For many, homemade pasta is a special occasion dish, reserved for Sundays or holidays. But for Nonna Giulia, born Lina, growing up in the Cremona countryside of Italy in 1938, it was a daily ritual. We sat down with her to uncover the simple, yet profound, secrets behind her family’s everyday tagliatelle.
A Whiff of Childhood Memories
Me: Mom, you were born in 1938 in the countryside near Cremona before moving to Milan. If you close your eyes, what do you remember most from your childhood?
Nonna Giulia: I don’t see an image immediately; I smell the scent of fresh eggs and feel the flour between my hands. It’s 6 AM, and I see myself with my mother, aunts, and cousins, chatting and kneading tagliatelle dough.
Me: Even on Sundays, you woke up so early?
Nonna Giulia: Sundays? What Sundays! We made tagliatelle every day! On Sundays, we made cannelloni, which required béchamel sauce – a rare treat back then. It was a huge celebration!
Me: So, you ate fresh, homemade tagliatelle every day?
Nonna Giulia: Every single day! Today, it’s a special occasion dish, but in the past, it was our staple.
The Practicality of Pasta Perfection
Me: Why always tagliatelle?
Nonna Giulia: We worked in the fields daily and needed very substantial food that was also inexpensive. To make tagliatelle, you only need eggs, flour, sometimes water, and a pinch of salt. All ingredients were easily and abundantly found in the countryside. Oh, no… there are two other essential ingredients for making tagliatelle.
Me: What are they, Mom?
Nonna Giulia: A lot of experience and a lot of work! It takes at least two or three hours. The dough needs to be worked with great patience and must rest for at least half an hour before being cut.
Beyond the Recipe: The Art of Sensitivity
Me: Why is it so difficult to learn how to make tagliatelle?
Nonna Giulia: It’s not difficult! It takes time. Nowadays, people have little time to spend in the kitchen, but cooking, even if you only prepare simple things, teaches you so much.
Me: Like what?
Nonna Giulia: Patience, organization, sensitivity.
Me: Sensitivity?
Nonna Giulia: Yes, sensitivity. You can only learn that through experience. If you follow recipes to the letter, you can’t be a good cook, especially when making homemade tagliatelle.
Me: What do you mean? To make tagliatelle, you need one egg per person, one hundred grams of flour per person, and a pinch of salt.
Nonna Giulia: No! Those are the starting quantities, but the quality of the flour, the size of the eggs, and especially the humidity in the air all change the consistency of the dough. With the sensitivity in your hands and experience, you have to understand if it’s too dry and needs water, or if it’s too soft and needs more flour.
The Joy of Passing Down a Tradition
Me: One last thing, Mom. When you teach others how to make authentic homemade tagliatelle, how does it make you feel?
Nonna Giulia: So much joy and emotion. It feels like I’m a child again as I knead and chat. The feeling of the dough in my hands, along with the scent of flour and eggs, is one of those emotions that speak to the most primitive part of our brain and have so much to teach us.
If you’re interested in discovering how to make homemade tagliatelle just like Nonna Giulia, don’t miss the chance to book the experience “The Secret of Nonna Giulia’s Longevity”! Click on Nonna Giulia’s longevity and reserve your spot to immerse yourself in the timeless culinary traditions of Italy.