Four hours of flour and the best date we've had

My partner and I take one cooking class every trip, and Florence set the bar the rest will be judged against.

The workshop is a proper kitchen near Santo Spirito, eight students max, taught by a chef whose grandmother's rolling pin hangs on the wall like a relic — because it is one. Four hours: egg dough from scratch, pappardelle by knife, ravioli by argument (ours looked like tiny accidents; tasted perfect), and a ragù that had been going since before we arrived.

Then the part that makes it a date: you sit down at a long table with wine and eat everything you made, while the chef tells stories about feeding Florentines for forty years.

€95 each. We've paid more for dinners we remember less. Book the evening slot — it ends as a dinner party.