“I’LL MAKE YOU A SPRITZ!” SAYS CHEF PATRIZIA, the moment I enter her apartment. I barely have my coat off when this darling sprite-of-a-signora hands me the classic Venetian refreshment: a sparkling glass of Campari mixed with prosecco, garnished with an orange slice. Chef Patrizia, her assistant/translator Silvia, and Lisa, another student, toast: “Cin cin!” The vibe is set for a happy party/cooking class.

School began earlier that morning, when I met assistant Silvia and Lisa at the Rialto market. This bustling spot by the famous bridge has been The Venetian Food Shopping Center since 1097. It’s a great scene of curious tourists like me and natives, strolling through the fish stalls, that glisten with the bounty from the lagoon and beyond—from squirming live crabs, to shrimp, octopus, tiny clams, and sea bream. Next to the fish market are vibrant stands of fruits and vegetables, overflowing with goodies such as bright purple Treviso cabbage and ripe, orange kaki—a variety of persimmon that’s a popular dessert fruit.

With our bags full, we wove through narrow calle, along canals, over little bridges, and past the massive Santa Maria Formosa church. Along the way, Silvia turns out to be an excellent guide—showing me the top cheese shop near the market (“Casa del Parmigiano”), a good pizza place (“Cip Ciap—my husband is Neapolitan and he loves this pizza!), and pointing out the variations in the winged lion sculptures found all over Venice: “If the lion is holding an open book in its paw, that means Venice was at peace, and if the book is closed, it was made when the city-state was at war.”

Finally, we land in front of a palazzo in the Castello sestiere, and zigzag upstairs to Patrizia’s apartment. Patrizia is in her sixties, but has the energy of an eight-year-old girl, flitting around in a black mini-skirt and vest that’s embroidered with flowers, Alpine style. Her airy apartment is decorated with folksy touches: marionettes, framed needlework pieces, and a wood burning stove. Right off the kitchen is a terrace, where students dine in warmer months, enjoying a lovely view, with the steeple of San Marco in the background.

Patrizia typically designs the menu herself, based on what’s in season, but when I booked the class I asked if I could learn to make one of my favorite Venetian specialties: sarde in saor. It’s a traditional dish of fried sardines marinated in onions, vinegar, and sugar, resulting in an intense, savory flavor. Marinating it for at least a few days is essential to the recipe.

Chef Patrizia pulls out a surprise: A sarde in saor she made a few days ago, so I could taste her proper rendition, and then shows me another version she’s made: verdure in saor, where sardines are replaced with sautéed zucchini, potatoes, eggplant, and peppers.

“We make both so you learn, but first we start with my dessert—my invention!” Patrizia says. It’s a brilliant mix of mascarpone, sugar, cocoa, and raisins soaked in grappa (the signature liqueur of the Veneto region). We set it aside to chill in the refrigerator before the Saor lesson begins.

With four of us women in the kitchen plus spritz refills, talk inevitably turns to men and amore, along with lots of laughs.

I get busy gutting sardines and chopping onions, as Patrizia stands by and tells me the sarde in saor story: How it originated centuries ago when fisherman would be at sea for weeks at a time and since there was no refrigeration, fisherman’s wives invented a way of preserving fish so it would last for their husband’s time away from home. In the Renaissance, pine nuts and raisins were added to the recipe, to aid digestion and sweeten the breath.

The kitchen fills with the homey perfume of onions slowly cooking in oil. Patrizia hands me toothpaste to wash my hands, her clever way to take away the fishy smell.

Our work done, we gather at the table set with pretty lace placemats and floral-patterned china. The taste of Patrizia’s pre-prepared sarde in saor is so much richer and more satisfying than the one I just made. We toast with Venetian wine, a lively, white Tocai. The lunch ends sweetly with Patrizia’s dessert invention, then caffe, “corrected,” as the Italians say, with a few drops of grappa.

We linger at the table, in a delightful, well-fed haze, as the afternoon light fades…

Cooking with Chef Patrizia: Contact The International Kitchen (www.theinternationalkitchen.com), a company that offers classes all over Italy.

RECOMMENDED READING

Polpo, A Venetian Cookbook (Of Sorts) by Russell Norman