Our story
A family kitchen with more chairs
Rosa Marchetti came to London from Abruzzo with a rolling pin in her suitcase. For thirty years she cooked for a house that was never short of guests, and when her children opened Fennel & Fig on Carrow Street they kept her rules: pasta made the same day, sauce that takes its time, and nobody leaves hungry.
Teresa runs the kitchen. Her brother Paolo runs the dining room and the back room, and knows the wine list by heart. Rosa still comes in on Sunday mornings to make the ravioli, and to check on everyone else's.
The name is two things from her garden: wild fennel that grew by the fence and a fig tree that she wrapped in burlap every November so it would survive an Ontario winter. It usually did.
A morning in the kitchen
Before the doors open
Flour and eggs
Double-zero and semolina in a well on the wooden board, local eggs cracked into the middle.
Knead and rest
Ten minutes by hand until the dough is smooth, then it rests under a cloth while the coffee does its job.
Roll and cut
Sheets rolled thin enough to read through, cut into tagliatelle and pappardelle, filled for ravioli.
The sauces go on
Ragù starts its six hours. Tomatoes for the pomodoro are crushed by hand.
Light the oven
Maple and oak, two hours to come up to heat before the first chicken goes in.
Doors open
Whatever pasta is left at close goes home with the staff. Tomorrow we start again.
Who we buy from
Close to home where we can, Italy where we must
- Flour
- Stone-milled flour from a small mill in Ontario, and Italian double-zero and semolina for the pasta.
- Eggs and poultry
- A family farm south of the city, delivered twice a week.
- Vegetables and herbs
- Growers at the market across the county in summer; our own fennel and basil in the back planters.
- From Italy
- San Marzano tomatoes, olive oil from a small press, guanciale and pecorino.
