When Carnival arrives, the kitchen returns to celebrate

Carnival doesn't enter on tiptoe.
It arrives with the sound of laughter, with floured hands, with scents that linger.
It is the time of abundance before the quiet, of full tables, of sweets that are prepared "because it's Carnival".

In Savigno, in the hills of Emilia-Romagna, this celebration has never been just a date on the calendar.
It's a way of being together, a changing rhythm, a cuisine that allows itself something extra.

The scent of sweets that smell like home

In the kitchen, Carnival is immediately recognizable. By its aroma.

These are the days when the ovens work slowly and the trays fill up with simple sweets, made to be shared.

Soft and generous, these ravioli from Bologna contain a filling that tells ancient stories. These biscuits need no explanation: just break them open, and Carnival is here.

The light and crispy sfrappole break with a subtle sound, like a promise of celebration. A seemingly humble dessert, it has survived generations without losing its grace.

And then there's the tagliatelline cake , strange and wonderful, born when nothing was wasted and everything was transformed. A dessert that surprises slowly, as real things do.

When even the savoury becomes a celebration

Carnival isn't just about sugar. Warming dishes also arrive at the table, the ones you bring to the center and share without counting.

The tortellini in broth become richer, the lasagna returns to occupy the large pan,
the tigelle pass from hand to hand, opened, filled, shared.

These are dishes that don't try to amaze.
They do something better: they get everyone to agree.

A celebration that speaks of time

Carnival, here, is the moment when cooking stops being just an everyday thing and becomes a ritual again.

We cook more,
we cook together,
you cook for someone.

Not for show, but for the simple pleasure of celebrating before the year gets back on track.

Preserving what makes a true celebration

Today, as then, celebrating Carnival means remembering that food is, first and foremost, an act of care.

A sweet broken,
a pureed dish,
a table that extends.

And perhaps this is what makes Carnival so special: not what you eat, but how you eat it.

Together.