Modena sits at the centre of the most food-dense territory in Italy. Within thirty kilometres of the city you will find the acetaie where traditional balsamic vinegar ages for decades, the dairies where Parmigiano Reggiano wheels are turned and inspected every day, and the curing rooms where culatello and Prosciutto di Parma hang in the

Tortellini in brodo is the dish Bologna takes most seriously. Not the ragù, not the lasagne — the small, navel-shaped pasta ring floating in a clear capon broth, made by hand, sealed with a filling of pork loin, prosciutto, mortadella, Parmigiano Reggiano, and nutmeg. It is served at every important occasion in Bologna: Christmas, New

Bologna has a serious gelato culture. This should not be surprising in a city that applies the same standards to every food it produces — quality ingredients, traditional methods, no shortcuts — but it is worth saying plainly for visitors who might assume that gelato is gelato wherever you find it. It is not. The

Passatelli in brodo is one of the dishes that visitors to Bologna most consistently overlook. It does not appear on tourist menus. It is not photogenic in the way that a plate of tagliatelle al ragù is photogenic. It is a winter soup — short cylinders of a paste made from breadcrumbs, Parmigiano Reggiano, eggs,

Ask for spaghetti bolognese in Bologna and you will not find it on any menu. You will probably get a polite correction instead. The dish that has become one of the most cooked pasta recipes in the world — a staple of British Sunday evenings, Australian family dinners, and American weeknight cooking — does not