A long week end in Toscana
Plus a recipe inspired by the butter chicken at Trattoria Sostanza...
A couple of weeks ago, I spent four days in Tuscany to celebrate my birthday, but also to return to the place we used to live at my favourite time of year, when the poppies, irises, and daisies blanket the mountainside.
We scattered my Dad’s ashes there in April 2023, and I’ve returned every April since. Granted that’s only been two, but I know that as life goes on, I won’t be able to come back every year. One year will stretch into three, and before I know it, five years might pass before I find myself sitting in that grass again in the place where I feel closest to him, where his energy has quite literally gone to feed the flowers, grass and trees that grow wildly there.



My Dad had many great passions in life, amongst them wine and Dante. He was wise, spiritual, pragmatic and quietly hilarious. A mentor and inspiration to so many, he commanded attention without ever demanding it. I don’t think he feared death. In fact, during his final years, he longed for the grim reaper to come and put him out of his misery (his words). About a year before he passed, I told him a family friend had died. He asked me how and I said ‘heart attack- he died instantly’ to which he replied ‘lucky bastard…’
He was ready to go. And while I’ll never forgive myself for not being there when he passed, there’s some small comfort in the knowledge that he was reading Dante’s Paradiso at the time, undoubtedly imagining his version of paradiso, which he liked to call ‘the great vineyard in the sky’. Of course heaven would be full of wine... (By the way, I’m fairly certain he coined the phrase ‘vineyard in the sky’- he was saying it long before a book of the same name was published.)
I remember feeling intensely irritated at the time when people told me “It’ll get easier.” But of course, they were right. I don’t remember who said this to me- it was all a bit of a blur- but I’ve never forgotten the sentiment, because it's come to be true: Think of grief like a dark circle. It doesn’t shrink, but the light around it grows.
So, in the spirit of growing the light, let’s talk about one of the things that brings me great joy: food, and the other reason I went to Italy: to eat.
Four days of eating
I honestly don’t understand how people who don’t love food structure their days- or their lives, for that matter. What do they look forward to? What’s the point of anything without a delicious meal at the end of it? I’m pretty sure most of you reading this are fellow food lovers, so I feel safe asking: are these people... sociopaths?
Anyway, the point is, my days always revolve around food when I’m on holiday. Everything is a means to a meal.
So, of course the first order of business was lunch. We went to I’Brindellone, a traditional trattoria on the Oltrarno, the quieter side of the Arno River. It’s a more peaceful area, far less touristy and polished than the city centre. Florence can be incredibly hectic, so I’d avoid the summer months when it’s crazy hot and even more crowded. Stay in the Oltrarno rather than the city centre, I love the San Frediano neighborhood.
At I’Brindellone, we had tortelloni di patate with sugo di carne, and would you believe it, salsiccia con fagioli - sausage and beans. It wasn’t life-changing, but it was also absolutely perfect in its simplicity, if you know what I mean.


One of my oldest friends owns a wine bar called Enoteca Bellini, and it’s my favorite spot in Firenze. Grab a glass of wine and stand outside or sit on the steps of the little piazza across the street. Make sure you get the anchovy crostone (a big crostino). It's served with tons of butter and thick strips of lemon zest.
For dinner, we went to Trattoria Sostanza (referred to by locals as il Troia)- a place that feels completely frozen in time, in the best way. All the food is cooked over a wood fire, and to get to the toilet, you have to walk right through the kitchen, which I absolutely love. There’s so much fun stuff happening in there its hard not to stop and stare on your way to the loo.
Sostanza is best known for its butter chicken: a chicken breast, lightly floured, dipped in egg, and pan-fried in an outrageous amount of butter until it’s golden and crispy on the outside, juicy on the inside. It’s served tableside, still sizzling with a wedge of lemon. You’ll find a recipe inspired by it at the end of this post.
Another must-try is the torta di carciofi- an artichoke omelette, also very heavy on the butter. We tried recreating it at home for breakfast the next day and let’s just say its best left to the professionals. Honourable mention also to the tomatoes, which were honestly some of the best we’ve ever tasted.
For the past few years I’ve stayed opposite or very near to Pasticceria Buonamici, which I adore. From the classic cantucci that they slice warm from the oven to the fedora cake that’s only available on Sundays. I’m a sucker for a chocolate millefoglie and they do a very good one.


We had a truly phenomenal lunch at Dalla Lola, a buzzy restaurant that does playful twists on classic Tuscan dishes. I’m a massive fan of liver (so much so I founded a club called Liver Lovers), and the chicken livers sautéed with onions in a sweet, sticky sauce absolutely floored me. Alongside that, the sautéed bietola (chard) and some of the best roast potatoes I’ve ever had- crispy, oily, garlicky, and rosemary-infused.
By the way, I’ll take Tuscan roast potatoes over English ones ANY DAY. Sorry, but what's all the fuss about English roast potatoes? SUCH A FAFF! Peel, par boil, fluff, preheat vats of fat to dangerously scorching temperatures- and for what? I’ve literally never been impressed. Convert to Tuscan: keep the skin on, skip the parboiling and just throw them in the oven with loads of olive oil, garlic, rosemary, and salt and you’re quite literally golden.


For the next two days, we stayed at Podere il Poggiolo, an agriturismo just down the hill from where we used to live. It’s unbelievably beautiful—surrounded by vineyards, olive groves, and a small cast of characters: Geppetto the donkey, Flo the dog, and Dante the wild boar, who’s roughly the size of a small hippo.
Staying there felt especially meaningful. From the pool, you can look up and see the cypress trees that surround the house where we used to live, where I spent my formative childhood years.



Serena, one of the owners, is an incredible cook who uses mostly ingredients from their organic orto. We feasted on carpaccio di carciofi, fried sage, caponata, pici with aglione (a giant, young garlic), tagliata with pink peppercorns and rosemary, and ended with a torta della nonna—a custard and pine nut cake so light it practically floated off the plate.



For my birthday dinner, we went to my favorite restaurant in the world: Ristorante Pizzeria Acone. It hasn’t changed one bit since we first started going 32 years ago, except for the sign that used to hang on the wall.
It read: ‘In questo locale è severamente vietato girare le…’ with two ping pong balls stuck underneath. This means: ‘In this place, it’s strictly forbidden to spin the…’- you can guess what the balls were referring to. The phrase ‘girare le palle’ literally means ‘spin/turn the balls’ (read: testicles) but it’s a colloquial way of saying ‘to piss off/annoy/irritate’’ So, it was a wonderfully blunt way of the restaurant saying: don’t piss us off. The sign mysteriously disappeared a while ago, but its spirit absolutely lives on.
If you know me or if you’ve read either of my books, you’ll have heard me wax lyrical about Penne All’Aconese, probably my favourite dish of all time- one that everyone that comes to Ristorante Pizzeria Acone falls in love with. It’s a secret recipe they’ve been cooking up for nearly 50 years. It might look simple but it’s deeply complex. It probably contains porcini, cured pork, black pepper, cream, dried chilli, tomato (who knows? It’s a secret!) but it also contains magic and wizardry. It's the same, every damn time, which is to say it’s perfect every time. It’s inimitable and that’s a good thing, because it’ll keep me coming back for more for the rest of my life.
I have so much more to say about this corner of the world and so many more places to recommend, but I’m going to have to save it for another post.
For now, a recipe…
Chicken cutlets in curry butter sauce
Make sure you’re using sweet, ripe cherry tomatoes, they’ll make all the difference.
Make sure your tray/dish is no bigger than 30 x 23cm (unless you’re scaling up the recipe), otherwise the contents will burn. Keep an eye as it roasts, if it’s getting too dark you can add a splash of water.
Tomatoes and sauce
200g sweet cherry tomatoes (I like Datterini)
2 red birdseye chillies
3 tbsp olive oil
30g salted butter
Juice of 1 lemon
Chicken and marinade
2 chicken breasts
1 tbsp maple syrup
1 tsp medium curry powder
1 tsp fine sea salt
½ tsp urfa chilli flakes
Black pepper
To finish
10g fresh basil
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 lime
Preheat the oven to 220C fan.
Crush the cherry tomatoes in your hands to get rid of most of the seeds. Do this in the sink as they can splatter.
Add the tomatoes to a 30 x 23cm baking tray/dish with the chillies, oil, butter and lemon juice. Mix and set aside.
For the marinade, add the maple syrup, curry, salt, urfa and pepper to a large bowl and mix together.
Place a large piece of parchment on your work surface. Pat the chicken breasts dry, then one at a time, place a breast on one side of the parchment. With one hand holding the breast steady, use a sharp knife to carefully slice into the thickest side, cutting almost all the way through, but not completely. Then, open the two halves like a book so it lays flat.
Drizzle the breast with a little oil (so the parchment doesn’t stick to it), then cover it with the other half of parchment. Use a rolling pin to evenly pound the chicken so it’s about 2 cm thick. You don’t need it to be too thin, so don’t overdo it and also don’t worry if the chicken comes apart a little, this is a rustic dish.
Add the chicken to the bowl with the marinade, then repeat with the other breast. Mix the chicken breasts and marinade together until evenly coated.
Place the chicken pieces flat in the tray, making sure the tomatoes are spaced evenly around.
Bake for 10-15 mins, until the chicken is browned and the tomatoes are beginning to blacken in parts.
Transfer the chicken to a platter. Add the basil, garlic and the juice of half a lime to the tray with the tomatoes and stir, then spoon all over the chicken.
Finish with a sprinkle of urfa and serve with the remaining lime. Chop up the birdseye chillies for extra heat, if you like.







I feel like I can almost taste that pasta by the way the sauce coats it, Ixta - looks absolutely mesmerising. Definitely going to try the chicken!!
I have cooked your Mushroom Ragu countless times. I was so happy to hear more about its backstory.