted menu, featuring local and self-produced ingredients, helps tackle common challenges like managing weight tied to their conditions. Income is distributed based on their dedication and contributions, fostering a true sense of ownership and pride.

This is more than a business—it’s a transformative project where food nourishes the body, creativity feeds the soul, and community strengthens the spirit.

National Recognition and a Global Message

The fame of Locanda Centimetro Zero has transcended Marche. Italian President Sergio Mattarella praised their work in his end-of-year address, and Pope Francis welcomed them to the Vatican. On such occasions, the team presents handcrafted gifts like their signature chairs, each featuring an inspiring quote.

One such chair, gifted to President Mattarella, bore these words by Charles Evans Hughes: “When we lose the right to be different, we lose the right to be free.” It’s a sentiment that resonates deeply—a powerful reminder for us all.

Discovering a Different Italy

If you’re seeking a side of Italy beyond the usual tourist destinations, consider exploring less-trodden paths. The Marche region offers beauty without the crowds or inflated prices. It’s here that you’ll find the inspiring team behind Locanda Centimetro Zero.

At Piccolo Centro, we’re here to help craft a personalized itinerary, guiding you to hidden treasures like Spinetoli and beyond. The nearest airports are Rome and Pescara.

Nearby Spinetoli there are gems that include the travertine city of Ascoli Piceno and the medieval charm of Offida.

Please be free to contact us at: hello@piccolocentro.com

Wishing you joy, warmth, and discovery this holiday season 🎄

Alice Catena is blonde, refined, slender, and speaks quickly as she describes her many entrepreneurial ventures. It's hard to imagine that, as a child, she was often frail—unlike other kids, she was always bundled up, even in summer, with a hat firmly on her head.

A transformative encounter with a doctor and a successful operation helped her regain her health. Yet, her attachment to that hat, a constant presence in her early years, endured. This affection became the heart of her business, inspired by artisans descended from rural women who once wove hats from freshly harvested wheat stalks—hats that shielded men from the sun as they worked in the fields.

Functional and beautiful, these hats gradually became popular items at the local markets, where farmers would display them by hanging them from a long pole known as a “stanga.” This simple form of trade provided an alternative source of income beyond farming and became one of the earliest ways for women to earn their own income.

This artisanal hat-making tradition became the foundation of the renowned “hat district,” led by the small village of Montappone in Italy's Marche region. In the late 1800s, industrialization transformed the area, making it Europe’s foremost center for hat production. Straw, the original material, was gradually joined by more accessible and profitable fabrics like felt and cloth. This industrial growth enabled global exports but also threatened traditional craftsmanship, pushing artisan hat-making—and the craftswomen behind it—to the margins. This is where Alice and her experience as an entrepreneur comes in. From her meeting with the last historic craftswomen, concerned about the marginalization of the handcrafted tradition of natural straw hats, a project was born to revalue this ancient craft tradition through her company Montegallo. Montegallo produces the hats artisanally, as it once was, under the watchful eye of the craftswomen, ensuring each hat is a unique piece of art, distinct from the mass-produced ones.

Today, these hats have become sought-after accessories, featured in major fashion stores worldwide and favored by top fashion houses to complete their looks.

This rich tradition is preserved not only through the business itself but also by a small museum in the heart of Montappone. Here, visitors can embark on an immersive tour that brings each step of traditional hat-making to life—from gathering and selecting straw to braiding, stitching, and shaping. Visiting the museum feels like stepping back in time, with interactive displays, projections, historical photographs, and fully functioning period machinery that together tell the story of this craft.

Every year, at the end of July, a festival celebrates the art of straw craftsmanship and the cultural heritage that has grown around it, including straw processing, hat-making, and local hospitality. This festival not only keeps the tradition alive among younger generations but also invites visitors to explore Montappone’s beautiful surroundings, nestled between the Sibillini Mountains and the Adriatic Sea.

Why should you visit a small village like Montappone?

Following the path of Italy’s craft traditions, you’ll uncover timeless skills and knowledge while discovering a side of Italy that’s refreshingly off the beaten path. These lesser-known destinations are rich in heritage and authenticity, offering a deeper connection to Italian culture, away from the usual tourist crowds.

Many of these hidden gems are surprisingly accessible—such as Montappone in the Le Marche region. The closest airport is Ancona, just an hour’s drive away, and offers direct flights to Munich, Paris, and London. For more options, Bologna is just a two-hour drive, and Rome about three. Well-connected by motorways and train lines, Montappone is closer than you might think.

How can Piccolo Centro help?

If you’ve already visited Italy’s classic destinations—Venice, Florence, Rome, or the Amalfi Coast—and are ready for something more genuine, consider exploring Le Marche. Located on Italy’s Adriatic coast, this region offers a refreshing alternative, inviting you to connect more intimately with Italian culture, landscapes, and traditions.

As a tour leader specializing in Le Marche, I craft tailored experiences focused on the region’s finest offerings—from wine and food tastings to immersive artisan workshops. If you want to go beyond the tourist trails to discover the true spirit of Italy, please contact me at: hello@piccolocentro.com

One of the many beautiful surprises that await you far from the crowded tourist routes is the Omero Museum (Museo Omero), located in the charming city of Ancona in the Le Marche region of Italy. This museum, the only one of its kind in Italy and one of the very few in the world, is specifically designed for blind individuals. At this unique museum, visitors engage with art exclusively through the sense of touch, making it a true pioneer in accessibility and inclusion. It offers an enriching experience that challenges traditional perceptions of art appreciation.

In 1985, two spouses of Ancona, Aldo Grassini and Daniela Bottegoni, art enthusiasts and blind people, laid the foundations of what would become, some years later, in 1993, the Omero Museum dedicated to those with sensory limitations. In this way, an Italian provincial town pioneered disability inclusion.

The Omero Museum is housed at the Mole Vanvitelliana, a fascinating seaside architectural complex designed in the 1700s by architect Luigi Vanvitelli. Vanvitelli is famous for designing the Reggia di Caserta, one of the largest royal palaces in the world.

The Mole Vanvitelliana, originally a hospital for sea arrivals, has undergone a remarkable transformation. Situated in the city port, this building has been repurposed into a cultural center, now home to the Omero Museum. The museum consists of four floors and covers an impressive 3,000 square meters, providing a rich and grand cultural experience that showcases the adaptive reuse of historical buildings.

The museum has 200 works, including plaster and fiberglass copies of classical masterpieces, architectural models, and original contemporary sculptures. Since its opening, it has not only been a place reserved for blind people but also a cultural space without barriers, enjoyable, and a meeting and inclusion point for all.

For those gifted with sight, visiting the museum means accepting being blindfolded and feeling destabilized at first. When we only use touch to appreciate art, we feel uncertain and vulnerable, especially when we lean on a partner not bandaged to move inside the museum.

It's through empathy, by imagining ourselves in their shoes, that we can begin to understand the struggle to translate what we touch with our hands into vision.

By touch, however, we perceive so much; details, forms, textures that normal museum visits deny us. There all contact with the work is forbidden, here contact with the work is instead almost visceral.

Artworks that, before entering the Omero Museum, we thought we knew to have, after the tactile experience, a deeper and different meaning.

Touch, as a unique perspective, unveils new layers in our art experience. It's a priceless rediscovery, not just of the artwork, but of our senses. This enriching effect leaves us feeling fulfilled and complete.

Our visit to the Omero Museum is not just a visit; it's a transformative experience. We leave the museum feeling different, complete, and richer in sensations and emotions.

If you want to visit the Museo Omero …

You should come to Ancona, in the Le Marche Region. The local airport is Falconara, which has direct flights from/to Munich, Paris Orly and London Stanstead. The closest international airports are Bologna (2 hours' drive) and Roma (3 hours' drive). Ancona also has direct train connections from Milan and Rome.

From Ancona, you have plenty of options to explore Le Marche, a region with an impressive diffuse cultural heritage. Just a few numbers: 100 historic theatres, 315 libraries, 400 museums and collections, and over 1,000 monuments, including abbeys, romanesque churches and sanctuaries, fortresses, and castles. There are 34 archaeological sites, two ancient Roman roads, and 27 of Italy's most beautiful historical villages.

If you need help for your trip to Italy

We are only a click away from helping you with itineraries, suggestions, ideas, etc.

Italy boasts numerous historic homes, testaments to captivating stories and renowned artists. Particularly in bustling tourist hotspots like Milan, Rome, or Florence, house museums offer a refuge from the throngs of visitors queuing for popular attractions. They provide an intimate glimpse into the past, away from the usual tourist crowds.

One is Mario Praz's house museum, a charming collection of the renowned Italian savant’s personal belongings and art pieces, located a few steps from Piazza Navona in Rome, at Via Zanardelli, 1, in the Palazzo Primoli.

Mario Praz was a scholar of many talents: an essayist, an accurate translator, a journalist, an art critic, a collector, and the most important Italian Anglicist of the 20th century. His works, which have long been a mainstay in the academic world in the field of Anglo-Saxon literature, are written in a rich and remarkable language. He has taught in Rome and England, where his comparative literature and literary criticism studies are still appreciated.

Mario Praz's house museum is a treasure trove of history. The 1,200 objects, predominantly from the Napoleonic period, are not just items but a living testament to a bygone era. They are arranged according to Praz's wishes as detailed in a 76-page vademecum, a document that not only explains the arrangement of the objects but also their historical significance and cultural references.

Stepping into this house museum is like stepping into a series of Cabinets of Wonder, each more fascinating than the previous one. The dining room, for instance, is a veritable ode to flight, with every object and piece of furniture a testament to this theme. The chandelier, resembling a hot air balloon, and the paintings, evoking the early days of hot air balloon experimentation, all come together to create a vivid and immersive experience rich with historical significance.

Without mentioning his study, which is full of literary and historical references, where Mario Praz researched and wrote his works.

It could be a twist of fate that the house museum of this influential Anglicist, one of Europe's most significant intellectuals in the 20th century, does not yet have an English-speaking guide. However, with their detailed printed English explanation and a wealth of empathy, the museum staff go above and beyond to ensure that even those who do not know Italian can understand and feel well-informed about their visit, enjoying a unique cultural experience.

I invite you, therefore, to include a few house museums in your itinerary the next time you are in Italy. These unique cultural institutions, scattered throughout Italy, offer a more in-depth understanding of the local culture and history, providing stories about the places you visit that are often missing in all-inclusive travel plans.

The less obvious choices, such as the lesser-known house museums or the small towns off the tourist trail, are the ones that bring the most surprises and knowledge of places.

And if you need help or suggestions for your next trip to Italy, you can reach me at hello@piccolocentro.com

Ciao, until next time!

Social media platforms and popular travel blogs often overlook the charm of a small hilltop town like Macerata. Situated in the lesser-known region of Le Marche, Macerata may not attract the attention of tour operators or travel agencies, who prefer more well-known and easily marketable destinations. Consequently, it is often considered “uncool” for traditional tourism trade.

However, for travelers seeking more authentic and less crowded destinations, Macerata would be an ideal choice. Nestled amidst abundant greenery, Macerata is a charming old town conveniently positioned near the Apennines mountains and a quick 20-minute drive away from the coast. Reaching there may take some extra effort, as the airport is not nearby and the train connections are slower than high-speed trains. Yet, the traveler’s efforts to reach Macerata are compensated by the breathtaking scenery along the way.

Once the entire journey is done, what is in store for the visitor? I asked Tünde Szécsi, a Florida Gulf Coast University professor, who happened to arrive in Macerata last year for a conference. This year, Tünde has decided to return to Macerata as a visiting professor. She didn’t make this decision solely for academic purposes, but also to recapture the genuine sense of well-being and authentic atmosphere she experienced on her initial trip to Macerata. Tünde developed a feeling that led her to fall in love with this captivating city.

She was amazed by the residents and their ability to appreciate the presence of others, dedicating time to connect. Tünde liked living on a small, intimate level characterized by harmonious warmth. Maybe in Macerata, Tünde suggests there might not be the most renowned tourist attractions, but museums or art galleries do not solely define a tourist spot. It also encompasses interactions and a pleasant atmosphere where visitors like yourself are embraced and made to feel welcome.

Despite its initial impression as a calm and lesser-known city compared to other famous Italian destinations, Macerata should be noticed for its rich cultural offerings and entertainment options. Notably, it is home to one of the oldest universities in the world, which was established in 1290. Additionally, Macerata provides English-language degree programs in tourism, showcasing its commitment to international education.

When summer arrives, Macerata comes alive with a vibrant opera season at the Sferisterio. This extraordinary open-air theater, situated close to the historic center, is a stunning example of Neoclassical design. Originally constructed in the 19th century for the popular game of armband ball, it has since evolved into a venue for concerts and opera performances. Its exceptional acoustics makes it a perfect choice for events that cater to both adults and families with children.

The museums in Macerata might not enjoy the same level of fame and wealth as those in Rome and Florence. Nevertheless, they are important because they represent local traditions. The Ecomuseum of Villa Ficana is a remarkable example of the region’s history and traditions. This 19th-century hamlet consists entirely of earthen houses and offers immersive tours and entertaining activities that provide insights into local traditions. Moreover, the Roman city of Helvia Recina is preserved in an archaeological complex near Macerata. The remnants offer concrete evidence of the area’s ancient settlement across different periods.

It may come as a surprise, but Macerata is the location of the Palazzo Ricci, an impressive museum dedicated to modern art. With a primary focus on futurism, the collection owned by a local bank includes 350 works. In Italy, Futurism was a major art and social movement that embraced technology and modernization while rejecting traditional styles. Macerata is closely linked to the futurism movement, being the birthplace of several prominent figures associated with this movement that emerged in the early 20th century. The collection features renowned painters like Licini, Bartolini, Pannaggi, and Tozzi, alongside artists like Balla, Guttuso, and Morandi. Palazzo Ricci resembles a mini Guggenheim, displaying a wide range of modern artworks.

In Macerata, not only do people enjoy a good quality of life, but they also indulge in exceptional culinary delights.

Known for its signature dish, vincisgrassi, this city boasts a rich gastronomic heritage. Vincisgrassi is a mouthwatering seven-layer baked pasta dish that combines meats from different barnyard animals, such as duck, chicken, rabbit, and pork, including bones and offal. What makes this dish special is the inclusion of vino cotto, a sweet wine added to the pasta dough, cooked with chicken and duck livers, and mixed with the sauce at the final stage. The meat sauce generously coats the bottom four layers, while the top layer is reserved for a fragrant béchamel sauce infused with nutmeg. Baking this culinary masterpiece in the oven turns it into a heavenly and indulgent delight.

Exceptional wine can always be found where delicious food is served, especially in off-the-beaten-path destinations like Macerata, where the wine industry holds delightful surprises even for connoisseurs. Skip the supermarket and consider visiting a small local producer who oversees the entire supply chain and produces wines that beautifully reflect their territory, similar to those who belong to the Consorzio dei Vignaioli delle Marche, an association of small wine producers of Le Marche region. In Macerata, the grape variety that is grown locally is called Ribona.

It is undeniable that despite its unassuming charm, Macerata has so much to offer.

If you want to reach Macerata

You have the following options:

• the closest International airport is Rome (3 hours drive)

• local Falconara airport (1-hour drive) is connected daily with the international hub of Munich, Germany

• by car, you can easily reach Macerata with expressway and highway

• by train

  and if you need …

• bespoke experiences 

• wine and gourmet tours for enthusiasts and professional

• travel itineraries except for air flights

• enrichment calls to give you suggestions and tips for your trip to Italy or review your itinerary if you are a self-planner

• event planning and location scouting for corporate and celebratory events 

please write to: hello@piccolocentro.com

Sometimes, all it takes is a short stroll outside the bustling center of Florence to escape the crowds, long lines, and well-known attractions that have been extensively documented on social media and tourist guides. With just a bit of time, you can discover vibrant destinations and experiences that embody sustainable and regenerative tourism. One shining example is the Manifattura Tabacchi (Tobacco Factory), a former cigar and cigarette factory near the center of Florence. This incredible place tells stories of resilience and bravery.

Today, the factory is many things: a famous fashion design school, a cultural center, the home of start-ups and offices, restaurants, a showcase for design and craft products, and a venue for events and soon housing.

Before the transformation, Manifattura Tabacchi was a crucial manufacturing center. It gave women a rare chance to be financially independent through work outside the home.

The female cigar makers, also known as "Tabacchine," were given job opportunities due to their manual skills, patience, and willingness to work for lower wages than their male counterparts. Despite working in unhealthy environments and enduring long hours, women at the Tobacco Factory continued to fight for their rights by engaging in union and political struggles. 

For instance, in 1944, they staged a major strike to demand an end to the war and more food for their children, opposing the fascist dictatorship. This act of courage could have led to them losing everything.

Even though the Manifattura Tabacchi has lost its proletarian character and raised fears of gentrification in the surrounding working-class neighborhood, the spirit of the Tabacchine can still be sensed through an architectural intervention that respects the original spaces and preserves the work tools. Resident guest artists often reuse these tools, which are stored in a dedicated area called Caveau.

In this way, the Manifattura enables us to pass on the memory of women, who often receive little attention in history books and cultural events due to their social and cultural background.

No matter how much the use has changed from factory to creative hub, the working-class heart of the Manifattura Tabacchi still beats strong. Next time you go to Florence, listen to it too.

Useful information

To get to Manifattura Tabacchi from Florence's train station, take the streetcar T2 going towards the Airport, and get off at San Donato stop. Then it's just a 5-minute walk to the Manifattura.

If you're coming from Peretola Airport, just grab a cab, and you'll be there in 15 minutes.

Get in touch if you want to include a visit to the Manifattura Tabacchi in a carefully curated itinerary full of off-the-beaten-path places and experiences that resonate. Send me a message at this link

Even the most inattentive visitor can't miss the grand white basilica of Loreto, surrounded by lush olive groves. It commands attention as it perches on a hilltop, gazing out over the sea. Its regal presence captivates all who journey along the Adriatic coastline, specifically in the southern part of Ancona, nestled within Le Marche region in central Italy.

While the basilica was constructed by renowned Italian architects like Bramante, Sansovino, and Vanvitelli, who contributed to its design during the Renaissance and beyond, as well as esteemed painters such as Signorelli and Pomarancio, its allure does not solely rest on its architectural beauty. Instead, it lies in something far more unassuming at first sight - three stone walls stored inside the basilica. It is believed that they are part of the house where the Virgin Mary grew up and was visited by the Archangel Gabriel, hence the name of Holy House.

How the Virgin Mary's home from Nazareth got here remains an enigma. According to popular belief, angels brought it, by flying, to Loreto in the late 13th century to protect it from Islamic rule in Palestine. However, historians argue that the house was dismantled, sent to Italy, and reconstructed in Loreto. While the latter theory seems more likely, scientific analyses of the materials used in the walls suggest that the house was not rebuilt on-site. The enigma remains.

While this post may not provide the definitive answer to the mystery of the origin of the Holy House, it does offer a glimpse into Loreto and the captivating legend surrounding it. The intention is to entice readers and future visitors to explore a lesser-known part of Italy, free from the crowds of mass tourism, where genuine hospitality emanates from the heart.

Loreto holds a special allure for Catholics, religious individuals, and anyone seeking a connection with a place steeped in beauty and spirituality. Regardless of our religious beliefs, a visit to the Holy House is an opportunity for introspection and self-discovery. Even skeptics cannot help but be moved by the experience.

Furthermore, Loreto serves as an excellent base for exploring the untouched region of Le Marche, which remains unspoiled by mass tourism. Near Loreto lies one of Italy's most breathtaking beaches, the Riviera del Conero, making it an ideal starting point for beach lovers.

Additionally, Loreto offers countless opportunities for outdoor activities such as biking, horseback riding, and rejuvenating yoga sessions amidst nature. Moreover, this charming town serves as a gateway to renowned art cities like Ascoli Piceno. Notably, Loreto marks the beginning of the Via Lauretana, a scenic route that connects Loreto to Cortona in Tuscany. This route can be explored on foot or by car, and I will delve into details in a forthcoming post.

The olive groves surrounding the Basilica serve as the initial indication of Loreto's wine and food vocation. This vocation extends to the clergy, who have taken care of the land entrusted to the Basilica for centuries. Wines, cheeses, and oils are then grown and marketed in Loreto in spaces inside the Basilica. Additionally, this small town showcases its food and wine vocation through various local agricultural productions and the presence of renowned restaurants (also Michelin-starred).

How do you reach the Holy House in Loreto?

Loreto is well-connected by air (Falconara airport is 20 minutes away from connections to some European airports), while the international airport of Bologna is 2 1/2 hours away. Loreto is also easily accessible by train and highway (A14).

If you would like to know more, please write to us: hello@piccolocentro.com

We organize itineraries and experiences in the area. We cooperate with the best luxury villas and hotels in Le Marche region.

I have no Christmas recipes to share, no suggestions on where to spend Christmas in Italy, but only a century-old poem. It is sad, perhaps, since it is about a soldier returning from the war front just for Christmas, but it describes well the weariness at times of humanity and how little things can be cause for joy.

Have plenty of little things!

Buon Natale to everyone.

Christmas

I don’t want / to dive / into a tangle / of streets

I have so much / weariness / on my shoulders

Leave me / like a / thing / placed / in a / corner / and forgotten

Here / is nothing else / than the good warmth

I’ll stay / with the four / somersaults / of smoke / from the hearth.

Poem by Giuseppe Ungaretti - freely translated by Ilaria Ippoliti - original version below

Natale

Non ho voglia di tuffarmi in un gomitolo di strade
Ho tanta stanchezza sulle spalle

Lasciatemi così come
come una cosa posata in un angolo
e dimenticata

Qui non si sente altro che il caldo buono

Sto con le quattro capriole di fumo del focolare

Giuseppe Ungaretti, 1916

The house had already changed its appearance two weeks earlier. Jars, trinkets, and cups were disappearing from the kitchen shelves. The large table that greeted us all for meals when we visited our grandparents remained without chairs and was covered with a wooden board sprinkled with flour.

No one was allowed in. Grandma would frown and scold us if we made excuses to go in. We would eat in a small room, one on top of the other, to not disturb the camp set up in the kitchen.

The aunts would arrive, always late, according to my grandmother, who, as an inflexible factory boss, would truncate any greetings or pleasantries and incite them to get right to work. Each in her place with my grandmother dictating the pace, the breaks from work (few), and the chatter (even less).

The aunts, Annetta and Olivia, prepared the filling and opened the eggs while Grandma rolled out the pastry. There was no time to waste; Christmas was just around the corner, and there were many Cappelletti (stuffed egg pasta similar to Tortellini) to be made for our family and that of the aunts, as well as for acquaintances to ingratiate themselves with. Generosity was a character trait of my grandmother, who did not disdain the appreciation that came from showing it.

The atmosphere was hectic; five days before Christmas, the first trays began to leave, and the first thank-you phone calls began to arrive. While my grandmother on the phone was receiving compliments and thanks, I hurried to the kitchen, and behind the backs of the aunts intent on cooking, I ate raw Cappelletti all in one go.

They were so good with their thick dough and raw, savory filling. At times, they would linger in my throat, as they weren't cooked enough to be soft and slippery. However, their flavor was unmatched, perhaps due to the fact that they were secretly enjoyed, evading their grandmother's strict supervision.

Unfortunately my grandmother would always notice that some were missing, and start shouting at everyone, especially my mother, who was accused of not raising me well.

As the days passed, the pace of work and nervousness increased.

Then, less skilled ones were recruited, including my mother, who was deemed too urban and modern to make pasta. But with time on the wane, she eventually became accepted into the team. She was assigned to seal the cappelletti, which she diligently accomplished with her head down and incredible swiftness.

Sometimes, my Grandma called me upon. This call made me feel grown up and important.

My small hands as a child were very good at sealing Cappelletti, and this made up for my voracious forays into the kitchen when I ate them raw.

That big, warm kitchen where the family would gather to eat, play bingo, and watch television became a hellish forge, a ruthless production unit. I still remember that huge board of Cappelletti, which, once completed, was dismantled to form trays to be wrapped and distributed.

And in a rush off to prepare another one to be filled.

I still hear my grandfather's voice complaining to my grandmother, "But is there any need to make all these Cappelletti? We cannot endure this chaos anymore." My grandmother would tell him that it was always done this way, that "people" wait all year for his cappelletti.

Usually, approaching Christmas Eve, the uproar would break out; the aunts' workforce was at risk of mutiny due to fatigue and the thought of all the preparations still to be made in their house for Christmas. Grandpa sulked; the children did not understand this frenzy and fretted accordingly. Grandma was offended because she felt surrounded by ingrates who did not appreciate her efforts.

When we finally savored the Cappelletti on Christmas Day, everybody was wondering in silence, but is that all there was to it?

They were good, yes, but with all that turmoil we had experienced in the days before Christmas, they had taken on the flavor of a battlefield.

And for me, they tasted not better than the raw ones I ate on the sly.