I drag my luggage behind me on the cobblestone street. The Sun is so bright that it hurts my eyes. It's boiling hot. And crowded. I must walk for another half a kilometer. I stop by the duomo. Take a photo of it and continue the journey. I am exhausted, but happy. I was that happy on my 10th birthday when I was gifted desired rollerblades. 

It was not a norm to get what I wanted. The feeling of getting something or achieving something you have really really longed for. 

I have arrived. I am in Florence. I start my training in the art of fresh pasta making at Cordon Bleu here. It starts tomorrow. I am doing what I want. 

It started a few years ago. My unbecoming. 

For a decade I had become someone. I was a communication specialist, a radio broadcaster, a TV show host, a columnist, co-founder, copywriter, brand manager. I was a lot of things, in different fields. 

I had come to London to help a fashion designer with her studio management for a couple of months, until the London Fashion Week.

I always have liked what I have been doing. Very much so. I cared about this work too. But something was missing. I realised I am always working for other people's dreams, not mine. 

One day, a young girl at the studio asked me what I would really want to do in life. Work with food, I said. I care about every tiny detail when it comes to food, whether the pepper is cracked or ground, whole. Roasted, or not. 

Only one thing was clear. I never worked in hospitality. And I couldn't see myself doing it. I cared too much about my lifestyle, income, comfort. I guess, even the status. “What's wrong with her, she is a smart girl,” my friend’s mother asked her when she said I started working in the restaurant. “She could do anything!”

I had walked into Lardo at London Fields the other day. It almost feels like I was pushed to step inside as I didn't decide to do it. I just went in and asked for a job. Matt, the head chef was there and curious enough to allow me to join them.

I spent days with the designer and went to work in the restaurant kitchen in the evenings and on the weekends. I kept it a secret at first.  I wasn't sure how I feel about it. 

“You've got a degree! What are you doing here then! Run,” said the kitchen porter and took casually his shirt off. We exchanged courtesies in the prep kitchen/office/locker room. I churned ice cream in the other corner of the room. “I chose this. I don't need to be here. I want to be here.” 

A few months in, I started professional training at Westminster Kingsway College. 

Within those 2 years, I worked at a restaurant full-time, I discovered my love for pasta and the industry too. I was offered a job at River Café at the beginning of 2020.  I wanted this to be the last destination before I start working on my own brand. All I got there was a week. (A  really good one though). 

So, my pasta escape started. 

I chose pasta because of the message it carries. Pasta knows no barriers of class or wealth. Pasta has been food for peasants. It has been a symbol of luxury. Did Marco Polo bring it from China to Italy with his travels? Or was it the Arabs through whom it arrived in Sicily first? It's interesting to know, but what matters is that a lot of us love it. Though, Italians are eating it 10 times more often than Britons, 23 kg per person in a year. The French and German are the biggest pasta lovers after Italians, with their 8kg. 

One needs no equipment to make some. Just water, wheat, and a bit of time. It can be shaped with perfection. Or with ease. It will be (almost) equally good - depending on the purpose it carries. It can be served simply with olive oil. Or it can carry an exquisite sauce. The options are endless. 

It can be the first course, your main dish, side dish, or even dessert. Name me something else that can serve all these purposes. (Plus the low environmental impact). 

I am coming from both - lack and abundance. We never had much, but what we had was grown by my grandparents. They have been selling the goods on a local farmers’ market for as long as I can remember. I learned from a young age what it means to work on the field - seeding, cultivation, harvest, foraging. 

My journey into pasta-making is the ultimate care for myself and others. Pasta is my way to express the essentialist in me - I am seeking meaning and pleasure in everything I do. 

Darling, it’s me.