A Year in a Tuscan Cooking School: December
Cardoons, panforte, and the taste of a Tuscan Christmas
I can’t believe a year has passed since we launched the idea of a new column for this newsletter, A Year in a Tuscan Cooking School. Month after month, I opened the doors of my cooking school to share a more intimate glimpse into daily life in Tuscany: what we cook, what we buy at the market, what we grow and forage for in the wild, the people we meet, the seasonal flavours.
It has been a slow journey, like leafing through the pages of a favourite cookbook. And now, you can actually read it from start to finish, following the seasons, the monthly inspiration, and a natural rhythm in the kitchen.
You can find all the past installments here: A Year in a Tuscan Cooking School.
DECEMBER
December is a quiet month. It is its silence I crave the most after a long, busy year.
It’s the silence of my daily walk with Teo under the towering oak trees, their stark architecture of tangled branches creating a natural cathedral with a floor of fallen leaves.
It’s the quiet of the cold light of a foggy morning spent writing at the living room table, the wood-burning stove warming the room with its flickering flames, and a single candle burning with a hushed crackle.
It’s the silence of a winter kitchen, while I bake a double dose of cavallucci for the holidays, their spiced scent wafting through the house like a returning Christmas memory.
It’s the relaxed atmosphere at the market, where in the early hours there’s no queue at all, and I can take all the time I want to choose my radicchio and the cardoons to be baked under a shower of breadcrumbs.
And it’s this blessed silence now, curled up on the sofa in my forest green pajamas, writing with pen and paper after dinner, while Tommaso reads a bedtime story to Livia and I’m easily distracted by the twinkling lights of our Christmas tree.









Christmas time in Tuscany
When Christmas approaches, I find myself spending more time in Siena, a town that truly blooms during the festive season, its skyline at night, with the Duomo standing tall, like a modern nativity scene. We took a quick trip to Siena on a Saturday afternoon to stroll through the stands of the Saint Lucy’s Fair, a paradise for children and sweet-toothed grown-ups alike.
You mainly come here for the sweet treats: bomboloni, brigidini (super thin and crisp aniseed tuiles), candied and dried fruit, croccante (nuts covered in caramel and cut into crisp slabs), and addormentasuocera—possibly my favourite treat—pralined almonds whose name means they’re so good they “put your mother-in-law to sleep.”
It’s also the perfect opportunity to buy your campanina of the year, a small bell decorated with the colours of your contrada, whose design changes every year.
I took the chance to visit Drogheria Manganelli, my favourite grocer’s shop in town, to buy candied citron peels (I ran out when I made panforte during our recent live cook-along), and their secret spice mixes for dark panforte and cavallucci.
So, I was officially ready for this year’s Christmas baking!
After making my annual batches of panforte and cavallucci, I also experimented with a chocolate and coffee panforte with walnuts and dried figs. It turned out to be outstanding—especially served with a little espresso at the end of a meal—and it comes together in no time. The recipe is behind the paywall as a last-minute Christmas gift.
December cooking classes
In December, we hosted just one market-to-table cooking class—a quiet morning spent first at the market buying seasonal vegetables, and then cooking in the studio, with the wood-burning stove warming the atmosphere. Among other things, we baked an apple olive oil cake, the recipe we make most often throughout the year.
It was the perfect way to close a year in which we welcomed nearly 500 people from 24 countries.
We may not travel much in this phase of our lives (and God knows how much I would love to), but we certainly get to know the world a bit better through the tales and experiences of the people we host.
I’m amazed by these numbers, and genuinely grateful to all the students who came to visit us and chose our classes as part of their holidays in Tuscany. When you tell us that you chose our classes because of the rave reviews, or because a friend who spent a day with us recommended the experience, or—my absolute favourite—because you’ve been reading our blog and newsletter for years, you show us that we’re on the right path. That caring for other people, welcoming them into our home like old-time friends, and intentionally choosing quality over quantity is the key to a better life and to a thriving business. Grazie!
Now it’s time to develop new recipes to add to our seasonal menus, restock the pantry and the little shop with local products, refresh the studio, and rest. Because spring will be here in no time. And with the first swallows, our students will return.
In April, our new cookbook will finally be out, so expect more insights and behind-the-scenes stories, along with even more vegetable-forward cooking classes and recipes. (And yes, you can already preorder it from here).
In the meantime, you can browse the experiences we offer here: along with our monthly three-day masterclasses, you can also opt for our one-day Market-to-Table Cooking Class on Wednesdays, or our Vegetable-Forward Cooking Class on Thursdays. As always, we recommend staying in our hometown, Colle Val d’Elsa, or at an agriturismo in the surrounding countryside. It’s much quieter than the more touristy spots, has an amazing food scene (I shared our foodie guide here), and is still close enough for day trips to Siena, Florence, Volterra, Val d’Orcia, or even the seaside.
We’ll resume our experiences in March with something I’ve been looking forward to for months: our exclusive four-day masterclass with two dear friends and exceptional teachers: Enrica Monzani from A Small Kitchen in Genoa, and Flavia Giordano from SpaghettiABC.
This very special masterclass will take place from Tuesday 3rd to Friday 6th March. Together with Enrica and Flavia, we’ll guide you through a unique experience that blends our regional cultures – Tuscany, Liguria and Puglia – our favourite cooking techniques, and the seasonal recipes we love most.
December’s favourites from the market
Cardoons
If I had to choose one vegetable to represent December in Tuscany, it would be cardoons, a vegetable that might not win any beauty contests, but more than makes up for it with its flavour. Sturdy, silver-green stalks reminiscent of celery in shape, often as tall as your arm, cardoons are cousins of the artichoke, and they carry a similar earthy bitterness that softens beautifully when cooked.
Cardoons are known as cardi, but be on the lookout for cardi gobbi, hunched cardoons. You can tame the wild nature of cardoons through a process known as imbianchimento, or blanching. In August, the cardoon plants are wrapped in paper and bent, then covered with soil or straw to keep the stalks away from sunlight. This forces the cardoons to grow in the dark, turning the stalks pale, tender, and less bitter. It’s an old technique, rooted in farming traditions that valued patience and seasonality. In some countryside gardens, you’ll still see the cardoons lying on their sides, gently curved and partially buried, waiting for the frost to sweeten them. Come December, cardi gobbi are ready to become the protagonists of the Christmas table.
At the market, I spotted the first cardi gobbi in the second week of December. My farmer friend was beaming with pride, telling me his gobbi were renowned all over the province for their sweetness. He was so right.
Cardoons require time and patience, not only when you grow them, but also when you plan to cook them. First, you must remove any leaves, then peel the stalks downward to remove the tough strings. Afterwards, you need to plunge the cardoons into a bowl of lemon water to prevent them from darkening.
Once cleaned, cardoons are traditionally cooked three times for Christmas, a real labour of love. You boil them, drain them, coat them in flour, fry them, and eventually re-cook them for the third time in the punchy tomato sauce of a stewed capon, creating a Christmas centrepiece: my aunt Teresa’s specialty, cappone coi gobbi.
I love using them to make a parmigiana, layering the fried cardoons with tomato sauce and grated Parmigiano Reggiano, just like in a more traditional eggplant parmigiana. But today, I’m sharing an easier, quicker gratin cardoon—one where you cook them just twice and need only some breadcrumbs, hazelnuts, and grated Parmigiano. You find it behind the paywall at the bottom of this newsletter.
Now it’s your turn. What’s been simmering on your stove this December? Hit reply and share your favourite recipe, ingredient, or story from your kitchen – I read every message, and I love hearing what you’ve been cooking.
As a little treat, we’ve extended our special 25% Christmas discount until December 26th. Come join us—there’s so much to look forward to in the new year!
Ten recipes for December, plus two
A collection of recipes with mixed origins: the core is Tuscan, but with accents from Salento and Basilicata, just like our family.
Alongside ten archive recipes (some from the blog, others from the paywalled archive of this newsletter), you’ll also find two exclusive seasonal dishes I created just for you to celebrate this year of cooking together: a cardoon gratin—simple, satisfying, and deeply seasonal—and a chocolate and espresso panforte with figs and walnuts, perfect as a last-minute Christmas gift (or the best coffee treat to welcome the new year).
Pittule salentine. That of pittule is a very soft dough, actually more similar to a leavened batter, enriched with the most Mediterranean ingredients you can imagine: pitted olives, capers, diced peeled tomatoes, and fillets of anchovies. The dough is dropped in the hot oil by the spoonful: it immediately puffs up into a round, pillowy ball of dough. Fry it until slightly golden, then transfer to a large bowl lined with kitchen paper and enjoy immediately.
Sagn’ a lu fuorn. My family Southern lasagna. This superbly rich Southern pasta bake features layers of eggless semolina pasta sheets, mozzarella, scamorza, hard-boiled eggs, grated Pecorino, and a spicy lucanica sausage. The most striking characteristic, though, is the ingredient that binds everything together: a punchy Neapolitan style ragù dotted with tiny, spongy meatballs, the size of a hazelnut.
Pasta with lentils. It belongs to those filling one-pot dishes that traditionally pair pasta and pulses, made with simple, pantry ingredients that, when put together, give more than the sum of their parts. Think about pasta e ceci, or pasta e fagioli. Well, pasta e lenticchie is even more simple. Boil the lentils with a stalk of celery and bay leaves – their spiced smell is a sign they are cooked through – then tip them with their cooking water in olive oil and garlic, add pasta, done. Straightforward, filling, delicious.
Spinach flan. My ghost of Christmas past would bring a Tom and Jerry sweatsuit, a big yellow bag which contained the gifts of the whole family, a baked fillet of salmon and a spinach flan. If I had to identify in every Christmas past, flipping through my memories album, an element that is always present, that tastes of home and that is repeated every 25th December, I would choose the spinach flan.
Cardoons cooked with eggs. In this recipe cardoons are first boiled, then coated with flour and fried until golden. Finish them adding a beaten egg, and stir until it coats the cardoons.
Cardoon flan. Yet another flan, but with the hyper seasonal cardoons.
Capon braised in tomato sauce with cardoons. The centerpiece of our Christmas, something deeply rooted in the peasant tradition.
Panforte. The Sienese fruit and nut Christmas cake, spiced and dense, something that cannot be missed on our festive table.
Ricciarelli. A cross between a small pastry and an almond cookie, ricciarelli feature a dusting of powdered sugar, with a soft inside that melts in your mouth and a striking aroma of bitter almonds.
Cavallucci. Among Siena’s most traditional Christmas cookies, cavallucci are not elegant or photogenic, lacking the bright colours, icing, and sparkling sugar we expect from a Christmas cookie. They’re round and rustic, lightly flattened on the ends, floury and a bit lumpy. And yet, with that first bite full of warm spices, rich nuttiness, and sweet candied fruit, you’ll forget all about the presentation.
Cardoon Gratin
By stripping the recipe down to its essential ingredients, we created a dish we couldn’t stop eating. I’ve made it often since, because it’s not as time-consuming as other cardoon recipes, but just as delicious.
Chocolate and coffee panforte with walnuts and dried figs
I had made a walnut and dried fig panforte before—a more accessible and less expensive version of the classic panforte. But during our recent live cook-along, while chatting about this very recipe, the idea struck: what if I added chocolate to the dough? And maybe even a shot of espresso?
The result was outstanding—especially served with a little espresso at the end of a meal—and it comes together in no time.
Tommaso and I wish you all a joyful, peaceful Christmas. May you cook only what you feel like—whether it’s a full feast or just a bag of microwave popcorn—eat what you love with pleasure and without judgment, and spend time with the people you cherish.








Baccala salad. Escarole Pie. Christmas will be stuffed shells.
Buon Natale, Giulia!