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By a stroke of luck I ended up in Emilia-Romagna, an Eden of good cuisine and tasty ingredients. I had been living in France for nearly a decade, and while the food wowed me, each trip to Italy begged for another. Growing up in the US, I had an idea of ​​Italy as a European state, but now I was discovering its endless provincial diversity. The nation has millennia of history, but has only been a unified country since 1861. Twenty individual regions weave a multicolored mosaic of provinces, cities, and towns: past kingdoms and feudal states.

In 2000 I got a job as a tour guide in a company based in Forlì. I have no idea where that was from. I raised my world atlas on the kitchen table and leafed through the index: F… For… Forlì. Italy sculpts more of a leg than a boot on the map. Forlì lies in Emilia-Romagna: a wide expanse that stretches across her thigh like a garter. The region takes its name from the Via Aemilia, the 160-mile ancient Roman road that stretches east, straight as a tightrope from Piacenza to the Adriatic Sea.

The Apennines, Italy’s mountainous backbone, arc east and then south from the Mediterranean Sea to form the territory’s lower edge. Sloping vineyards and gentle grassy slopes soften the north into tidy orchards. Kiwi bundles populate the flat plain of the Po River. Renaissance towers, medieval ruins and cypress spires cover rolling hills. And wavy grids of silver olive trees grace the slopes.

Emilia-Romagna’s cultural heritage encompasses the mighty-arched cathedral of Parma, the leaning brick towers of Bologna, and the sixth-century mosaics of Ravenna; once the capital of the Western Roman Empire. Pellegrino Artusi, the father of Italian cuisine, grew up in Forlimpopoli.

But Emilia and Romagna are one on paper. In the eighth century, the Frankish king Pepin III pawned the troubled regions of the southeast into the hands of the papacy. Like twins separated at birth, they matured into individual persons. romanoli they are “country pigeons that breed chickens”, say the “presumed smarties” emiliani.

NOBLE EMILIA

Emilia prospered under centuries of wealthy and high-ranking families who maintained their prestige through lavish banquets. Parmesan cheese, balsamic vinegar, prosciutto di Parma and ball – an opulent plate of boiled meats – all come from the region. Bologna sausage too, even if you only knew its poor American cousin: bologna. In 1088, the oldest university in Europe was inaugurated in Bologna la Grassa (Fat Bologna) – also the culinary capital of Italy. Parmesan cheese in process

Lucky for me, it’s also the birthplace of handmade pasta: the centerpiece of weekly family gatherings. On Sunday mornings, Emiliana’s grandmothers pour mounds of flour onto their table-sized cutting boards. Mixing only eggs, they knead it into sticky yellow balls. With meter-long rolling pins, they flatten this sfoglia thin enough to see the wood grain of the board. From the far edge, they roll the huge sheet into a tube, take a wide, flat-bladed knife, and cut quarter-inch rounds. As the spirals develop, classic noodles emerge. The rough texture of the noodles will soak up a rich ragout of slow-cooked ground meats, tomato sauce, red wine and chopped aromatic vegetables.

Local wines often shine to combat such rich food: the bubbles and acidity cut through the fat. Lambrusco brought the area to fame in the 1980s with “Riunite on ice, that’s nice.” The natives call the sweeter version, “the wine soda,” but the dry, sparkling red pairs well with lasagna and heavy meat dishes. Malvasia and Barbera also produce refreshing drinks, most often with sparkling, sparkling foams.

RUSTIC ROMANIA

Romagna faces south towards Rome, from which it gets its name, and the Vatican. Subjected to the rule of the church, Romagna maintained a simple and frugal character. Under the balsamic sun of the Mediterranean, it evolved around seafood, rural gardens, grilled meats and flatbreads. While cream and butter flood Emilia, Romagna cooks with her own olive oil.

Here, your fresh pasta can be eggless, like twisty strozzapreti, also known as “strangle the priest”. Since the housewives had to make extra money for the church, the many stories behind the name end badly for the clergyman. In a vivid version, the cook imagines himself wringing his neck as he twirls flat pieces of pasta between his palms. Brisighella in Romagna

I remember my first passatelli in brodo. For generations, winter brings fierce competition to the mountain town of Rocca San Casciano; rivalry within cities is also strong. the annual Feast of the Phallus divide the community in two rioni (neighborhoods): market against village. Just like the world famous Siena pallium horse race, the people of the town turn 100% into preparing the celebration of the weekend. It takes months to organize the food, the parades, and the phallus: two skyscraper bonfires challenging each other across a glacial stream.

The men invited me to help out on a few winter weekends. We collected truckloads of brooms to erect the towers. Chainsaws whirred as we splashed through frozen mud up snowy hills. For hours we collected branch after branch, the boys passing the time with exaggerated stories of what they did the night before. Finally at noon, we headed into town for lunch. The women of the village had prepared Passatelli: Parmesan cheese and breadcrumbs squeezed into thick, golden noodles. Over a dozen of them floated in meat broth – the liquid left over from our bun – the next course. We ate out of plastic bowls at makeshift tables, but the boiling soup was more welcome than a gourmet meal.

We water the meat with Sangiovese. This grape produces some of the best wines in the country: Chianti, Brunello di Montalcino, and Vino Nobile di Montepulciano, to name a few. Its origins lie somewhere in the Apennines, and Romagna’s best bottles rival those of its more famous Tuscan neighbor. But most locals drink simple concoctions, dispensed in carafes at lunch for a few euros.

The great diversity of Italy amazes me more at this more rustic level. Centuries of competition keep traditions alive. The history, the rivalry and the landscape are revealed in the people and at the table. Emilia’s open stretches and rich history result in sumptuous meats and cheeses. The rustic character of Romagna gives you stronger flavors and a smell of the sea. Is it the rivalry that keeps them so unique and so delicious?