A Culinary Journey: My Unforgettable Encounter with Marcella Hazan, The Icon of Italian Cuisine

It’s remarkable how a seemingly small event, like a shared meal, can profoundly alter the course of one’s life. For Marcella Hazan, the revered figure who taught America how to truly cook Italian, that pivotal moment arrived in 1970. It was when Craig Claiborne, the esteemed food critic from the New York Times, joined her for lunch. This singular meal served as a catalyst, propelling her into the spotlight and drawing an illustrious crowd of celebrities, writers, chefs, and influential personalities to her cooking classes. Marcella Hazan quickly became synonymous with authentic Italian cooking, a journey that would lead to six best-selling cookbooks, numerous Lifetime Achievement awards, and a fundamental transformation in how Americans approach, appreciate, and prepare Italian food.

My own life-altering culinary encounter, much like Marcella’s, happened just last week, though it unfolded in a more personal and serendipitous manner. The opportunity to meet such a legend was entirely unexpected, despite my friendship with Lael and Giuliano Hazan, Marcella’s son, for several years. The stars aligned when Pamela Sheldon Johns, a distinguished food writer and chef, was in the area for a book tour. A flurry of emails, text messages, and phone calls between Pamela and me quickly solidified our plans: lunch at the elegant Ritz Carlton in Sarasota, with the incredible addition of Marcella Hazan herself.

Meeting the Doyenne of Italian Cooking

Anticipation mingled with a touch of apprehension as the day of our meeting approached. I had heard whispers of Marcella’s intense and somewhat intimidating presence, but I expected nothing less from the “doyenne of Italian cooking in America.” She was, after all, described by many as a fervent force of nature, a culinary trailblazer who commanded respect and attention. This formidable reputation only heightened my excitement to finally engage with the woman who had shaped countless kitchens and palates.

The lunch at the Ritz Carlton was a delightful affair. I found myself on my absolute best behavior, consciously avoiding any culinary faux pas, like my usual enthusiastic slurping of Pork Belly Ramen Noodles. The fear of inadvertently splashing a rich broth onto my esteemed dining companions was enough to ensure perfect table manners. Our conversation flowed effortlessly, moving from Pamela’s renowned cooking school in Italy to the nuances of olive oil, the art of cookbook writing, and the adventures of a book tour. However, it soon became clear that Pamela and I were doing most of the ‘flitting’ through topics. Marcella, in her characteristic way, listened intently, her eyes occasionally drifting off as if contemplating deeper culinary philosophies. Just when I worried we might have inadvertently bored her, she would flash a warm smile and interject our lighthearted chatter with a piece of her profound wisdom, her signature bluntness, or one of her staunch and well-reasoned opinions. It was a fascinating interplay, a testament to her enduring intellect and passion.

An Invitation to a Private Culinary Journey

This initial lunch was pleasant, but it wasn’t the “THE LUNCH” that would truly become a defining moment for me. As we prepared to depart from the Ritz, Marcella posed a question that sent a ripple of excitement through me: she wanted to know when I would come to her house to cook Chinese food. Her fondness for Chinese cuisine, I learned, had largely gone unfulfilled in Sarasota, where local Chinese-American restaurants often disappointed by drowning every dish in the same uninspired, goopy brown sauce. I recalled reading that, ironically, it was a Chinese cooking class back in 1969 that had ignited her own culinary journey and set her on the path to becoming an Italian cooking legend. Phone numbers were exchanged, and a seed of an extraordinary opportunity was planted.

The very next day, my phone rang. “Hello, this is Marcella. We met yesterday. Do you remember me? When are you coming over?” It was her distinct voice, direct and unmistakable. My mind, of course, instantly clicked: *Marcella… Marcella… Oh, OF COURSE I REMEMBER!* The excitement was palpable. Lunch at Marcella and Victor’s beautiful home was officially scheduled. For my culinary contribution, I decided to prepare two dishes from my cookbook: My Mother’s Famous Chinese Crispy Egg Rolls and Chinese Sausage Fried Rice. Both are dishes I could execute flawlessly without a recipe, a crucial advantage when cooking for culinary royalty. While I couldn’t pretend that cooking for a legendary chef was part of my everyday routine, I could at least ensure the food would be exceptional.

Inside the Hazan Home: A Glimpse into a Culinary Legend’s Life

Their condominium, offering a breathtaking panorama of the serene blue waters of the Gulf, exuded an understated elegance, adorned with exquisite treasures gathered from around the world. A magnificent, richly colored, cone-shaped lantern, as grand as a satellite dish, commanded attention at the heart of their living room. “It’s Venetian,” Victor explained with a twinkle in his eye, “Have you ever been to Venice?”

Victor Hazan is a man of remarkable charm and wit. At 81, he remains sharply intellectual, quick with a clever remark, and undeniably a ladies’ man. Dressed impeccably in perfectly pressed slacks and a button-down shirt, with a neatly trimmed goatee and his short, stylishly tousled grey hair, he radiated a timeless elegance. His vitality and humor were infectious, making him an immediate and cherished part of the experience.

Marcella, at 87 years old (her birthday had just passed the previous week), carried the weight of age and health challenges. Yet, even as I observed her, I could vividly imagine the boundless energy and spirited presence she must have embodied in her younger, more active years. These days, Marcella found comfort at her dining room table, strategically positioned between the bustling kitchen and the tranquil view of the Gulf’s endless blue. She sat within easy reach of the kitchen, a cigarette often in hand, only rising to shuffle towards the walk-in closet, which had been ingeniously converted into a pantry and storage area, whenever I needed a specific ingredient or tool for cooking.

Sensing my reluctance to ask for too much, aware that her movements were labored and required her to temporarily set aside her cigarette, Marcella offered a reassuring smile. “Tell me what you need,” she insisted with a kind but firm voice. “I have many things, just ask. The right tool always makes it easier.” Her words were a testament to her lifelong philosophy in the kitchen: efficiency and the proper equipment are paramount, regardless of one’s physical state. During this special visit, I consciously stepped away from my usual blogger routine of documenting every single moment on camera. My friend Shelisa, who accompanied me, kindly helped capture a few discreet photos, ensuring we respected the Hazans’ privacy. It was, I must admit, one of the hardest things for me to do. In any other scenario, I would have mounted five cameras to the ceiling to record every detail, especially if I happened to do something comically disastrous, like accidentally burning down their kitchen!

Their condo community, I discovered, had strict rules: no BBQ grills, no open gas flames allowed. Knowing they only had an electric stove, I had proactively brought my own portable butane-powered gas stove and wok. Marcella looked at me, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, and said, “Oh, that’s illegal here.” (We used it anyway, of course, but it’s our little secret! Shhhh!)

The Egg Roll Lesson: A Moment of Shared Humanity

Shelisa and I began rolling dozens of egg rolls, standing a couple of feet from Marcella’s seat at the dining room table. Soon, Marcella expressed a desire to learn the technique herself. We promptly set up a wooden TV tray in front of her, and she carefully put down her cigarette, ready to engage. The secret to a perfectly rolled egg roll lies in keeping it tight and even, a skill that requires a bit of practice, even for a culinary master like Marcella. Her first couple of attempts weren’t quite right, and for a split second, I froze. How do you gently correct culinary royalty? Do I subtly re-roll it under the table without her noticing? Do I offer a gentle scolding, much like my own mother would? Or was she, perhaps, testing me, truly knowing how to roll but feigning a challenge?

Taking a deep breath, I decided on a direct yet respectful approach. “Marcella,” I began, “we need to roll them tighter, like a cigarette. Like this…” And just like that, with a simple analogy, she understood. The light clicked in her eyes, and her subsequent egg rolls were perfectly tight and beautifully formed.

We rolled enough egg rolls for our immediate lunch and a generous batch to freeze for another occasion. It was a heartwarming moment, witnessing a legend embrace a new culinary skill with such enthusiasm and humility.

Lunch with Legends: Culinary Insights and Family Banter

Once the four of us sat down for our lunch of freshly fried Egg Rolls and Chinese Sausage Fried Rice, a wealth of new insights unfolded. Like most Italians, Marcella and Victor consider lunch the main meal of the day, the most important one. Victor, in true Italian fashion, opened a bottle of fine wine, and the table was meticulously set for our shared feast. I realized, to my dismay, that I had forgotten to bring a bottle of Chinese Black Vinegar for the egg rolls. For those unfamiliar, the proper way to enjoy an egg roll involves taking a small bite, holding it upright, and then spooning a few drops of Chinese Black Vinegar into the opening, allowing its deep, musky tang to dribble down the inside and infuse the flavors. It adds an incredible depth and dimension to the dish. In a pinch, cheap balsamic vinegar can suffice, but note the emphasis on “cheap” – Chinese Black Vinegar typically costs around $3 a bottle.

How, I wondered, could I ask the Hazans if they had “cheap balsamic”? So, I simply requested balsamic vinegar. Victor, ever the gracious host, returned with a tiny, exquisite bottle of balsamic. Marcella’s gaze shifted between the bottle and me, then she pointed to it, declaring, “You know, this is an $85 bottle, aged 25 years.” This statement instantly sparked a lively debate between Marcella and Victor, conducted entirely in Italian. While I don’t speak the language, the gist was unmistakably clear: Marcella was warning Victor that these “American guests” would use too much of their precious 25-year-aged, $85 balsamic, and it would be utterly wasted on them! Her protective stance over her culinary treasures was both amusing and endearing. They bickered back and forth for a while, and I believe Victor ultimately prevailed, as the precious bottle remained on the table. Very carefully, I opened it, keenly aware of Marcella’s watchful eye. After a quick inspection of the cork, I cleverly declared, “Oh, this balsamic vinegar won’t work well; it’s too thick and sweet!” With that, I sent Victor off to find a more “tart and runny balsamic”—code for the cheap stuff. The strategy worked, and we soon had the appropriate vinegar for our egg rolls, much to my relief and Marcella’s apparent amusement.

Lessons Learned: Beyond the Plate

That afternoon was filled with more than just delicious food; it was a masterclass in culinary wisdom and life philosophy:

• The Truth About Italian Sausage: Marcella passionately explained that authentic Italian sausage contains no fennel. “Why all sausage have fennel? I don’t understand. Italian sausage just simple salt and pepper,” she stated, emphasizing the purity of simple, quality ingredients. This seemingly small detail unveiled a significant regional and traditional distinction often lost in commercial interpretations.
• A Unique Digestivo: While Pamela and I concluded our meal with espresso, Marcella opted for a glass of Gentleman Jack whiskey. “I cannot drink wine anymore, I have a reaction. So I drink whiskey,” she explained matter-of-factly. From Victor, I learned a simple yet profound trick: a tiny pinch of sugar in espresso brings out an astonishing depth of flavor, transforming the coffee experience.
• Mastering the Perfect Rare Steak: Victor shared their secret for preparing a magnificent, thick rare steak. The process began with massaging the steak generously with salt and pepper. It was then placed on a grill, cooked until approximately a quarter-inch of the side was seared, and then flipped to sear the other side similarly. In a separate frying pan, olive oil, garlic, and rosemary were heated until sizzling hot. The grilled steak was then transferred to this aromatic pan, allowed to sizzle briefly on each side, just long enough to coat it with the infused oil, without cooking it further. It was a technique designed to achieve a perfect crust while preserving the steak’s rare interior.

The Enduring Power of Fondness

Yet, the truly life-changing moment for me transcended the culinary lessons. It was a profound lesson in fondness, in the deep, abiding affection that sustains a lifelong partnership. There are days when my husband and I are so consumed by our busy lives that we barely have a chance to meet each other’s gaze. Even when our schedules permit, our focus is often solely on our children. That afternoon, however, I witnessed something truly extraordinary. With every story Victor recounted about Marcella, and every anecdote Marcella shared about Victor, their eyes would meet. For a fleeting moment, their gazes would lock, and they would share a knowing smirk-smile. It was clear that this connection was more than just love; it was 55 years of profound fondness, a tender devotion that had only deepened with time. I find it difficult to articulate in words, but this was the living embodiment of what it truly means to grow old together, forever entwined in love and mutual adoration.

Continuing the Culinary Legacy at Home

As I prepared to leave, Victor, with his characteristic generosity, sent me home with a special package: custom-made Italian sausage crafted for them by Paul Bertolli. This was no ordinary sausage; it was made specifically to Marcella’s specifications – just meat, fat, salt, and pepper, with not a trace of fennel, perfectly embodying her philosophy of simplicity and authenticity.

A few nights later, inspired by my unforgettable visit, we grilled those exquisite sausages. To complete the meal, we prepared Marcella Hazan’s iconic Tomato Sauce with Onion and Butter, a recipe she is world-renowned for. It was, without a doubt, a truly fine meal, a delicious culmination of the wisdom and warmth I had experienced at their home. The recipe for her legendary tomato sauce is remarkably simple, requiring just three core ingredients: butter, onion, and quality tomatoes. It’s a testament to her genius – transforming humble components into something extraordinary.

For those eager to recreate a piece of Marcella’s magic, you can find the detailed Recipe for Marcella Hazan’s Tomato Sauce with Onion and Butter here.