Meals on Wheels

A family trip to Modena in the heart of Italy’s Emilia-Romagna

By Tim Johnson

It’s not yet noon, and already, Lorenza has opened a world of culinary delights for us. Gathered around a big table in the front room of an Italian country villa, owned by the same family since the 19th century, we’re all in aprons, working away to prepare several courses for a midday meal. On the drive out, we took in views of sunflower fields, and spotted dealerships for iconic sports cars, like Ferrari and Maserati. But now, under the watchful eye of our expert maestra, it’s time to get down to business.

WRITER TIM JOHNSON AND HIS FAMILY

© TIM JOHNSON

For the ricotta cake, my niece Brooke, 17, handles the mixer while my nephew Hunter, 13, pours in the ingredients. A few minutes later, while making the dough for tigelle, a pizza-like flatbread, one of them cracks an egg and half the shell falls into the bowl. Both break out in laughter, while Lorenza looks on shaking her head with a hint of disapproval, but still with a warm smile.

TIGELLE, A PIZZA-LIKE FLATBREAD

We’re just outside of Modena, a small Italian town of 20,000 in Emilia- Romagna, a region in the country’s north, just next to Tuscany. While the latter gets most of the good press, it’s here in where many things that we identify as distinctly Italian were invented and still produced. I’m exploring the area with my sister Lisa, my brother-in-law Jeremy, and their two kids.

MODENA

Modena’s advent dates to ancient times, and this city is located along the Via Aemilia, one of the main Roman roads, completed back in 187 BC. It is the birthplace of famed carmaker Enzo Ferrari and operatic tenor Luciano Pavarotti, as well as superstar chef Massimo Bottura. His three-star Michelin restaurant, Osteria Francescana, has been listed among the top five of the World’s 50 Best Restaurants for more than a decade.

FERRARI MUSEUM

© EMILIA-ROMAGNA TOURISM

Modena is in the middle of both the “food valley” and the “motor valley,” home to not just Ferrari but also Lamborghini, Maserati and Pagani. It’s the latter that has captured Hunter’s attention.

MOTOR VALLEY, MODENA

© EMILIA-ROMAGNA TOURISM

I am not a car guy, but for my nephew, a trip to the small, stylish Pagani plant, about 15 minutes outside the city limits, is a dream come true. Horacio Pagani, an Argentinian by birth, came to Italy with a dream, and little else. He first used his extraordinary design and engineering skills for Lamborghini, initially sweeping the floor and quickly working his way up in the company. When he left and went out on his own, his first shop was just a small shed.

Now, Pagani automobiles, made with carbon fibre bodies and highly customizable designs, can sell for more than $20 million. (The average price starts at $3 million.) Before we proceed to a behind-the-scenes tour of the production floor, where a few employees make the magic happen hand-assembling these automobiles, we walk down a line of sparkling coupes in a small, slick museum in the front of the building.

Hunter had already explained that his favourite car is a specific model – the Pagani Zonda R. I ask him if he sees it here. “I’m trying not to look ahead,” he says, noting how much he’s enjoying examining these beauties. And, while it’s left unsaid, I infer that perhaps he’s also staving off disappointment, if his beloved Zonda R is not included in the museum.

But it’s there, right on the end, the last car of the bunch. Hunter’s face lights up, as if it’s Christmas morning. He seems in awe of this machine, savouring every second in its presence. Lisa, Brooke and I snap his photo in front of it.

NEPHEW HUNTER IN FRONT OF HIS FAVOURITE CAR

© TIM JOHNSON

Back at the villa, we’re prepared to taste the fruits of our labour, but first we must hone our pasta-making skills. Lorenza instructs us to make a little “volcano” out of our flour. “In Italian, we call it a fontana, a fountain,” she says. I ask her how many times she has made pasta. She learned from her grandmother and mother, she explains, and for decades has made it “every day, every day.”

She deems Brooke’s flour mountain to be the best. My niece is clearly demonstrating the baking skills learned from hours of watching the Food Network. We add eggs, and then start kneading and sculpting and rolling, getting it just perfectly thin. “You need to be able to read a newspaper behind it,” Lorenza tells us.

Then, we cut out strips for the tagliatelle and do a little origami to create the tortelloni, filling it with spinach, ricotta, salt and nutmeg, then twisting the dough into the proper shape. Hunter shows me how. I wrap the dough around my finger, cross it at the bottom and seal. “You can come work for me,” Lorenza says brightly, and for a minute, I think she means me, but she’s talking to Hunter, of course.

Once the pasta is dropped into the boiling water, we finish it in a saucepan with butter and sage. The pasta is al dente, buttery perfection. After a few bites, Brooke exclaims, “It’s so good!” And from start to finish, in a place known for excellence, it really is the best.