For anyone who loves Italy, the phrase Dream of Italy has a certain magic to it. It suggests the Italy so many travelers carry in their imagination: hill towns, long meals, local stories, ancestral roots, beautiful landscapes and the possibility that a trip might become something much deeper than a vacation.

That's exactly what happened to Kathy McCabe, founder of Dream of Italy, when she first traveled to Italy with her mother to search for her grandfather's ancestral hometown. Her grandfather had dreamed of finding that village for most of his life. Kathy and her mother found it, and just 36 hours later, he passed away.

As Kathy told me in our conversation, it felt almost metaphysical, as though her grandfather had left Italy to her. What began as a personal journey soon became a lifelong obsession, and in 2002 Kathy founded Dream of Italy as a travel magazine and membership website. Today, more than two decades later, Dream of Italy has grown into a rich travel platform with more than 210 magazine issues, PBS television series and specials, travel planning services, moving-to-Italy resources, and now an expanding presence on YouTube and Substack.

If you love baking, Italy, and the kind of cookbook that offers much more than a stack of recipes, Domenica Marchetti's new book Italian Cookies sounds like a real delight. In this recent Flavor of Italy podcast conversation, Domenica joined me to talk about her ninth cookbook, a beautiful and deeply researched exploration of Italian cookies that goes far beyond the familiar idea of biscotti. What emerges from our conversation is a portrait of Italy told through butter cookies, almond cookies, olive oil doughs, rustic biscuits for dunking, and small-town specialties that carry generations of memory and pride.

If there is one flavor that quietly defines the Italian table from north to south, it's bitterness. Not harshness, and not austerity, but a layered, balancing bitterness that sharpens appetite, supports digestion, and brings depth to everything from aperitivo to dessert. Understanding bitter in Italian cuisine means understanding something essential about how Italians taste the world. During a recent conversation with Lolly Martyn, we explored how bitterness runs through Italian food culture in surprising and beautiful ways - from wild greens gathered in fields to amari served after dinner, from espresso to radicchio risotto. For many visitors, bitterness is the most unfamiliar Italian flavor. For Italians, it's indispensable.

The real history of macaroni and cheese stretches back more than 2,000 years and begins not in North America at all, but in ancient Rome.

When people think about macaroni and cheese, they usually imagine a familiar American comfort dish that somehow emerged in the twentieth century and quickly became a childhood staple. Yet the real story of macaroni and cheese history stretches back more than two thousand years and begins not in North America at all, but in ancient Rome. What makes this history so compelling is that it isn't simply the story of a recipe. It's the story of ritual food, class identity, industrial change, migration, women's labor, wartime necessity, and the emotional meaning of comfort at the table.

In my recent conversation with culinary historian Karima Moyer-Nocchi, author of The Epic History of Macaroni and Cheese: From Ancient Rome to Modern America, it became clear that following the trajectory of this single dish reveals an extraordinary amount about who we are and how we eat. Macaroni and cheese history turns out to be a cultural journey as much as a culinary one.

Who Rings Rome's Church Bells? Not Always a Bell Ringer A few years ago, I recorded a podcast episode about something many of us notice in Italy but rarely stop to think about - the sound of church bells drifting across the city. I found myself wondering: is there really someone up there in the bell tower pulling the ropes, or is it all automated now? Around that time, my husband showed me a newspaper article about a Roman bell ringer whose fascination with bells began when he was still a toddler in a stroller. His mother would take him around Rome to hear different bells ringing at different hours because he loved them so much. That early curiosity stayed with him, and as an adult he became a bell ringer himself. I knew immediately I wanted to speak with him. The episode that followed turned into a wonderful exploration of bell ringing traditions in Italy. I learned about different regional styles, including the distinctive system used in Verona, and even how Italian approaches compare with English bell ringing. It opened up a whole hidden world behind a sound we hear so often without realizing what's involved. I'm re-releasing this episode now because it feels especially appropriate at this moment. As Holy Week approaches, Rome fills with the sound of bells. Whether you're here in the city or simply remembering visits past - or planning a future trip - this episode will change the way you listen. Sometimes there's a person high in the bell tower guiding those sounds. Sometimes there isn't. Either way, there's a story behind every bell you hear. This has always been one of my favorite episodes of the Flavor of Italy podcast, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. And if you're in Rome during this season of ringing bells, listen closely - now you'll know what may be happening high above you.

If you think Italian cooking is mostly about pasta and meat, my conversation with Giulia Scarpaleggia will gently change your perspective. Her new cookbook, Vegetables the Italian Way - Turning Simple and Fresh into Extraordinary, shows something Italians have always known but the rest of the world is only beginning to rediscover: vegetables Italian style are not side dishes but central elements of everyday meals. Her approach to vegetables the Italian way reflects what happens in real Italian home kitchens, where vegetables appear in antipasti, pasta dishes, savory pies, soups, and main courses. This is not restaurant Italian food. It's how families cook across Italy every day. This fabulous cookbook releases, April 14 and is available now for pre-order! Check out the link in the podcast episode show notes.

Sometimes the most remarkable pieces of history are hidden inside everyday places. One such place is the Antica Farmacia Reale, located in the historic center of Rome near the Spanish Steps. What makes this pharmacy extraordinary is not simply its age, although it is certainly old. What makes it truly remarkable is that it is still operating today as a fully functioning pharmacy. The Antica Farmacia Reale can document its history back to 1672, which is already extraordinary for a commercial establishment that is still operating today. What makes this claim especially compelling is that Giulio possesses a series of original documents tracing the pharmacy's ownership from that time forward. These records show the pharmacy passing from one owner to another across centuries, creating a rare and continuous historical record. Giulio has spent years studying these documents and researching the pharmacy's past, and although he continues to search for earlier records, the documentation he already possesses clearly demonstrates the longevity of this remarkable establishment.

167 Years of Italian Craftsmanship in the Heart of the Eternal City - Historic Linen Shop in the Heart of Rome

Just steps from the Italian Parliament, tucked into one of the most elegant corners of Rome's historic center, sits a remarkable shop that many people walk past without realizing the extraordinary history inside. Tebro, a Rome historic linen shop founded in 1867, has been serving the city for more than 167 years, quietly building a reputation for quality, discretion, and craftsmanship that reaches far beyond the streets surrounding it.

The store today is located on Via dei Prefetti, inside the centuries-old Palazzo Pallavicini. The building itself dates back to the medieval period, and the Tebro premises now occupy roughly one thousand square meters of space within it. The location could hardly be more central. Within just a few minutes' walk are the Trevi Fountain, the Pantheon, Piazza di Spagna, and some of the most beautiful streets in Rome. It is one of those places where the layers of Roman history feel very close at hand.

Yet what makes Tebro truly remarkable is not only its location, but the fact that it represents something increasingly rare in modern cities: a historic, multi-generational family business that has managed to preserve its identity while adapting to the realities of contemporary life.

Crimes Against Art - What We DON'T See Behind the Headlines When news broke about the recent Louvre theft, the story felt almost cinematic. A bold break-in, a swift escape, international headlines. Like many of you, I followed it with fascination. But in my recent conversation with Lynda Albertson, Executive Director of ARCA, I was reminded that crimes against art are rarely isolated, dramatic events. They are part of a much larger and more complex global reality. The Louvre case dominated the news cycle in late 2025, but crimes against art occur constantly around the world. In the past five years alone, there have been dozens of similar museum thefts involving objects that can be quickly removed, broken down, and resold.

If you think you know Fettuccine Alfredo, you may want to think again. Recently I sat down inside one of Rome's most historic restaurants, Il Vero Alfredo, to talk about the true story behind this iconic dish. My guest was Chiara Cuomo, the fourth generation of the family behind the restaurant. What I discovered is that the real Fettuccine Alfredo is far simpler, more elegant, and far more meaningful than most people realize. Tune in for the rest of this magnificent story!

In the heart of Rome's Jewish Ghetto, just opposite the Portico d'Ottavia and steps from the Teatro di Marcello, there is a staircase that leads down into history.

That staircase belongs to Leone Limentani Rome, one of the oldest family-run shops in the city — founded in 1820 and still operated by the same family, now in its seventh generation.

I first discovered Leone Limentani Rome decades ago when I lived on Via Giulia. I would walk along the Tiber and into the Ghetto, descend those stairs, and find myself in what felt like an Aladdin's cave of porcelain, crystal, and silver. Shelves stretched in every direction. Ginori plates. Limoges porcelain. Christofle cutlery. Baccarat crystal. Everything touchable. Everything real.

And that tactile immediacy is still part of what makes Leone Limentani Rome so special today.