From our home, to yours.

Hi, we’re Fabio and Agnes, a Leiths trained cook and a stylist, and the voices behind the Venetian Kitchen.

Who we are

We grew up in the Venice area, Fabio from the mainland, Agnes from the countryside just beyond it. We were surrounded by a varied and beautiful landscape: the lagoon, the plains, the hills, and the mountains we’d visit to ski, hike, or stop and buy cheese and butter from a small farm on the way home. Venice itself was always there: familiar, gorgeous, part of everyday life. For us, it was never a postcard. It was just life.

Twelve years ago, we moved to London, which we also love, and we’ve been here ever since. We are, at heart, deeply crafty people. Fabio trained as a cook and is currently learning pottery; Agnes trained as a stylist and has passions that span stitching, tablescaping, block printing, and interior design. We are always making something with our hands. We are always learning something new. And food, for us, has always been the thread running through everything else — it’s part of who we are, wherever we are.

Fabio teaching at Brixton Windmill
Woman holding a bunch of flowers

In our kitchen, food has always been more than a recipe. It's how we find our way back to ourselves, and to each other.

The story behind the Venetian kitchen

The Venetian Kitchen began in September 2023, but its roots go back further, to a harder time.

During Covid, Fabio was made redundant. Then, after many applications and rejections, he used the last money he had in his bank account to retrain, and finally found a new job in a completely different sector. But before he could even begin, he had to undergo a second open-heart surgery for a congenital condition he’d lived with his whole life. 

The timing meant he was left with no income for months, caught between two worlds with neither to hold onto. Money was tight in a way that was genuinely frightening. Depression followed.

Note: the surgery was also part of something bigger: research into heart valve care for young adults that we hope helps others facing the same path. If that resonates with you, you can read more about Fabio’s story and the research.

At the same time, the surgery had reminded us that life is brief and fragile, and that the things worth holding onto are the ones you choose with intention. Cultivating real passions — the ones that ask something of you, that connect you to other people, that turn ordinary moments into something special — suddenly felt like the whole point.

From difficulty, something new

During that time, cooking became a way through. It was Agnes who suggested they start what was originally a baking blog, together — she had always known how gifted Fabio was in the kitchen, and she wanted to give him somewhere to put that, somewhere he could feel valued and capable again at a moment when so much had been taken away. She supported the recipe development, the writing, the building of something new from a very difficult place. Food, as it always has, became a form of care.

Person grabbing wooden spoon from cutlery holder

Where it all came together

Then came a trip to Scotland. We found ourselves on the Isle of Skye, standing somewhere that held both mountains and sea at once, and something shifted.

We had just bought a little mug from a local potter whose studio was tucked away off the beaten track, the clay pulled from the land around it. It wasn’t just a beautiful object. It was the island, made holdable. And we realised the same was true of the food we’d grown up with — that a recipe is only ever as alive as the ingredients behind it, and the stories they carry. And that those stories, and that food, had carried us too.

We realised we wanted to share those stories. Not just the recipes, but the world they came from — the behind-the-scenes of a Venice and a region that most people never see, beyond the tourist trails, beyond the famous dishes, out into the plains and the villages and the quiet kitchens where our mothers and grandmothers cooked without fuss and with great love.

That is how the Venetian Kitchen was born. A way to stay connected, from far away, to the places and people that made us. And a way to honour that and pass something on.

Some kitchens are just rooms. We like to think that ours carries a landscape.

Tin of tiramisu partially eaten. A large serving spoon is in the tin. On the side a plate with tiramisu on it.
Pan with green beans in garlicky tomato sauce on a wooden chopping board

What the Venetian kitchen is about

Our recipes are rooted in a very specific place — the lagoon, the Veneto plains, the mountain villages we hiked through as children — but the Venetian Kitchen is really about a way of cooking more than a collection of dishes. Unhurried. Seasonal. Attentive to what the land offers and what the moment calls for. And always personal — these are not museum pieces, but living recipes that we cook, adapt, and make our own.

The Veneto region — so much of it unknown, overshadowed by the dazzling fame of Venice itself — gave us an entire world of recipes that never make it into mainstream cookbooks. They live in our mothers’ handwritten notes, in memories of specific Sunday lunches, in the smell of something simmering that immediately takes you somewhere else. Every dish carries a story, and that is what we want to pass on, as much as the recipe itself.

We are here to invite you to slow down, cook with care, and discover that some of the most memorable food comes from the simplest places.

Come cook with us

The Venetian Kitchen is, at heart, about connection — to a place, to a culture, to the people around your table. We’re glad you’re here, and we hope you’ll cook along with us — through our recipes, our classes, and the stories behind every dish.

Fabio and Agnes

 

Note: we are both members of the Venice in Peril Fund, the leading British charity dedicated to safeguarding the rich cultural heritage of Venice, now and for future generations. If you care about Venice as much as we do, we’d love for you to explore their work.