The Centuries-Old Italian Recipe We Love for Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner

When I visited Felina, Italy, this past summer—the hometown of my great-grandparents—I was reminded that some recipes are not just food, but living traditions. 

In Felina, a tiny village nestled in the foothills of the Apennines, in the northern Italian province of Reggio Emilia, erbazzone, one of my favorite Italian dishes of all, is everywhere: in bakery windows, on trattoria tables beside glasses of Lambrusco, on picnic blankets in the countryside, or tucked into backpacks for mountain hikes.

Erbazzone is deceptively simple: a thin pastry crust filled with Swiss chard (or any other greens you have in your fridge, like turnip greens or spinach), onions, pancetta, sometimes garlic, and a generous amount of Parmigiano Reggiano (another beloved culinary gem of the region). The filling is pressed into the pastry base, covered with another sheet of dough, and sprinkled with lard or pancetta before baking. The result is a savory pie that’s portable, satisfying, and timeless.

Erbazzone Is a Dish That Reflects the Italian Seasons

The dish’s earliest name was “scarpazzone” (or scarpasòun in the Reggio dialect), derived from “scarpa,” the white stalk of the chard that poor peasant families used when leafier greens were scarce. Over time, as substitutions like spinach and other greens became common, the name shifted to “erbazzone,” from “erbe”—Italian for herbs or greens.

Its origins stretch back to the Middle Ages, when peasants relied on foraged herbs to create filling meals for their families. The first printed recipes for erbazzone appeared in regional Emilia-Romagna cookbooks in the 18th and 19th centuries, codifying what had long been a peasant staple into a recognized culinary tradition.

Traditionally, erbazzone was made during the chard harvest, from late June to All Saints’ Day. Outside of that window, families adapted the filling with any other edible greens that managed to forage. Today, bakeries and cafes across Reggio Emilia keep erbazzone in steady rotation year-round. 

“Mountain-style erbazzone” is a sturdier, thicker cousin of the classic pie, born in the Apennine towns of Castelnovo ne’ Monti, Carpineti, and Felina. Here, rice found its way into the dough—an ingenious twist brought back by mountain laborers who had spent seasons in the lowland rice paddies. 

Our family’s erbazzone recipe remains close to the traditional form:

• Swiss chard, boiled and chopped, mixed with sautéed onions.
• Parmigiano Reggiano, grated generously into the greens.
• Pancetta, diced and folded into the filling.
• Homemade pastry, rolled thin, layered beneath and above the filling.

To adapt your erbazzone recipe into the mountain style, mix a handful of cooked rice into the filling along with the greens, which gives the pie extra heartiness, and do not add the final layer of dough on top before baking, as mountain-style erbazzone typically does not have the extra layer of pastry on the top and is an open-faced savory pizza pie. 

Why Erbazzone Endures and Is Still a Family Favorite

With the world’s attention turning toward heritage foods, erbazzone is now being considered for UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage list for 2026. This prestigious recognition would place it alongside other iconic Italian food traditions, such as pizza Napoletana and prosciutto di Parma.

It’s a recipe that has survived centuries, not because it was luxurious, but because it was practical, nourishing, and endlessly adaptable.

In an age of fast food and fleeting culinary trends, erbazzone endures. It’s portable enough for a hike in the Apennines, hearty enough for a family dinner, and comforting enough for breakfast with coffee.  

But more than that, erbazzone is a story. It’s the story of Reggio Emilia’s peasants, who transformed simple ingredients into sublime, satisfying dishes; of families who carried recipes across generations and across the Atlantic Ocean, like my Great-Grandmother did, when she immigrated to the U.S. in the 1920s. 

As UNESCO deliberates, the world may soon discover what my family’s charming ancestral village, Felina, has always known: Erbazzone is not just a savory pie. It’s a centuries-old ritual, a cultural treasure, and a dish worth celebrating—and eating!—any time of the day.