Born in Mantua (Mantova), in the northern stretch of Lombardy, Emilia was destined to be a pasta legend from the moment she rolled her first sheet of dough at five years old.

Named after the Emilia-Romagna region itself, she carried the responsibility of perfect pasta like it was a birthright. And she delivered.

Her mother, Grazia, taught her how to knead dough with just flour, eggs, and sheer willpower. Her father, Adriano, was a wheat farmer who claimed he could tell the difference between flour types by taste – and weirdly, he could. Every Friday, they’d test the week’s flour batch, and Emilia would adjust her water-to-egg ratio like a mad scientist in an apron.

She didn’t make lasagne the fast way. Oh no. Her fresh lasagne sheets were always rolled by hand, rested under linen, then sliced into perfect rectangles – no frills, no machines. Her secret was to fold the dough five times and let it breathe. And she always used the finest semolina, free range egg, and a wink.

Emilia’s lasagne layers were like edible silk – whisper-thin, elastic, and capable of holding ragu like it was a precious family jewel. When asked how she gets them so perfect, she says:

“A good lasagne sheet is like a good purse – strong, tender, and never soggy.”