Rome: Gelato, Tiramisu & Cannoli Pastry Lab Cooking Class

4.95

(151 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

“Don’t worry if your cannoli looks funny—mine did too the first time,” Chef Matteo grinned at me, dusting his hands off on his apron. I liked him right away. The pastry lab was humming when we walked in—metal bowls clinking, someone laughing near the espresso machine. It’s just a few minutes from Battistini metro but feels like you’ve stepped behind some invisible curtain into Rome’s sweet side. There were seven pastry chefs around, all busy with cakes for someone’s wedding (I caught a glimpse—white roses everywhere), but Matteo and Francesca took us under their wing for our class.

I’d made tiramisu before at home, but never like this. The espresso here is so strong it almost punches you awake, and the mascarpone is silkier than anything I’ve found in London. We dipped ladyfingers together—Matteo showed us how quick you have to be or they’ll get soggy—and then he told us about his grandmother making tiramisu for every birthday. There was Prosecco for us (juice for the kids next to me), and the smell of cocoa powder hung in the air while we layered everything up. My fingers got sticky with ricotta filling when we moved on to cannoli; Francesca laughed when my first one split down the side. “It happens,” she said, handing me another shell.

The best part? We made gelato from scratch—real gelato, not the stuff that melts into soup in two minutes outside. They let us choose toppings from bowls of fruit and chocolate chips lined up along the counter. When we finally sat down together to taste what we’d made, I realized I’d stopped thinking about my phone or what time it was. Just quiet happiness and that cold-sweet bite of pistachio gelato melting on my tongue. They wrapped up our desserts so we could take them away (though honestly half of mine disappeared before we left). I still think about that moment—the way light came through the window and everyone seemed a little proud of what they’d made.