I remember visiting Florence in 1994. Having just learned how to cook, I was looking for a regional experience, and decided to start in Tuscany, my father’s homeland. I always enjoyed visiting my Grandmother in Tuscany; she cooked delicious things for my brother and I, and everyone simply adored her food.
I was staying with some good friends, and one night they took me to a little place about an hour out of town.We arrived and the room was full of people.We sat in the middle of a long table, and there were other people we didn’t know at each end.A very pleasant young man came up to us and said … “there’s no menu here … but I know you’re going to love the food … because my Mama’s in the kitchen!” … he then brought warm bread and placed a small bowl in front of each of us … he proceeded to come out of the kitchen with the food, all still in enormous pans with a serving spoon in each.We had antipasti, pastas, meat, vegetables, all brought to us straight from the pan! The whole restaurant ate the same food at the same time… when he ran out of one thing, he’d go back into the kitchen and come out with another pan of a different dish, and the joy just wouldn’t stop.
… He was right … we loved the food … it was extraordinarily good and genuine. Obviously, as it was Riccardo’s.