It is a warm spring morning, the center of Florence is coming alive, the shops are starting to open by lifting up the shutters. The city at this moment is full of tourists, and I, every time I walk these ancient streets rich in history, feel just like them, a tourist in my city.
It must be the happiness from the weather starting to become milder, it must be the excitement of the meeting I will have soon, but I distinctly perceive that it will be a special day.
We arrive on time for the appointment, the palace is ancient with large steps that you climb with difficulty, the person I am going to interview is a true icon of international food. She hosts us in her “Dispensa,” opening the doors of her home for an informal chat.
She is Faith Willinger, an American transplanted to Florence for over 50 years, her accent still typically American identifies her origins. She fascinates us with her wise use of words, just like the ingredients she puts in her dishes: genuine, unique, simple, but with a rich taste.
Faith catapults us into her life stories, which intersect with Italian culinary tradition, the affections, the places of the heart, all presented with such mastery that one remains fascinated.
His "Dispensa" is a sacred place of Tuscan and international cuisine.
Visiting her was a privilege, listening to her stories was truly magical. Faith welcomes us with kindness and grace; I admit I am excited, but she immediately puts me at ease. I have prepared many questions, but I realize it will be more of a chat than anything formal.
She starts by offering me Sicilian almonds, a flavor I believe I have never tried: when the raw material is excellent, even the simplest products make a difference.
“I’ll make you eat these almonds,” says Faith as she hands me the small plate placed right in the center of her large table. “They are lightly toasted, but they are almonds from Corrado Assena; they are always on our table and never missing, as they are a Sicilian tradition. This almond is a synthesis of the journey I undertake to seek out the craftsmanship of a product that seems trivial, yet leaves a sweet and slightly bitter taste that I would say is unique. Among my travels, I visited the almond museum in Sicily, where over 200 types are exhibited—an incredible thing!!! For me, this is getting to know Italy; I think now you have also discovered an unexpected new flavor of Sicilian almonds.”
Faith came to Italy to immerse herself in the food and wine culture; we could say this was the most important journey of her life that led her to stay in our country. I asked her why she got closer to this culture:
“The first thing that shocked me was that in America I knew Italian-American cuisine, but when I arrived here, I got to know the real Italian cuisine and decided I wanted to delve deeper. I went to South Tyrol to a chef with a Michelin star; from him, I learned to select products. I always brought him something: pecorino asparagus, Tuscan wines, and he would ask me where he could buy them. There I realized that even if I would never be as skilled as he was, I could make a difference with the quality of the product. When I returned to Florence after being with him, I would still cook the simple things; now I see that all my friends who come here rejoice in simplicity, and that is what they prefer.”
The simplicity and quality of the product are fundamental elements for Faith.
But when I ask him what emotions he wants to convey to those who savor his dishes, from his answer I understand the passion he puts into what he does:
“For me, the important thing is to let people know about Italian products. Let me give you an example: on this table, there are 4 different oils, all of high quality; if one starts with an exceptional oil, then the game is made. The other day wild leaves arrived for me, for those who are here in Florence it is practically impossible to have them. I have a friend who is a great forager of all kinds of leaves, he only has niche products. Making a salad with wild leaves, a drizzle of oil, and a bit of salt is unmatched; this is simplicity.”
Our conversation continues in his “Pantry,” a place that has a lot of character, reflecting Faith's cosmopolitan personality, but my curiosity to know how it came to be is strong:
“My “Pantry” was born because I was looking for the best raw materials, I took them and brought them home; this is also the place where my friends are. Massimiliano Alaimo, an exceptional chef, says that:
This pantry is your eyes in the world
Because when I find something interesting, I always bring it to him; there is this exchange that is exceptional. He comes to eat here and finds genuine food. For me, this pantry represents the best of Italy or at least the best I have managed to procure, like the meat from Dario Cecchini, which is never missing.
In Faith's Pantry, there are foods, photographs, paintings, utensils, wines, and oils of various types, yet in this great variety, I ask her if there are ingredients she cannot do without, that must never be missing from her table:
"Oil must never be lacking," she replies immediately, pointing to the bottles on the table, "a good water, Sicilian salt, these are the things that I always have with me, and bread, even though it is difficult to find good bread here in Tuscany...
We often travel around Italy; I have traveled here and not to other countries; here there are 25 centuries of history, there is an embarrassment of choices, there is so much to do between one meal and another, there are incredible people and products to discover, like the agresto that no one knows about."
Every story from Faith is an anecdote that has brought her to know something unexpected. I ask her to tell me about one of the numerous travels she has made, mostly in Italy:
"I always go to Irpinia to Vallesaccarda to "Oasis"; I have been going there for many years. It is a restaurant started by the parents and is now run by about 14 members between parents and children. This place, for my husband, is the highest expression of Italian cuisine, and it has received many awards.”
When she prepares a recipe, she is very connected to tradition but still manages to innovate, finding the inspiration that leads her to create the dish ready to be tasted by others:
"What inspires me most about a dish is its seasonality"
Whether when the first products start and even when they finish. We always talk about early harvests, but I speak of the sadness of finality. It means goodbye for a year; these are interesting things to me: better the wait for a product.
Author of three books covering various aspects of Italian cooking and food consumption, including “Adventures of an Italian Food Lover”:
“This book was illustrated by my sister Suzanne; she is an artist and used to come to Italy for months every year. One day she stayed in the hotel while I visited a winery and painted our friend and driver; that’s how she began illustrating all my friends. The book contains a recipe for each of them, but she didn't want photographs, so she created watercolors inspired by the person who, in turn, inspired my dish, such as Alfonso and Livia Iaccherino from “Don Alfonso,” Salvatore and Annamaria from the restaurant “La Tradizione” in Vico Equense.
For Faith, it is a passion, but also, as she says in her bio, an obsession with high-quality products and the many Italian excellences, for example, in the book “Red White and Green” each chapter focuses on a vegetable:
“This was my first cookbook made solely of vegetables in Italy. Vegetables are exceptional because they change every season; back then, no one ever talked about Italian cuisine focused on vegetables.”
Thinking also about the Retrogusti project, what makes the difference beyond quality are also: conviviality, friendship, storytelling. A simple almond put into context and talked about can make a difference and evoke emotion, like what we experienced today here, fascinated by Faith's stories. In short, food is also about bringing people together, but what does food represent for her? She tells us in a few very direct words:
“It seems clear to me that food is my life”
At this point, the question is mandatory; I ask you what the aftertaste represents for you, and your answer makes me understand the extraordinary nature of the woman in front of me: "The final message of a meal."
