A morning at the stove with the chef, hands in the flour, shaping the day's gnocchi from what the garden gave that week.
The class begins the way the kitchen does, with what is ready that morning. In autumn it is the pumpkins from the garden, roasted and riced, folded into flour and egg until the dough comes together warm under your hands.
There is no hurry to it. Paola shows the roll and the cut, the press of a thumb that gives each gnocchi its ridge, and the long table slowly fills with them, uneven and yours.
It is a morning for grown ups and for small hands, and the children take to it fastest, delighted by the mess. What you shape is what you eat, brought back to the table that evening with sage and the season's first oil.
Ask for it a day ahead, and the kitchen builds the morning around what you would like to learn, the bread, the pasta, the fuži, or the long slow sauce that fills the house with its smell.