It is hard to say which had a stronger influence on Western society, the printing press or pasta. Yet let's face it: without the printing press, who could even read a cookbook? We are also immeasurably thankful for this pre-internet method of spreading the word about our traditional Tuscan cooking school.

Examples:   Click on any of the following.

From Kiplinger's, October, 2003.

Our van lurches up a hill, past silvery olive trees, sleepy cows and bursts of bougainvillea until it emerges at the foot of two stone villas. On the lawn a table has been set in the shade of a chestnut tree. Behind it the Apuan Alps meet the Tuscan sky.

Nine of us have traveled from the U.S. to attend Toscana Saporita, a week-long cooking program held at this hilltop estate near Viareggio, in the northwest province of Lucca. Avid amateurs (and a few duffers), [we are here] to participate in classes conducted by Sandra Lotti, a native Tuscan who is known throughout Italy for her local cuisine.

We're here to enjoy the full-blown pursuit of passion in the perfect setting.... What better place to do it than a medieval estate with exquisite views of the region that gave birth to Michelangelo, Dante and Puccini? There is no better place we decide as we lunch the first day on creamy local cheeses, bruschetta with red-onion tapenade, translucent slivers of prosciutto, and plates piled with cantaloupe, watermelon, cherries and grapes.

A California retiree has a revelation.. His previous attempts at pasta making, copied from a TV cooking class, always included too much flour. "I was like the pianist who knows only the notes but not the music," he says. Sampling the finished dish, he says, "This is good music."

By his measure we're living a Puccini opera. Over the next few mornings we sear pork loin, knead focaccia, stir risotto, flip frittatas and heat cream for the traditional custard-like dessert known as panna cotta -- and savor it all in four-course lunches.

After lunch we stagger to the ancient towns of Pisa, Lucca and Lerici, and return to the estate to sample wines from Tuscan vintners, and to taste the intense chocolates of Amedei. "As with everything Tuscan," Lotti says of the local chocolatier, "Their motto is "Passion above all.'"

Trophies of the day's lessons - eggplant parmigiana, tiramisu - arrive at dinners served in the beamed dining room, along with ringers, such as spice-infused beef and chocolate terrine drizzled with blood-orange sauce.

That's the beauty of this art form, says Lotti. "Sculpture is good, but you cannot taste it, you cannot smell it. Cooking involves all the senses. It's the best art - it's the gift of love."

Press Section (Beginning)  

From the Intermezzo, Premiere issue, 2002.

Highlights from "Learning to be Tuscan, One Course at a Time" by Raquel Pelzel:

At the top of a hill, among wild-growing artichokes and 9,000 gnarled olive trees sits Toscana Saporita - a cooking school getaway where you will eat 42 food courses, drink heartily and never count the calories.

During the six days that I attended the cooking school, Sandra Lotti, the school's owner, head chef, leader, instructor, philosopher, comedienne and history teacher was intent on making available every Italian food item we'd ever heard, read, or thought about. But while eating is an enormous component of the Toscana Saporita experience, the true mission of the school is to teach students about Tuscan cuisine through hands-on experience.

Unlike other Italian cooking schools I'd heard about where students stand around a demonstration island and watch a chef dictate (in Italian) what should and should not be done to an artichoke, at Toscana Saporita, students actually peel, trim and prepare the artichokes themselves. "Teaching is arrogant. Tuscan cuisine isn't about teaching - it's about doing," says Sandra. "Inside everybody, there is a chef."

We began our first lesson by dicing our way through carrots, celery and onions. Sandra then taught us one of the most pivotal techniques for authentic Italian cooking: how to make a soffrito…. "I always make fun of French cuisine because they cover their flavors by sautéing. We Italians don't like to cover flavors. We build layers of flavor, starting with the soffrito…."

If we were a little shy and tentative on our first day, the trials and tribulations of making pasta definitely brought us together. Flour everywhere, people bumping arms, pasta dough sticking to the table, to the machine and to each other. It was pure fun.

Beneath the outstretched arms of a massive chestnut tree on the main lawn was a table set with faded blue linen tablecloths and casual wine glasses. We each chose a spot and drank some chilled white wine, talking about our pasta machines stored away in a closet or attic and how we couldn't wait to retrieve them when we got home. Those of us who didn't have pasta machines were going to buy one post haste.

After talking and eating, sipping wine and taking in the Tuscan countryside, it was time to prepare for an afternoon tour. We visited the small coastal town of Lerici, just north of Tuscany's border with Liguria. The town is propped up against the backdrop of the aquamarine Lugurian Sea and boasts a castle, boat dock and strolling avenue.

(After some adventures and a fabulous dinner back at the school: )

At just past 11:00 p.m. we started to excuse ourselves from the table and reluctantly head to our rooms. I had the feeling that no one really wanted to leave, but this was only day one of six. The next morning would be filled with more of everything and so would we - one course at a time.

Press Section (Beginning)  

From Beard House, The Magazine of the James Beard Foundation (Winter, 2001):

"For a week, I lived on an olive oil estate with a dozen other students, spending each morning in a centuries-old kitchen, preparing all sorts of soups, homemade pastas, and roasted meats. When everthing was ready, we'd take our seats at a long, narrow table on a lush, sun-soaked lawn in front of the main villa. Platters were passed, wine was poured, compliments were flung far and wide - it was as if we were filming a commercial for some bad California Chardonnay. In other words, it was perfect."
- Adam Rapoport.

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