Vittoria's Kitchen

Clean white walls and light gray marble countertops create a calming atmosphere in the little room.  Drawers and cabinets are stocked with cutting boards, cooking sheets, and knives of every shape and size.  Fresh ingredients are piled in the basket on the table, waiting to be put to good use.  Two ovens and two stoves allow multiple dishes to be cooking at once, generating a myriad of wonderful smells on any given afternoon. 

This is Vittoria’s kitchen.  Not her personal kitchen, but the one in which she teaches lessons to young cooking enthusiasts like myself.  When I signed up for her class on Italian vegetarian cooking, I was told it would be a group course.  But upon entering Vittoria’s kitchen for my first lesson, I found myself alone with Vittoria, her sole pupil.  At first this was intimidating, for Vittoria is a typical Florentine woman, proud and slightly aloof.  By the end of my first lesson, however, we were laughing together at my cooking mistakes and swapping stories about our families. 

At the start of each lesson, Vittoria welcomes me into her kitchen with a rapid wave of the hand and a stern, “I wait for you,” even if I am arriving a few minutes early.  She tucks her wild white hair into her chef hat and reties her apron, tightening it as an indication that she is ready to get down to business.  Vittoria has a commanding presence in the kitchen; years of experience are evident in the way she can take control of a knife or a piece of dough and force it to do her will.   And yet, Vittoria’s cooking mantra has nothing to do with coercion.  She repeatedly reminds me to cook “slowly and gently, but with energy.” 

Over the past few weeks, Vittoria and I have made some amazing dishes – gnocchi, risotto, polenta, stuffed tomatoes, and even cannoli.  We make everything completely from scratch.  Vittoria isn’t easy on me, but I must admit that I leave each lesson feeling rather accomplished!  The pear torte we made a few weeks ago might have been the best dish of them all.  I’ll never forget Vittoria squatting down looking with scrutiny at our torte baking in the oven.  She tugs on my apron so that I join her, both of us now eye-level with our fragrant creation.  She turns toward me, smiling, and shakes my hand enthusiastically saying, “Best compliments. Perfetto!”  Might be one of my top ten proudest moments.   

For me, cooking has always been a relaxing pastime.  And with the fast pace of my days here in Florence, I treasure the hours I spend with Vittoria in the kitchen during my weekly cooking lessons.  The peace and quiet of Vittoria’s kitchen gives me a chance to reflect and recharge every Wednesday, thus serving as my reminder to live the way Vittoria cooks: “slowly and gently, but with energy.”  I think I’ve found a new motto, both for cooking and for life.