For entrepreneur and podcast host Pia Baroncini and her Sicilian-born husband Davide, founder of luxury cashmere label Ghiaia Cashmere and Italian food company Baroncini Import & Co, entertaining is not simply about putting on a show – it's about the pleasure of bringing people together.
Rooted in Davide’s Sicilian heritage and a shared appreciation for good food and generous hospitality, their approach to hosting is refreshingly unpretentious. It's about creating a place where everyone feels welcome… and no one wants to leave.
Ahead of World Pasta Day on October 25, we asked the couple to share their experience and wisdom for hosting a pasta-themed gathering.
DAVIDE: For us, pasta has always been about more than what is on the plate. It is more about the people at the table, the drinks being poured, the music playing in the background. There is something wonderfully democratic about pasta: you can serve it to your friends, your children, your parents or your boss, and everyone gets the same bowl – it's not a fuss. It has a way of making everybody equal.
PIA: Davide grew up in Sicily, where hospitality was instilled in him from a young age. I grew up in a house where people were always coming and going, too. Between our families, our friends, our children and our dogs, there is rarely a shortage of people around the house. But Davide is a person who takes an ordinary occasion and makes it feel extraordinary. Even if a friend simply stops by for a coffee, he'll bring it out on a silver tray, with sugar in an antique bowl and sparkling water alongside it. He makes you feel special, even when you're just popping in. It's something we try to carry into everything we do. Our home and our store have a similar feeling: they're extensions of one another, places where people should feel welcomed rather than intimidated.
For me, the secret to being a good host is that sense of generosity, you can have the most beautiful glasses, the perfect tablescape and the best ingredients, but none of that matters if people don't feel comfortable.
PIA: I think the biggest mistake people make when they entertain is starting with the things they want to show off, rather than the feeling they want to create. You can only make somebody feel something if you begin with that intention. Otherwise, you're simply putting things together and hoping they'll add up to something meaningful when it has just come from a Pinterest board.
DAVIDE: When I think about hospitality, I think about my mother. So much of what I know about looking after people came from her. There are these unwritten rules I grew up with, you don't arrive at someone's house empty-handed, in fact you should knock on the door with your feet because your hands are full of everything you're bringing. They're little gestures, but they stay with you.
I also think that the best hospitality isn't necessarily an Italian thing, or even something you can attribute to a particular culture. Most of us, wherever we come from, have childhood memories of gathering around a grandparent's table. It's about the family traditions and the people who teach you how to look after others.
DAVIDE: My mother used to tell me that wherever I went in life, a packet of pasta and a tin of tomatoes would take me a long way. I was the youngest of six, and when I left home, she wanted me to go as far as I could. I eventually moved to New York, where I worked in a corporate office, and inviting colleagues over for pasta became a way of bringing people into my home. I would cook for everybody at once, and suddenly there were no titles or hierarchies. You could have the president of a company sitting in a tiny apartment, eating pasta with everyone else. That is what I love about it, it's approachable, it's generous and it brings people together without making a big fuss.
Pasta is deceptively difficult to get right. Something as simple as pomodoro requires practice, instinct and an understanding of how flavours build. I don't measure everything in the conventional sense. A lot of it comes from experience. Pia can tell when I'm making something well just by looking at the pan.
For a pasta supper, I like to begin with something people can pick up and eat while I cook. A big bowl of fennel, roughly sliced and dressed with lemon, is one of my favourite ways to start. It's fresh, simple and doesn't require anyone to find a plate or sit down immediately. People are always surprised by how delicious something so uncomplicated can be. Then I'll put out prosciutto, cheese, olives and bread. We have a wonderful Italian man in Pasadena who finds us beautiful ingredients, and I love opening the paper they're wrapped in and arranging everything on the kitchen island. I want people to be able to snack while they're watching me cook, rather than feel as though they're waiting for a formal dinner to begin.
DAVIDE: I love the contrast between beautiful objects and very relaxed food. We have china, silverware and linens that have been passed down through our families. Some belonged to grandparents; others came from our parents. We have Royal Copenhagen dishes from my grandmother, alongside pieces collected in Italy. These things carry memories, which is why I care about them.
But I don't believe that using something beautiful means you have to behave formally around it. I'll put bread on the counter, serve ingredients in their wrapping paper and let people gather in the kitchen.
PIA: I always make a big salad, too. It might be lettuce, olives and whatever fresh ingredients we have available. We don't need every element of a meal to be complicated. Often, the simplest things are the ones people remember.
For me, a beautiful table should feel as though it has evolved over time. Our linens have family histories, and our ceramics have been collected rather than bought all at once. I like the idea that the things we use every day can become part of our own family story.
DAVIDE: We do everything with music. Before Pia and I met in person, I made her a video explaining how to make the perfect pasta, and I told her that the first step was to have the right music playing. Our playlists move between Italian music from the Sixties, Seventies, Eighties and Nineties, artists such as Lucio Battisti, and the music we both grew up listening to. Pia's father loved Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin, while Paul Simon and other familiar classics might find their way into the mix. We have songs that remind us of different moments in our relationship, too.
If it's sunny, we'll play something that feels happy, if it's raining, the mood might be different. Music should respond to the atmosphere rather than dictate it. We want people to feel as though they've walked into our lives, not into an event that has been carefully staged for them.
PIA: We don't believe in imposing a signature cocktail on everybody who comes through the door. We leave the bar open and encourage people to drink what they enjoy.
If somebody asks whether they can bring something, I tell them to bring whatever they like to drink themselves. We might open a special bottle of wine when everyone sits down, which is a tradition I remember fondly from my father. He would go down to the basement, choose a bottle and bring it out for the occasion,I love that little ceremony.
PIA: We live in my childhood home, and our house is constantly evolving – it's filled with things that have accumulated over the years, objects with sentimental value and evidence of the people who live here. We have children running around, dogs scratching at doors and friends who have known us for decades. I don't want to live in a house where everyone is frightened of touching something.
We host a Christmas party every year, usually for more than a hundred people. It's one of the most stressful weeks of the year, but also one of the happiest. Everyone seems to find their place, the person who works in music talks to the person who works in film and friends who haven't seen each other for months catch up. At the end of the night, we always feel that it was worth the effort. My mother is still part of that world, too. Recently, she made homemade ice cream and a flourless chocolate cake for a gathering. Before long, the children were running into the garden with bowls of cake and ice cream. Watching her serve everyone was one of those moments that reminds me what hospitality really is. She has spent decades welcoming people into this home, and she still finds joy in doing it now it’s ours.
PIA: When it comes to hosting, my biggest piece of advice is to start small, invite the people you feel most comfortable with, even if it's only two or three friends. Don't feel that you have to make everything from scratch, prepare an elaborate cocktail or lay the perfect table.
If you're not confident in the kitchen, order a pizza and make a salad and concentrate on enjoying the people you've invited. We recently hosted a gathering where I made chilli and ordered pizzas for the children. There's absolutely no reason every part of a meal has to be your own work.
People can sense when you're stressed. If you're so busy trying to make everything perfect that you can't enjoy your own evening, your guests will feel that, too. The most memorable gatherings aren't necessarily the ones with the most elaborate food or the carefully curated decoration.
We never go to bed after a party without cleaning up and clearing the sink. But the best nights we have ever hosted end with us both lying in bed after cleaning up together, smiling, because we are so happy we hosted. Ultimately, we think good hospitality comes down to making people feel that you're happy they've come. Start there, and everything else will follow.
