Never before had I seen so many doorbells as I searched for the name shared in advance by Angie Niebles Moss, the mastermind behind the Piccola Cucina pasta-making experience in Florence. Buzzed inside the sprawling building, a centuries-old courtyard, quintessential Florence lift and a concealed corridor led to a handsome Haussmann-style apartment. Even before the pasta making began, I was already mesmerised by the period grandeur.
Angie, Colombian by birth and Florentine by adoption, puts our small group of four acquaintances immediately at ease, pouring a generous glass of bubbles and encouraging us to graze on the exquisite nibbles enticingly set out on a table tucked under a window overlooking Florence’s botanical gardens. Freshly fried truffle arancini, anchovy butter toasts and feta with blackberries are the antipasti du jour, elevated culinary treats that match the gilded frescoed ceilings, original parquet flooring and site-specific, super-tall shelving units curated with the tenant’s favourite things. Tentative introductions and small talk gradually turn into giggles as Angie hands us weighty aprons embroidered in pink with the Piccola Cucina logo. Pretty pink pasta machines, the staff’s pink tops and Venetian-style pink goblets complete the colour accents. Called over to the stainless steel counter topped with wooden boards and gold table lamps, we start to bind together Italy’s famous “00” flour, semolina and eggs. Mine’s an unmitigated disaster (too much chatting, not enough concentration: all my own doing!), but Angie’s patience is boundless as she leads me back on track with corrective actions. Safely set aside in plastic wrap and our name’s scribed with a Sharpie, the fresh egg pasta dough is left to rest. Upcoming vacations and the challenges of living in Florence are among our conversational points as we take a short break before the music is cranked up and we return to the kitchen island, bopping to 90s’ pop.
Angie makes the next stage sound so simple. “Open the plastic wrap, roll out the dough with an itty bitty rolling pin—look how cute it is—and then roll it through the pasta machine.” I prepare to pass the golden sheet through the gleaming appliance, feeling confident—only to have the handle fall off! Clearly, I’m no domestic goddess, although my pasta-making pals don’t appear to share my culinary shortcomings. (Well, maybe Sophia just a little!) Slowly but surely, Angie guides me through the process, turning the dial, threading the dough before tagliolini eventually slide successfully through my hands onto the worktop. That’s not all. Organic rose petals are teased into egg-yellow sheets, their pigments naturally smudging the pasta. We roll and fill with pumpkin puree before folding and cutting them into flower-shaped ravioli.
Sinking into the design-driven couch, it only seems right that we take a breather after the exertion involved with kneading and rolling, although we do feel guilty about leaving Angie and her team to cook dinner in the tiny corner kitchen. An almond broth scents and sauces the tagliolini we made earlier before we move onto the pumpkin ravioli served simply with sage butter. Alongside the decadent chocolate ganache cake with raspberries, a surprise awaits as a talented local singer-songwriter treats us to a few tunes in between our constant chatter and laughter about an afternoon well spent.
Still laughing at our shortcomings and having bonded as a group, we hug outside on the elegant Florentine street with a view of the Duomo in the distance. Piccola Cucina might be small in size, but it’s certainly big in heartwarming moments.
