Born and bred in Tuscany, in 2015, her husband Tommaso joined the team and now, together, they host convivial cooking classes in their home, right in the heart of the Sienese countryside.
This month, she launched her first book, Cucina Povera: The Italian Way of Transforming Humble Ingredients into Unforgettable Meals (Artisan, £30), an ode to the beauty, simplicity and invention of regional and seasonal Italian cooking. Not only is it exceptionally beautiful, but it also subscribes to the school of thought that having seven or eight really excellent recipes that spark joy in your repertoire is enough. This, along with its exquisite contents, has catapulted it right to the top of our list of instant classic cookbooks.
Here Giulia tells us how Italian identity is wrapped up in food; why you don’t need to spend a fortune on ingredients to make beautiful dishes; and shares two sublime recipes from the book.
Buon appetito.
Congratulations on the launch of Cucina Povera. It is absolutely beautiful. Can you tell us how you came to write the book?
It was May 2020. In Italy, we were easing out of the first severe lockdown, and I was six months pregnant with our daughter when we received an email from Judy Pray, the executive editor at Artisan Books. It said, ‘I’m writing to you because I’m a fan of your work and I have a cookbook idea that you could be the perfect author for’. My husband Tommaso thought it was spam and he was about to throw it away when I entered his room with teary eyes.
It was not a spam email, it was a lifelong dream knocking on the door. Actually, more than a dream. I like to think that it is a project we have been working on for years, since I started my blog Julskitchen.com almost 14 years ago when I left my day job, and since Tommaso and I decided to work together.
It is made up of choices and leaps of faith. In one of the most difficult moments of our lives came the opportunity to write the book we had always hoped to work on, with a renowned international publisher, on a theme close to my heart: the Italian cucina povera. That email led to an extensive correspondence with Judy about the suggested theme, the possible perspective and chapters, the many recipes, the regions and traditions, and the ingredients and principles of cucina povera.
Month after month, I realized how cucina povera is the red thread that characterises the way my family has been cooking since I can remember, my approach to recipes and menus during the cooking classes we teach in our studio in the Tuscan countryside, and the way I daily feed my family.
It explores ‘l’arte dell’arrangiarsi’: can you explain the idea behind that concept?
Arte dell’arrangiarsi refers to the inventiveness of Italian people, the art of figuring it out, of making do with what you’ve got. Translated to food, it is a resourceful approach to cooking, based on simple, affordable ingredients, on dishes that are more than the sum of their parts. The ‘arte dell’arrangiarsi’ finds its highest expression in the way leftovers are upcycled and turned into flavourful, nourishing and filling recipes that can feed small crowds.
Tuscan food is revered the world over for its wonderful flavours and its inventive use of simple ingredients. What could the rest of the world learn from this way of cooking?
The quality of ingredients is paramount in Tuscan recipes, as the cooking techniques are often extremely simple, and the ingredient list is short and essential. When approaching Tuscan, and Italian food in general, choose what is in season and what is produced locally: you’ll find produce that is fresher, tastier, more nutritious, and with better value, fruit and vegetables at their peak of perfection. Following the seasonal and proximity approach is also a guide to cooking and pairing ingredients.
The ideas are very much in keeping with the new necessity of thinking about what we consume sustainably. Somehow Tuscany – and indeed most regions of Italy – never lost sight of this. Why do you think that Italy has always held on so beautifully to its culinary traditions where other countries have not always?
The traditional Italian approach to cooking has always been linked to seasonality and proximity and, most importantly, to a rituality in the consumption of animal proteins, that was eaten just on rare occasions. Besides this, the Italian tradition of cucina povera was born to respond to scarcity and poverty but gave birth to a sustainable way of cooking that still informs our everyday approach to food.
Agriculture – and with this, I mean small-scale farms – has always been important in Italy, and this granted easier access to seasonal produce that still influences our seasonal approach to food.
Food traditions were also a way to preserve our national identity when millions of people were forced to emigrate in search of a better life: preserving the flavours and dishes of their homeland was a way to feel Italian, or, better said, Neapolitan, Sicilian, or from Veneto. Coming back home decades later, they re-imported those traditions and, nowadays, food along with art is one of the cornerstones of the Italian identity.
In a cost of living crisis, the resourcefulness of Tuscan food also shows us how far we can cook imaginatively and well using ingredients that are inexpensive. What are your store-cupboard staples?
Being Tuscan, my first answer is stale bread. I keep it in a cotton bag behind my kitchen door, and that often becomes some of my favourite recipes: pappa al pomodoro, panzanella in the summer, but also a filling for oven-baked vegetables as they do in Basilicata, passatelli from Emilia Romagna, or the base for hearty soups like ribollita.
Along with bread, tomato purée or peeled tomatoes – usually my mum’s preserved tomatoes, the ones she makes during the summer, or a good quality brand from the supermarket – bags of dried beans and chickpeas, canned tuna, and anchovies. They provide an umami boost to whatever dish they are added to. Oh, and dried pasta: you can make a soul-satisfying bowl of spaghetti in less than 20 minutes if you have dry pasta, canned tomatoes, garlic and extra virgin olive oil.
You’ve said that, in writing the book, you realised how strongly the theme of la cucina povera ran throughout your family history and your approach to cooking. Can you tell us a little about some of your favourite early formative food memories?
I learnt to cook thanks to my paternal grandmother, Marcella, and I learnt to feed, and the restorative power of food, thanks to my mum, Anna. We used to make a ciambellone, the simplest yoghurt cake, every Sunday morning, to have it ready for the week ahead. She would prepare white rice with mozzarella whenever I was under the weather: warm and comforting as it is, it will hug you from the inside, she would say.
With grandma, I learnt to make fresh pasta, to pick green tomatoes from the vegetable garden and bite into them - the smell of tomato leaves is still one of my favourite smells. Even though they had two completely different approaches to food, they both taught me to respect food, and that nothing goes to waste.
You work with your husband. Can you tell us about how your little team works?
We are two faces of the same coin, and we complement each other. I am the front office of our business, as I cook, teach cooking classes, and write, while Tommaso is the back office: he is the tech guy, the photographer and video maker, the podcast producer and the head taster of Juls’ Kitchen.
For Cucina Povera, we worked as a team on the recipe index, on the main concepts and themes we wanted to have in the book, and on testing each recipe. Also, during the photo shoots, I am the prop and food stylist, and he is the food photographer.
And you have been publishing your fabulous blog Juls’ Kitchen for fourteen years now. Can you tell us how that all began?
I had always loved cooking, and I had been reading food blogs for a while when, on the first of February 2009, I decided to give it a try, and start my blog, Juls’ Kitchen. The blog was my safe space, my favourite way to connect with the world out there from my kitchen in the Tuscan countryside. It was where I would take note of a new discovery, a recipe that worked unexpectedly well, or a food-related memory that tickled my senses. The blog saved me in a moment when I needed something I could commit to. I have never been consistent in writing a diary as a teenager, as I’m not good at journaling now, but I’ve been writing a blog for 14 years, and that counts as the longest relationship I have ever had.
Now I share my best food writing, random thoughts, personal stories and researched recipes in our newsletter on Substack while the blog remains an online archive of free, tested, reliable recipes.
Do you need to have grown up at the knee of a wise nonna to be able to truly cook Tuscan food, or can anyone learn?
Anyone can learn, and I’m here for this! I teach simple, easy-to-make recipes during my cooking classes in our studio in the Tuscan countryside and online, on my blog and newsletter, Tuscan recipes you can add to your cooking repertoire.
Quoting Amanda Hesser from Cooking for Mr Latte, ‘If you learn six or eight dishes, things you will want to eat week after week, cooking won’t seem such a labour. And other cuisines will no longer feel so out of reach. You don’t need to learn everything. A few timeless dishes that you love is enough.’
And finally – impossible question! – if you have a favourite recipe from your book, which would it be?
I guess pappa al pomodoro (see below for the recipe), the tomato bread soup, which is also my comfort food and one of the best representations of the resourcefulness of the Tuscan cucina povera: stale bread, peeled tomatoes, garlic, basil and extra virgin olive oil. The simplest ingredients give birth to the most delicious, seasonal soup.
Quick-fire questions
What supermarket ingredient could you not live without?
Dry pasta.
Best pasta brand?
Rummo.
Best 10-minute meal?
Pane e pomodoro. A slice of fresh bread, a ripe tomato smeared on it, then salt and dried oregano and a generous pour of extra virgin olive oil.
Favourite kitchen implement?
A wooden spoon.
Your kids’ favourite-ever meal in your repertoire?
Pasta al pesto.
A Taster Of What’s Inside: Giulia Shares Two Recipes From Cucina Povera
Recipes excerpted from Cucina Povera by Giulia Scarpaleggia (Artisan Books). Copyright © 2023. Photographs by Tomasso Galli
Pappa al pomodoro: Tomato and Bread Soup
Pappa al pomodoro is one of the most representative recipes of Tuscan cucina povera. The main ingredients are stale Tuscan bread—a bread that, according to the rest of Italy, is bland, because it is made without salt—and fresh tomatoes (but a can of good peeled tomatoes works just as well).
Pappa al pomodoro recipes differ from region to region: In Florence, the soup is bright red, as the bread is cooked in tomato puree with a battuto of minced onion, carrot, and celery as the flavor backbone. In Siena and the Chianti area, it is paler, made with just a few chunks of fresh tomatoes, along with the stale bread, and garlic instead of the onion. As for the aromatics, fresh basil is the most common herb, but near Pisa, they tend to use wild mint.
In summer, when ripe tomatoes cram the stalls of farmers’ markets, make this soup with ripe Roma tomatoes. If you like, you can quickly peel them so that your pappa al pomodoro will be much more velvety. To do so, cut an X in the bottom of each tomato, plunge them into a pot of boiling water for 30 seconds, and then use a slotted spoon to transfer them to a bowl of cold water to cool; this will help the skins release from the tomatoes. This version of pappa al pomodoro is a thick, dense, porridge-like soup, glistening with extra-virgin olive oil and perfumed with the heady smell of basil. It is comfort food for many people in Tuscany, one of those dishes that wakes up childhood memories and soothes like a warm embrace.
Serves 4 to 6 as a first course
One 28-ounce/794 g can whole peeled tomatoes or 8 ripe
Roma (plum) tomatoes, peeled if desired (see headnote)
½ cup/120 ml extra-virgin olive oil
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes,
plus more to taste
4 thick slices (about 12½ ounces/355 g) stale Tuscan Bread (page 302)
1 tablespoon tomato paste
2 cups/480 ml warm water
2 teaspoons fine sea salt, plus more to taste
A handful of fresh basil leaves, torn
Pour the tomatoes into a large bowl and crush them with your hands.
In a large pot, warm ¼ cup/60 ml of the olive oil over low heat. Add the garlic and red pepper flakes and cook, stirring, until the garlic is fragrant and golden, about 2 minutes. Pour in the tomatoes (set the bowl aside), increase the heat to medium-low, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the tomatoes start to break down into a sauce, about 15 minutes.
While the tomatoes cook, break the stale bread slices into big chunks and place in the tomato bowl. Add cold water to cover and let stand until the bread has soaked up enough water to become soft again, about 10 minutes.
Remove the bread from the water, squeeze it between your hands to remove the excess water, and crumble into the tomato sauce. In a large measuring cup, stir together the tomato paste and warm water until well combined, then add to the pot. Season with the salt, reduce the heat to low, and cook for about 10 minutes, stirring vigorously from time to time with a whisk to give the pappa al pomodoro its typical creamy texture.
Remove from the heat, add the torn basil leaves and the remaining ¼ cup/60 ml olive oil, and stir to combine. Season to taste with additional salt as necessary.
Let the soup stand at room temperature for at least an hour to allow the flavors to mingle, then serve at room temperature or reheat gently over low heat to serve warm
Vignarola: Artichoke, Fava Bean, Pea, and Lettuce Stew
Vignarola is something to look forward to every spring. A staple of Roman trattorias, and a recipe that belongs to the peasant tradition, it is a stew that celebrates spring produce and the arrival of the season. There’s just one short period when young fava beans, fresh peas, artichokes, and spring onions are all at their best, and that is when you must make vignarola.
Spring vegetables demand a slow, gentle simmering, so you want to cook them, covered, in their own stock until they turn into a delicate, creamy stew. Add them to the pan according to the order of their cooking time: begin with the artichokes, which will take the longest, and move on to the fava beans, fresh peas, and, finally, romaine lettuce. Taste the mix each time you add a new vegetable and adjust the seasoning and, if necessary, the cooking time accordingly. Finish with fresh mint.
Enjoy vignarola as a starter or as a side dish; it is perfect served with lamb. Or use it to sauce a bowl of pasta. As with any stew, the leftovers are even tastier the following day.
Serves 4 to 6 as a first course or side dish
4 large artichokes
1 lemon, halved
1 2/3cups/255 g shelled fresh peas (from about 2 pounds/1 kg in the pod), 10 pods reserved
1 3/4 cups/255 g shelled fava beans (from about 2 pounds/1 kg in the pod), 6 pods reserved
2 spring onions, dark green parts removed and reserved, bulbs
and pale green parts sliced, or
12 scallions, thinly sliced
4 cups/1 L water
Fine sea salt
1/4 cup/60 ml extra-virgin olive oil
2 ounces/60 g guanciale or pancetta, cubed
1/2 head romaine lettuce, shredded (about 3 cups)
Leaves from 1 fresh mint sprig
Freshly ground black pepper
Shaved Pecorino Romano for serving
Prep the artichokes: To clean the artichokes, remove the tough outer leaves and cut off the stems; reserve 10 of the leaves for the stock. Peel the stems and cut each artichoke into 8 wedges (see the sidebar about cleaning artichokes on page 53). Use a small spoon to remove the hairy chokes, then rub the artichoke wedges with the halved lemon. Set aside.
Make the stock: Put the reserved 10 artichoke leaves, 10 pea pods, 6 fava bean pods, and dark green parts of the spring onions (or half of the scallions) into a medium pot. Add the water and bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce the heat to an active simmer and simmer for 30 minutes, or until the liquid is reduced by half. Remove from the heat. You need about 2 cups/480 ml stock for this recipe; reserve any extra stock for another use.
Strain the stock through a fine-mesh strainer into a bowl and discard the solids. Return the stock to the pot, season to taste with salt, and keep warm over low heat.
Make the vignarola: In a medium saucepan, heat the olive oil over medium-low heat. Add the guanciale and sliced spring onions (or the remaining serving
By Nancy Alsop
April 2023
