I started making fresh pasta during the first lockdown in 2020, after being rather unceremoniously ejected from London into a sleepy village in Dorset.
Through the lockdowns, fresh pasta became a Sunday ritual. When I moved from the shared house on Brick Lane into a more grown-up apartment in Canonbury, I loved spending weekends making pasta and learning more about seasonal eating.
Then, after a calamitous year of break-ups and breakdowns, I found myself booking a one-way flight to Italy.
In February 2026, I followed my heart (and appetite) to Italy.
Today, I live in a beloved red villa deep in the Ligurian mountains, drawing on local recipes, regenerative practices and herbology to steward a nearby plot of land in an olive grove.
Ultimately, Nipotina was birthed from a love for eating with the seasons, a passion for pleasure, and an ancient re-remembering of life’s magic.
She is a love letter to all the women and nonnas that have come before, a bridge between the old and new, and a treasure trove of regional pasta recipes passed down through the generations.
I’m so glad you’re here.
Nipotina, [/ni.poˈti.na/] –
meaning granddaughter in Italian
About
Buon appetito!
Pasta Nipotina
Emma