The culture of authentic food anchors Italy’s identity in a globalized world beyond the recipe page. I am adding some color to the Unesco designation with travel-tales: amusing anecdotes that hopefully will not be lost in translation.
Imagine my good fortune to be with one of the world’s most significant, successful chefs on the day the news he’d been hoping for broke: Italian cooking had been awarded special cultural heritage status by the United Nations’ cultural agency Unesco.
In addition to intangible Italian dishes on Unesco’s cultural heritage list, Italian cooking traditions and practices were awarded. Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni reminded the world that Italian cooking is “culture, tradition, work and wealth.”
I was in Miami, at celebrity chef Massimo Bottura’s Torno Subito, which would reopen the next day under the direction of chef Bernardo Palladini. Palladini had cooked all over the world as a disciple of the Emilia-Romagna-based Bottura, including the Middle East and Far East.
“The Unesco designation is awarded to all our country. All our gastronomic. All our excellence. All the people working for the best quality, always. We are very proud,” he said, as we sat in the vibrant, colorful restaurant appropriately located in Miami’s art district, since the dishes served there are visually stimulating.
The Celebration Moves West to the City of Angels
Image by Michael Shiels
I met Italian actress Gioia Libardoni on the set of a vertical soap opera called “Wrong.” We were shooting in Pasadena, outside Los Angeles, in a scene where I portrayed her husband – a lout so awful the script called for her to throw a drink in my face at a charity ball.
Despite the dubious, splashy start, we became friends and when her friend Katia visited from Venice, Libardoni invited me to share an Italian meal she cooked for us at her home in the Hollywood hills. I brought a traditional bottle of Select, a staple of the Venetian Spritz scene before Aperol.
The next dinner invitation Libardoni arranged for me was a surprise and an honor. It came via an email from her friend Alessandra Malanga, Delegate of the Los Angeles Chapter of the Accademia Italiana della Cucina and Vice Delegate Paolo Lorenzini.
They’d organized a dinner to celebrate Italy’s Unesco recognition. The Accademia, founded in 1953, was one of the main supporters of Italy’s candidacy.
I was excited to read further into her email, the intimate dinner would be held at Tra Di Noi, in Malibu, and among the 20 guests would be Her Excellency Raffaella Valentini, Consul General of Italy for Los Angeles, with Deputy Consul Lorenza Errighi and Josafat Rigano, Director of the Italian Chamber of Foreign Commerce.
Then came the biggest, humbling surprise.
“Might you be open to saying a few words (8-10 minutes) at the dinner?” Malanga wrote. “Given your voice and storytelling style, we thought it would be great for you to reflect, if your own way, on the idea of Italian cuisine.”
With humility and enthusiasm, I accepted. I knew the Consul General would surely speak before me formally of how the culture of authentic food anchors Italy’s identity in a globalized world beyond the recipe page. So, I decided to add some color to the Unesco designation with travel-tales: amusing anecdotes that hopefully would not be lost in translation.
Cucina Cuisine
If you make it to Malibu, consider a meal at Tra Di Noi, which has indoor and outdoor seating. If you’re lucky, you will meet a server named Luigi, an Italian who was attentive and fun, and complimented my black suit, Gucci scarf and Prada loafers in between courses.
Said courses included: Prosecco and red and white Italian wines; Pinot Grigio Santa Margherita; Villa Antinori Rosso; Passed pizzettine; Tonarelli Cacio e Pepe; Orecchiette al tartufo nero (served from a cheese wheel); Salmone in crosta di pistacchio con verdure e patate arrosto; Scaloppine al Limone a capperi con pure di patate e verdure; Tiramisu della casa.
Sit In On My Speech
“Buona serra tutti,” I began.
“Grazie a tutti, gentili. Rispetto Console Generale Valentini. Rispetto, Signora Malanga. Grazie mille, ti amo, bella donna Gioia Libardoni. You have the most exclusive Italian restaurant in Los Angeles – your home!”
I then put on a pair of eclectic, white tortoise shell, dark glasses, and proclaimed to the room:
“Tutti i passi che ho fatto nella mia vita mi hanno portato qui ora.” (Every step of my life I have taken has led me to here, now.)
I then explained the mystery of my unusual glasses. They were given to me by Giovanni Fracassi, the proprietor of the famed Ristorante Da Ivo in Venice, Italy, who wears similarly eccentric pairs created in a shop just over the canal from Da Ivo.
“Giovanni told me, handing the glasses to me, ‘These glasses are only to be worn by crazy people!’
Da Ivo is a favorite of celebrity types ranging from George Clooney to the Sultan of Brunei, but I am sure they do not wear the type of glasses Giovanni gave me.
I was dining alone that night, so he made me feel welcomed by also pulling down empty wine bottles with celebrity autographs and dates on them to recount stories of their visits. Giovanni also gave me
a book of photographs of the notables dining at Da Ivo, since there was no room to put celebrity photos on the walls.
The walls were adorned, in certain spots, by the drawings of famous cartoonists or artists. Giovanni had drawn his own cartoon on the eyeglass case he autographed for me, which I showed everyone at the dinner.
Feeling Good and Accoglienti
Giovanni and the longtime server Rachid Farich knew how to keep a solo, bachelor diner company at Da Ivo. They made me feel “accoglienti” in their home ristorante. Not just the food, but the setting, served as an ambassador of Italian cuisine and culture.
On a different dark night in Michigan, I found myself feeling lonely and down. I knew I had to get out of the house to find comfort, if not re-light my soul, so I instinctively drove to Spagnuolos, a small Lansing-area restaurant owned by Italians Vincenzo and Silvana Spagnuolo and operated by their grown children Amy, Sam and Michael.
Sliding into the door, I was enveloped by the aroma, embraced by the warm decorations and colors.
“The kitchen is about to close, but what can we make for you?” Amy asked as I climbed on a barstool.
Very soon after, my stomach was filled with pasta and my heart warmed with wine. Mission accomplished.
Similarly, when I moved to Los Angeles, I took a one-bedroom apartment across from the Four Seasons Hotel on Doheny Drive in Beverly Hills. My first afternoon there, I sought company, and I knew I’d need a “local” bar to frequent for friendship.
Within walking distance was Dan Tana’s, also a favorite with Hollywood actors and actresses. Dan Tana’s is a tiny, old-school, red-sauce, red-checkered-tablecloth type of Italian restaurant, founded by a Croatian, with wicker-wrapped Chianti bottles hanging from the ceiling.
The first time I walked there, I arrived in time for Dan Tana’s daily 5 p.m. opening, but inside the door, I found the 10 barstools already occupied.
“What does that tell you?” the doorman asked me with a knowing grin.
It told me that Dan Tana’s had loyal customers, who were loyal because of providing early entry.
Accoglienti! In time, I learned some of those regulars have been on their stool inside Dan Tana’s before opening virtually every day for decades.
London Calling
I asked Consul General Valentini if she was able to find a “local” Italian restaurant similar to Dan Tana’s to frequent when she served a diplomatic post in Egypt?
According to Unesco, Italy’s cuisine also serves as its worldwide ambassador. I told the Accademia’s gathered group of 20 people I’d recently delivered a speech to a group of 500 in London. I’d introduced Marietta Maccione, the owner of La Famiglia, a Tuscan restaurant in Chelsea, who’d organized a gala to celebrate the restaurant’s 50 th anniversary.
So popular is La Famiglia, with many celebrities such as Sienna Miller and royals (including the late
Princess Diana), its “Cent Anni” gala had to be held in the great hall of the British Museum of
Natural History, where touches of La Famiglia were designed into the décor. Again – accoglienti!
I cannot put into words how much I have loved Ristorante La Famiglia over the years, except to say I have made diversions to London to lunch on the menu’s pappardelle al cinghiale: Fresh egg flat pasta cut into a broad ribbon shape, traditionally of Tuscany, served with their family wild boar sauce. (Back to cutting pappardelle pasta in a minute.)
La Famiglia’s founder was Marietta’s father, the late Alvaro Maccione. By bringing the tradition of Italian cuisine with him and opening restaurants, he changed the culinary face of post-war London.
When Maccione immigrated to England (never known for its food), he could only find olive oil in chemistry shops!
Maccione is famous for stating, “If you can cook like your mother, you’re a good chef. If you can cook like your grandmother, you’re a great chef!”
Cooking With Class in Class
I admitted to the Accademia group I cannot cook at all, but I did, like many tourists, take a cooking class, at the arrangement of the legendary custom tour operator IC (Italian Connection) Bellagio, at a vineyard in Tuscany.
The small class was, in fact, given by a grandmother – or “Nonna” – in a white apron, who spoke only Italian.
As we finished cutting what would be our tagliatelle noodles to become our lunch – pasta bolognese, I overheard the Nona saying something to the interpreter and gesturing to me. But the interpreter tried to avoid telling me what the Nona said when I asked.
“I am only learning Italian, but I think I heard her say something related to a knife?”
“Maltagliati. Male,” the Nona cried out with a smile.
The interpreter then was forced to relent and explain that I’d cut my noodles so poorly and unevenly that they could not be called tagliatelle! By now, the Nona was laughing kindly as I learned “tagliata male” or “pasta mista” meant a dish made from the pasta pieces left over – the uneven odds and ends – after pasta noodles were properly cut.
I left dinner to the experts that night in Florence. While staying at the historic, perfectly located Brunelleschi Hotel, I walked to the tiny but mighty Trattoria Sostanza for their 7 p.m.
The butter chicken and steak Florentine occupy my thoughts and taste buds to this day.
The Top Expert – Chef Massimo Bottura
The ultimate Italian cooking expert is Massimo Bottura, who, also in Florence, directs the cuisine for the Gucci Osteria. (His Gucci Osteria in Beverly Hills, California, recently closed, a fact we bemoaned.)
In addition to Gucci, Bottura is also aligned with Ferrari, as his Ristorante Cavallino, named for Ferrari’s prancing horse logo, is in what was once Enzo Ferrari’s executive dining room across the street from the automotive factory headquarters in Maranello.
Maranello and Bottura’s home in nearby Modena are in Italy’s culinary capital: the Emilia Romagna Region, which includes Bologna, and is known as the “Land of Fast Cars and Slow Food.” The moniker is due to the region’s production of Ferrari, Lamborghini, Maserati, Ducati, Pagani and other racing vehicles, plus the creation of balsamic vinegar, Lambrusco wine, and Parmigiano Reggiano cheese.
The artistic Bottura fulfilled his dream of bringing Michelin stars to Modena by presenting his own expressive and colorful interpretation of Italian dishes. For instance, his famed dessert named “Opps I Dropped the Lemon Tart,” on the menu at his historic flagship Osteria Francescana, was a result of a confectionery accident in the kitchen.
Massimo liked the visual of what resulted on the floor more than the standard way the tart had been previously plated.
Visiting the Maestro Massimo
I had the buon fortuna to meet Massimo Bottura on the day his newest restaurant, Al Gatto Verde, was named among the world’s top 100. It’s on the grounds of his home, a boutique resort called Casa Maria Luigia outside Modena, where he also produces balsamic vinegar.
In conversation, I asked Bottura if great chefs are as wild and tempestuous as they are depicted in the movies.
His answer was to pull out his phone and show me he’s got actor Bradley Cooper, who played a maniacal chef in the film “Burnt,” among his contacts.
The decidedly light-hearted Bottura, fun fellow that he is, in his monogrammed shoes, blue jeans and chef’s coat, then led me into his garage and office. It was a showroom with its walls adorned with African artworks and a giant glass trophy case of souvenirs and gifts he’d been presented or collected.
The garage was full of his collection of slip-covered, custom Ferraris, Lamborghinis, and even an orange Pantera he’d raced around the countryside that day. He even fired up the engine of his custom Ducati racing bike, which was bolted to the floor.
Bottura’s answer when I asked him why it was anchored was, “Because I don’t want to drink three gin-and-tonics one night and decide it’s a good idea to take a ride.”
Then we stood beside his white Lamborghini, customized to bear an upside-down logo reading “oops” in homage to his famed desert. Bottura told me it was dropped off to him as a gift by Lamborghini’s CEO in honor of Bottura’s worldwide acclaim and the achievement of his Michelin-star for Modena dream.
“Chef Massimo, would you like to know my dream?” I dared to ask.
In his typically excited way, he encouraged me to tell him.
“My dream is to meet Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni,” I stated.
“Ohhh, wow. Really? You want to meet her?”
“Si.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere. Ogni Volta. Any time.”
“She’s in Rome,” he said.
“You’ve cooked for her, I bet?”
“Yes, I have. I cooked for her and Pope Francis at the G7 Summit in Puglia. She went crazy for my tortellini. She loves them.”
“You know how to reach her. You can do it for me.”
“Yes…” he confirmed, now a little more hesitant. “I can call her office, but I don’t know
what the answer will be. She’s very busy.”
As I told this story at the Accademia dinner in Malibu, I paused, looked around the room, and asked a question I knew the answer to: “Is there anyone in this room who once worked in Rome as Prime Minister Meloni’s diplomatic advisor?”
The Consul General grinned…but did not take out her phone to show me her contacts. She did say she would pass along my best wishes to Prime Minister Meloni.
Last Meal at the Accademia
In Prime Minister Meloni’s recent autobiography, “I Am Giorgia – My Roots, My Principles,” she wrote of being motivated by mean schoolkids who taunted her by calling her “Fatso” because she grew up in a restaurant owned by her father.
Bottura invoked his mother when I asked him, given his experienced, sophisticated, global palate, what one meal he would choose if he had one last meal.
“That’s a big question. Would ask my mom…to come back here on earth and cook for me. Because probably what I regret is I didn’t spend enough time with her. I was too busy trying to be successful, or to survive at that time, in order to show my father that she was right and he was wrong. They fought about me becoming a chef in 1984. My father wanted me to be a lawyer, and I said to my mom, ‘Please convince him to let me go and do whatever I want to do.’ And I became a chef.
But that dedication, that obsession with work, brought me sometimes far from my mom.”
In closing the speech to the Accademia at Malibu, Massimo Bottura’s sentiment brought
me back to Alvaro Maccione, so I said:
“If you can cook like your mother, you’re a good chef. If you can cook like your grandmother, you’re a great chef.”
Then I added: If you can cook like Massimo Bottura, please reopen Gucci Osteria in Beverly Hills.
Read more of Michael Patrick’s work at The Travel Tattler and contact him at MShiels@aol.com Order his book Travel Tattler – Less Than Torrid Tales at https://amzn.to/3Qm9FjN
- The World’s Most Culturally Significant Cuisine From Its Most Satiating Destination - January 29, 2026
- Best Cruise Line, Oceania, Combines Cuisine and Culture with Culinary Adventures - January 13, 2026
- Las Vegas Grand Prix Spree and Be Seen on the Scene - December 19, 2025