The Italian phrase "La semplicità è l’ultima sofisticazione" translates to "Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." At its core, this timeless wisdom, often attributed to Leonardo da Vinci, reminds us that true elegance lies not in excess, but in refining life down to its essence.
In a world that often equates sophistication with complexity and luxurious items, this philosophy invites us to see beauty in simplicity. It’s about appreciating the small things—a perfectly brewed cup of coffee, a perfectly baked croissant, the warmth of sunlight on your face, a good book or a heartfelt conversation. When we let go of unnecessary clutter, both in our surroundings and in our minds, we open ourselves to experiencing life more fully and meaningfully.
To live by this idea is to focus on what truly matters: authenticity, presence, and quality over quantity. It’s finding joy in the uncomplicated moments and understanding that true sophistication is not about extravagance but about grace, purpose, and intention.
In embracing simplicity, we discover an inner peace and clarity that leads to a more profound connection with ourselves and the world around us. After all, the ultimate elegance is not in what we have, but in how we live and who we are.
All of Venice is tattered, resewn, achingly lovely, and like an enchantress, she disarms me, making off with the very breath of me - Marlena de Blasi
Waking up to my first morning in Porciano, Tuscany feels like stepping into a painting. As the morning light softly filtered through the wooden shutters, I pulled back the lace curtain and opened up the shutters to reveal a view of a moss-covered terracotta tiled rooftop that seemed to whisper stories of centuries past.
Next to my villa was a church, so as I looked over the roof from my window a modest stone bell tower stood gracefully before me, only about 15 metres or so away. The fresh scent of the countryside mingled with the crisp morning air, and the gentle melody of birdsong filled the quiet village. It certainly was a moment where time seemed to stand still, greeting me warmly into a new day and inviting me to savor the beauty of this enchanting corner I find myself within Tuscany.
As I began my day I was deeply inspired by the famous words of Leonardo da Vinci "La semplicità è l’ultima sofisticazione", therefore it was my intention for the day to savour the simple. Here are some of my reflections of how I found beauty throughout my day.
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Waking up in a castle village
I am staying in the tiny village of Porciano, which offers a glimpse into Italy’s rich medieval past, for it is home to the majestic Castello di Porciano, a medieval castle that stands as a symbol of the region's history and beauty. The castle stands proudly on its hill, a timeless guardian of history and stories untold.
There’s an enchanting charm to waking up in a villa that sits just below a castle. Where the air is crisp with the scent of earth and morning dew, and the distant sound of a church bell adds a gentle rhythm to morning. Where birds stir in the nearby olive trees, their song blending with the quiet rustling of leaves. In this serene moment, wrapped in the tranquility of this timeless scene, I can't help but feel connected to a simpler era, as if the castle itself whispers an invitation to slow down, breathe deeply, and embrace the beauty of life in Tuscany.
Morning Tuscan Ritual
My morning in Tuscany begins with a sacred ritual, a gentle unfolding of time in the villa’s sun-dappled courtyard. With the soft rustling of olive trees and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air, I sit at a rustic table with a warm, freshly baked croissant and a coffee. The first sip of rich espresso awakens the senses, and the pages of my journal lie open, inviting me to capture the quiet poetry of this moment. After savoring my coffee and croissant with mindfulness, I spend fifteen minutes practicing Italian, reciting new words as the sun slowly climbs. It’s a ritual of presence and grace, where the day begins with intention and mindfulness.
Exploring Stia
After breakfast I head in with my family to the nearby village of Stia, a quiet village that feels like stepping into a timeless postcard. The cobblestone paths, worn smooth by centuries of footsteps, lead through a labyrinth of rustic stone buildings adorned with climbing ivy, wooden green window shutters, old beautiful doors and wrought-iron balconies. Each corner offers a glimpse of Tuscan life: a local artisan carefully crafting textiles in a small workshop, an elderly couple chatting animatedly outside a café, and the soft aroma of fresh bread wafting from a nearby bakery.
Stia’s main square, with its charming arcades and inviting benches, invite me to pause and savor the moment. As I stroll past old fountains and vibrant flower pots, the village wraps me in its warmth and authenticity, and I can't help but laugh at the four 8-year old boys that smile at me as I walk past them and say "Ciao Bella"
Macchiato
Ordering a macchiato in Italy feels like participating in a quiet love story between time and place. Stepping into a cosy café tucked away on a cobbled street, the gentle murmur of Italian conversations dance in the background as the local men watch some sport on the television. I approach the counter, where a female barista with a kind smile greets me - I am a little excited - for how to order coffee was my Italian lesson that morning.
I order with a little hesitation 3 macchiato's, forgetting the word for 3 I just show three fingers and say "caffè macchiati, per favore.". Savoring the way the words sound as I say this simple phrase, the barista looks at me with a smile and nods "Si" as she carefully pours a velvety shot of espresso, marking it with a delicate splash of milk foam. The 3 macchiatos come to 3 euros - making them so much cheaper than the ones back home in Australia.
Standing at the bar we all take a sip, the world seems to pause—the moment simple yet profound, drinking in the taste, warmth and soul of Italy. It’s in these small, quiet rituals that romance is found, in a perfect macchiato.
Hand-made Pasta
In the heart of a Stia, there’s a charming pasta shop. Stepping inside, the air is filled with the warm, inviting aroma of flour and eggs being lovingly kneaded into dough. Behind a wooden counter, an elderly nonna carefully shapes ribbons of tagliatelle, while trays of delicate ravioli and pillowy gnocchi wait to be taken home for dinner. The shelves are lined with jars of homemade sauces—rich tomato ragù, fragrant pesto, and creamy truffle delights—all crafted to accompany the pasta perfectly.
In this shop, pasta is more than food; it’s a tradition passed down through generations. The art of pasta-making, is a tradition that moves through generations, from mother to daughter or grandmother to granddaughter. This ancient craft demands exceptional manual skill and culinary intuition; where they must be able to determine the perfect dough consistency and adjust flour and water ratios to achieve it. With practiced, rolling hand movements, they knead the dough until it becomes elastic and uniform. When the dough reaches the ideal texture, it is meticulously rolled out using a rolling pin or, for larger quantities, a pasta machine.
What these masterful hands create seems almost magical. From the initial step of rolling out an elastic, nearly transparent sheet of dough, in order to give life to iconic shapes like tagliatelle, pappardelle, fettuccine, linguine, and lasagne. But their expertise doesn’t stop there—they also craft filled delights such as cappelletti, cappellacci, ravioli, agnolotti, and tortellini, all of which encapsulate the flavours of Italy in every bite.
Locals stop by the shop for their favorite varieties, greeting the shopkeepers with familiar smiles and warm conversations. The pride in every strand of spaghetti or delicate tortellini is evident, and for visitors, it’s a taste of authentic Italy. The experience of buying fresh pasta here feels like being invited into an Italian kitchen, where the essence of Italy’s culinary soul is captured in each handmade piece.
Alimentari
Walking into an alimentari in Stia, Tuscany feels like crossing a threshold into the heart of a village’s soul. The ancient stone walls cradle the shop, while beams of golden Tuscan light spill in through small windows, illuminating baskets of ripe tomatoes, lemons and freshly picked basil. The cosy, intimate space is lined with wooden shelves stacked with jars of sun-dried tomatoes, olives, and marinated artichokes, while hanging from the ceiling are strings of salami and garlic.
The rustic shelves are laden with jars of wildflower honey, truffle-infused oils, and wines bearing the names of local vineyards. There’s a hum in the air—a quiet conversation between the shopkeeper and a local, the soft rustle of paper wrapping fresh pecorino, and the earthy scent of olives and local produce.
The shopkeeper, a friendly older gentlemen behind the counter, offers a warm buongiorno [good-morning] as I take in the selection of local wines, homemade pasta, fresh breads and vibrant seasonal produce. It’s a place where the chatter of locals, the tactile experience of choosing the ripest tomatoes, and the rich local flavours waiting to be tasted create a feeling of connection—not just to food, but to the traditions and rhythms of Italian life.
It’s a place where the flavours of the Casentino valley meet the warmth of old-world hospitality, inviting me to savour not just food, but the present moment.
Clementines
Stopping off at the local supermarket I purchased some home-grown rustic clementines. There’s a simple, unspoken romance in the humble beauty of clementines. Their smooth, sun-kissed skin holds the warmth of summer days, glowing with a promise of sweetness. Peeling them, the delicate spray of citrus oils perfume the air, filling the moment with the lightness of a memory. Each segment is a small, bright crescent of joy, bursting with juice that tastes like a stolen kiss, sweet and fleeting. There’s something tender in the way they fit perfectly in your hand, as if made for quiet afternoons and shared moments. Clementines are nature’s little love letters, offering a taste of brightness in the midst of any day, their simplicity a reminder that beauty often lives in the most unassuming places.
Local wine bar
Tucked away alongside a some-what busy road in Stia, a local wine bar offers a quiet retreat where time seems to linger a little longer. The bar is simple and inviting, with worn wooden tables and walls adorned with shelves filled with bottles of rich, local wines, their labels bearing the names of nearby vineyards and promising notes of sun-drenched grapes and Tuscan soil. A corner of the shop is dedicated to fresh produce and artisanal delights: baskets of freshly baked breads, fragrant herbs, handmade pasta, and jars of locally sourced honey, truffles and truffle oil. The air is a blend of fresh earthiness and the subtle scent of aging wood from wine barrels.
But what makes this shop unique is the row of sturdy e-bicycles standing out the back of the shop, ready to be rented by those eager to explore the rolling hills and picturesque countryside of the Casentino Valley. It’s a place where tradition and adventure meet, inviting visitors to savour the flavours of Tuscany and discover its landscapes.
