How I ended up on a farm in the countryside of Lazio:

a short story about bread, friendship and Italy.

2020

The back door into the kitchen at Fiore Market Café was slightly ajar when I got out of my Uber in South Pasadena at 2:55 am. It was a Tuesday morning in August 2020, the first day of what would be a brief bakery internship assisting the owner in baking their daily bread for their locally famous sandwiches. I wanted to see what it felt like working in a real bakery after spending a couple of months experimenting in my home kitchen, and Fiore was the only place to let me in during those uncertain months of the pandemic.

When I walked in, Bill, the owner, was in the corner at the espresso machine. He greeted me with a cappuccino and a question, “ Cocoa powder?” I nodded yes, already taken with the casual welcome, and took my mug. It was a small cup, less than 8 ounces for sure, with only a thin layer of foam. My first sip stopped me in my tracks.

My chest tightened and my mind soared back in time. I hadn’t had a coffee drink like this in years… Come in Italia. Just like in Italy, I thought to myself, feeling my gut drop in nostalgia.

“This is a really good cappuccino,” I noted aloud. “I like the size.”

“Yeah, it’s more like the ones in Italy.”

I looked up as my chest tightened even harder. “That’s exactly what I was thinking!”

Bill finished making his cup and leaned against the counter.

“Yeah, I love these so much more. I’ve been going to Italy for 20 years and haven’t found anything like them here.”

I don’t remember at which point in our conversation my eyes started to well up, but by the time we had exchanged stories about our experiences in Italy, the people we had there, the lives we’d lived there, we were both glossy-eyed and yearning for the same place that had taken us both in with open arms.

For the next few weeks, I came in on Tuesday and Thursday mornings to help Bill shape and bake their loaves. It was often just me and Bill back there and some days a pastry cook would come bake lemon bars or brownies. I started looking forward to those 3 am cappuccini and quiet chats — they made me feel connected to Italy and myself in a way I never had in Los Angeles.

The more I listened the more everything about the café made sense to me. The simple sandwiches, the rusted but functioning bread ovens, the casual atmosphere on the terrace, the way all the customers felt like they were at home…Bill had created a slice of Italy on a street corner of South Pasadena.

After three weeks, my time at Fiore was done. And even though I decided the 2 am wake-up call might not fare well for me, those mornings were pivotal to where I went next.

Bread and baking became my ways of connecting with Italy from afar, too. I left Bill’s kitchen and decided to launch my own pizza business, learning from Italians and other carb enthusiasts on the internet.

And of course Bill, who was definitely around my dad’s age, who was the owner of this café, who showed up at 3am every day even when no one else did, whose favorite food I learned was pizza, whose beloved wife had passed away not that long before, who had made a home in a small town in Lazio, Italy, became my friend.

2023

“You should come visit us in Italy,” Bill said as we sipped our overpriced café allongées on a terrace overlooking the Notre-Dame cathedral. It was April 2023 and he was visiting the city with his partner Eileen as I was finishing up my year in Paris. At this point, Bill had sold Fiore and split his time between Italy and the desert outside of Los Angeles.

It’s important to note here that when someone offers to host me at their home in a far away place, or offers me a cup of coffee, or offers to involve me in their creative project, I can’t say no.

And so, when the Spanish bank holiday that excused me from my masters’s courses in Barcelona aligned with Bill’s stay in his home in Lazio, I obliged.

HERE are some photos from those 3 days with Bill, his partner Eileen, and snippets of the life he’s built in a small town and on a small farm in Lazio, about an hour away from Rome.