Recipe for success Santa montefiore learns the art of italian home cooking
For rookie chef santa montefiore, learning the art of italian home cooking was the perfect antidote to her busy life
It’s a hot afternoon under the italian sun. my five friends and i sit drinking limoncello on a terrace festooned with grapes, high up in the hills with a spectacular view of the amalfi
Coast. We have just feasted on an italian banquet of such deliciousness, cooked by the fabulous and feisty mamma agata, who has spent the day sharing her culinary secrets, and are sleepy and a little tipsy. it is heaven. Who would have thought that i – who will do anything to avoid cooking a meal – would be here at mamma agata’s famed cookery school in Ravello?
When i told my book club of five girlfriends that i was going to base my next novel in italy, Wendy – possibly the most spirited of the group – decided i needed help with the research, and that a group trip to Ravello would be just the thing to inspire me. she suggested mamma agata’s Cookery school, having done the course herself a few years before. “you won’t find anything like it anywhere,” she said determinedly. “it’s a magical experience you will never forget.” Cooking is not one of my usPs. However, saying no to Wendy was not an option!
There was also another reason i did not decline. i’m a 48-year-old mother of two, and my life has been punctuated by school holidays and writing deadlines for the past 19 years. i realise now, as i get older, that i need to add variety to my life to stop it becoming Groundhog Day stagnant. i need to stimulate my senses. i need new places, new languages, new sounds and smells to fuel my imagination. Ravello would certainly do that.
Ravishing Ravello
The other girls needed no persuading to spend four days in the sunshine eating pasta, and so, on a drizzly grey English day at the beginning of september, we set off for italy’s resplendent amalfi Coast. We had booked into a small pensione on the waterfront below Ravello, which is a short drive up narrow winding lanes into the hills, and it was there that we sat, on a terrace laced with honeysuckle and vines, and drank our first Prosecco. The sea glittered before us under an enormous yellow sun and luigi, the handsome italian proprietor, asked us questions in broken English
about the nature of our trip. When we told him we were going to spend the day at mamma agata’s, we did not need to elaborate. His face warmed, his eyes misted and his smile was one of knowing life’s most treasured secret. We knew we were in for a treat.
Ravello is an ancient town founded in the 5th century on the crest of a magnificent hill. it boasts a 13th-century church, grand palazzi once belonging to wealthy mercantile families and stunning gardens. but i would say that mamma agata’s is the jewel in its crown. Hers is a large house that clings to the hillside with a spectacular 180-degree view of the amalfi Coast.
The six of us arrived the following morning and were greeted by mamma agata’s daughter, Chiara. Chiara is sturdy with short black hair, twinkling eyes brimming with humour and affection, and a vivacious personality. she showed us to the kitchen and there stood the famous mamma agata. she did not say a word, she just stood, diminutive and stout like a little teapot, with a shy smile on her sweet face, exuding the charisma of a woman who has been queen of her domain for decades.
Chiara told us that her mother does not speak English. “but one has to be careful,” she said, a mischievous glint in her eye. “because there are words she does understand. For example, if i say ‘mic-ro-wave’…” at that point mamma agata’s gentle face transformed into a furious scowl and she slapped the middle of her arm with one hand and lifted the other in a tight fist, gesticulating, as only the italians can, to silently communicate an unspeakably rude word. Of course we all laughed, the ice was broken between the students, and mamma agata’s mouth twitched at the corners to suggest that this was a well-practised joke that always had the desired effect.
We observed and took notes while mamma agata cooked and Chiara explained what she was doing. it was fascinating to watch an old italian woman who has cooked all her life throw the most delicious dishes together with mesmerising ease.
The measuring of ingredients is by feel alone and there are no recipes, just instinct. i knew instantly that this mother-daughter combination would make an excellent novel, and started scribbling.
Showing off my new skills
i have never been a good cook. but with mamma agata i learned to make a proper bolognese sauce, a delicious Napoli sauce and a truly delectable lemon cake. but i think mamma agata's greatest gift is enthusiasm, and that’s not something you can learn from a cookery book.
i now love cooking these dishes not only because i’m confident i can pull them off, but also because i think of Chiara and mamma agata whenever i do so, and they make me feel warm inside. sometimes life throws up something extraordinary – and a moment’s experience can infuse the rest of your life with a special magic. ✢ The Temptation of Gracie by Santa Montefiore (Simon & Schuster) is out now; to find out more about Mamma Agata’s Cooking School, visit mammaagata.com