“How do you make them all the same size and shape?” I ask the master glassmaker. “I just know,” he answers. “I’ve been doing this for the past thirty years. My partner also needs to get his part right, because if he hands me just two grams more glass, it won’t turn out.” We’re at Collevilca, a crystal factory in the industrial area of Colle val d’Elsa, and I’ve just watched a molten blob become the finest of wine glasses in a choreographed three-man process that takes just a few minutes.
Colle val d’Elsa, a town in Tuscany, still likes to call itself “the Bohemia of Italy,” a nickname given to it in 1934 by Filippo Tommaso Marinetti, the founder of Futurism. They cite the fact that they once produced 95% of all the crystal in Italy and 14% of the crystal in Europe. It’s probably still more or less true, just that the volume of crystal that represents is much diminished.
Once the heart of the wedding registries, but now eschewed by many couples, perhaps the one place we still use this type of highly transparent glass is in top tier wine goblets. I went to Colle to learn more about their crystal production and to experience a meal at one restaurant that honours it and promotes it: Barbagianni.
A short history of crystal in Colle val d’Elsa
There are traces of glass production in Tuscany from Etruscan times; in the Middle Ages, certain shapes and types of containers developed to support agriculture, like flasks for wine. In the Renaissance, the val d’Elsa sees the creation of glass for optical reasons in a method developed by Galileo Galilei, and later the integration of lead to make heavy, decorative and often coloured crystal.
Industry in Colle was helped by natural and political factors. Glass production grew here thanks to abundant woods that provided material for molds and fodder for fires that need to reach about 1000 degrees to make glass. And then came the Medici. In 1577 the Grand Duke banned the importation of glass from outside of the Florentine dominion, and the court became an important client for the fantastic creations by artists like Jacopo Ligozzi.
After a decline in the 19th century, Colle played a role in the economic boom of 1960s Italy, combining design and productive technology in a way that met the needs of the time – think heavy lead crystal tumblers and ice buckets à-la-Mad Men. The decades to follow, however, saw a decline of crystal producers.
We hear the same refrain from factory owners in other industries. “My children don’t even want to consider it,” says Giampiero Brogi, speaking of the continuation of Collevilca, the factory that rose under his father and uncle. He explains that there is no longer a market for the kind of handmade, artistic crystal they’re specialised in. “Once, the wedding registries kept us in business, but now people don’t want things, they just collect funds for a trip,” he reflects. “Once we developed our own designs, now we produce almost exclusively for others,” he laments. Though there is still a market for their work: he shows me unique glass sculptures made for an art gallery under specific direction of the artist, and delicate coloured vessels being produced in a small batch for an exclusive fashion house (the product and the name are protected by a non-disclosure agreement, of course).
In the city’s Museo del Cristallo, I watch video testimonials from others in Giampiero’s generation. Other kids who grew up in the ’70s and ’80s, watching their parents work hard, getting up at 4am. One woman says her father was uniquely focused on work and admits to “kind of hating the factory for this, for the fact that we couldn’t just go out on a Sunday, we had to stop by to check if everything was okay for the next day’s production.” If the previous generation could be molded, so to speak, to take over despite some antagonism, lured by economic gain or a sense of duty, Colle’s latest generation isn’t convinced. And their parents tend to agree. Giampiero tells me he has a ten year plan. If there’s no market for Italian handmade crystal, his factory will not continue after his retirement. The same can be said for the textile and clothing factories of Prato or the historic shops and artisan workshops in Florence that we see closing. Social change and globalisation are killing hard work. AI won’t make crystal glasses, we simply won’t use them.
In the city center, a future in the culinary arts
I leave Collevilca with mixed feelings. Honoured to have witnessed the skilled glass artisans at work, saddened by the thought that there is little future for their art. I began the uphill trek to Colle Alta, the town’s historical center, where the restaurant Barbagianni is my destination. The road is part of the Via Francigena – I follow a sign that says I’m headed to Canterbury – and it’s paved with terracotta bricks smoothed by centuries of feet and decades of traffic. The town is not exactly buzzing. A couple of French tourists and a lone motorcyclist, helmet in hand, read signs and enter the Cathedral with me. Our rubber soles squeak on the polished marble.
“Concrete Block renders homage to the ability of material that, from simplicity becomes noble through work, love and care.”
I step into the Palazzo Pretorio, the city hall and archaeological museum whose ground floor housed prison cells, now turned into a creepy yet fascinating contemporary art display. In the courtyard there’s a sculpture by Sol Lewitt – a conceptual piece with the original title of “Concrete Block”. Its shape reflects that of the city and its medieval towers. The explanatory text says that it “renders homage to the ability of material that, from simplicity becomes noble through work, love and care.” I think of the humble silica and minerals transformed into delicate crystal vessels by the glass blower, and of vegetables and herbs becoming edible art through the creativity of a great chef. My stomach rumbles.
Entering Barbagianni, I am greeted by Alessandro Rossi, the chef who earned his first Michelin star at only 24 years old. Having previously acted as consulting chef for this intimate restaurant in Colle val d’Elsa, the news broke just the day before that he would be taking over the reins in person, kicking off with a brand new tasting menu that I would be one of the first to try. In Colle, he’d be just steps away from his vegetable garden, and the owners of the restaurant, Gruppo Elite, have given him the freedom to do his own thing in a new gourmet destination in the area, set to open in 2027.
Colle val d’Elsa is no stranger to high gastronomy. Chef Gaetano Trovato’s Arnolfo Ristorante has two Michelin stars, having evolved from the family’s Tuscan restaurant into a gourmet offering in the 1980s; recently they moved to a new building that seems carved out of the hillside, its mouth a huge window that enhances the dining experience. With the move, the old home of Arnolfo made way for Bis, Trovato’s more accessible eatery that I spotted on my walk around town. With the attractivity of exceptional food, Colle becomes a home base for gastro-tourists to explore the Chianti Classico region. Arnolfo offers a few rooms in its historic palazzo, and other boutique residences have popped up, including three from the group that owns Barbagianni, who also owns other restaurants, ranging from an enoteca to a pizzeria. This is not a town for mass tourism; rather, it’s perfect for a long and drawn out multi-course meal, thoughtful browsing of the city’s small but rich museums, and taking in the view.
Coddled by grey-blue walls and a full size tree inside Barbagianni, the crystal theme is immediately apparent: a large stained glass on one wall, glass sculptures (of the mascot barn owl, the restaurant’s name) and vases dot surfaces, and the names on the menu recall the phases of glassworking – soffio, molatura, trasparenza. Here, the aesthetics of crystal become touch and taste; I am served a welcome bollicina in a handmade glass like the one I witnessed being made an hour earlier at Collevilca.
The chef tells me he “does Tuscan cooking” but don’t be fooled, you’re not getting a plate of tagliatelle al cinghiale here. Rather, he blends ingredients from Maremma, Lunigiana and other areas – both land and sea – with those from his own biodynamic vegetable garden in Colle, a small version of which is located just steps away, on the city’s Medieval walls. Rossi has his own concept of local: he uses ingredients that are grown or sourced nearby, but not always are they typically Tuscan. He’s been experimenting a lot in the garden, finding out what will grow from seed in our climate, making it possible to offer exotic herbs, vegetables or fruits without the carbon footprint.
Case in point, the tartare of trout from the Lunigiana, with its own eggs and in broth from its bones – a sustainable practise – topped with delicate daikon flowers, a root vegetable that is more Asian than Tuscan. Seasonal steamed asaparagus from Maremma play with the textures of crunchy grassworts and soft sea lettuce, an algae that gives the dish a unique Japanese flavour but that comes from the Mediterranean.
The chef has accommodated my dietary needs with a pescatarian menu that regales bursts of flavour to the point that it’s hard to pinpoint a favourite dish. The Pacchero Livornese may be the winner though – al dente pasta rings stuffed with creamy baccalà and topped with a reduction of cacciucco. Delicious on its own, enhanced by the creative wine pairing from Campania, an aged Lacryma christi chosen by sommelier Valerio di Nuzzo, who scopes out revitalised vines and forgotten flavours with passion and memory that allow him to suggest combinations like this. Di Nuzzo confesses a wide range of passions that include kombucha, cocktails and tea, all of which may appear in the proposed pairings.
A sense of humour, childhood memories and a studied “casual” approach characterise the menu, staff and experience at Barbagianni. I’m served pane e prosciutto, a finger food and snack for most Italian kids; at dessert, there’s marshmallows that explode in your mouth and a fun take on commercial ice cream cones.
Colle val d’Elsa has been a discovery. Of flavours, of creativity, of the people that bring simple ingredients to life through the Renaissance concept of ingegno – that innate, creative genius. Perhaps this ingegno has fermented with another kind of genius, the genius loci or “spirit of place” that must be strong in Colle. Entrepreneurship, creativity and handiwork may take many forms, of which I’ve witnessed two today.
Address book: Where to eat, what to do in Colle val d’Elsa
Gourmet Restaurant: Barbagianni, via Gracco del Secco, 86. Reservations recommended. *invited
Historic Hotel: Relais della Rovere, a 4* Papal esate outside of the city.
Civic Museums:
- Museo Archeologico Ranuccio Bianchi Bandinelli, piazza Duomo 42 (including free contemporary art space).
- Museo del Cristallo, in a new space, presents the history of crystal production in Colle with interesting videos and displays. Via dei Fossi 8a.
Crystal manufacturers:
- Collevilca artistic crystal manufacturer offers factory tours at a nominal fee, upon reservation here. A small factory store and selection of “seconds” make it possible to make purchases on site. Strada Comunale, Località S. Marziale.
- RCR is the largest producer of crystal in Colle, known for its many lines of glasses for any liquid. They have a factory store in the industrial area at Località Catarelli.
