![]() That formula is easier said than dunked but with Marcella at your elbow, the layup is easier. Marcella not only hoisted the spoon (and fork and knife) in honor of Italian cooking but she celebrated its essence, too: Quality ingredients + simple preparation = brilliance. From the mild and pleasant Ligurian coast where “ flowers abound, the olive begins to flourish, and the fragrance of fresh herbs invades nearly every dish” to hot and dry Naples where “the colors of the vegetables are intense and violent, the pastas are so pungent that they often need no topping of cheese,” The Classic Italian Cookbook lauded Italy as a sum of its #dolcevitadelish parts. Marcella redefined Italian cooking as a cuisine of regions rather than a country. I was, however, held culinary hostage in Puglia, my family’s ancestral home. ![]() ![]() Having grown up in an Italian family, I was well aware that Italian cooking rose above the red sauce and canned Parmesan impressions that much of America harbored during my childhood. One day I was helping unpack a shipment of books, and the cookbook revealed itself in all its Italian glory. I spent a lot of time at Alambique in Madrid, the cooking school and cookware store owned by my friend, Clara Maria Amezua de Llamas. ![]() I came upon her first cookbook, The Classic Italian Cookbook, when I was living in Spain, of all places, and interning at an Italian restaurant, of all places. I never had the pleasure-slash-privilege of meeting Marcella Hazan, yet I can attest to her companionship in my kitchen for 25-plus years. ![]()
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