Milan: My Gray Grand Dame Turns Golden

How taking a cooking class transforms a Milan experience

There’s a sensation, a click that happens when my trip to Italy truly begins. It’s not the moment when the plane lands. It’s that click when I first feel the heart and soul of it. The sight of a signora on a bicycle crossing the Arno as I cab into Florence, a church bell ringing in Rome, the pop of a prosecco bottle in my hotel room in Venice. My heart expands in my chest, a calming warmth flows in, La Dolce Vita takes hold of me.

There is no click when the train pulls into Milano Centrale. It’s bone-chilling damp. I rummage…