The containers I actually reach for. Glass with bamboo-rimmed lids no plastic, no smells, no stains. The base is oven and freezer safe, so leftover ragù goes from fridge to oven without a second dish to wash.

Three sizes, three soft colours, all nesting together like they were meant to. Beautiful enough to bring to the table with a salad, sturdy enough to whip cream in for years.

You need a good ring tin in your life. Mine has been through countless baba, savarin and Sunday cakes without warping or flaking, and this one is built to last just as long.

Three sizes because you never know when the crowd will grow. Cheesecakes lift out cleanly, quiches slide out whole — and the smallest one is perfect for those weeknights when it's just the two of us.

Hair out of the flour, hair out of the sauce. Twelve of them means there's always a clean one somewhere in the kitchen drawer.

The wider ones I wear when I'm properly getting into a bake. Soft ribbed cotton, neutral colours that go with anything, and they stay put even when I'm bent over the stone.

The one appliance I couldn't live without. Soups, sauces, pesto, whipped cream — it does the lot, and the little chopper bowl saves pulling out the food processor for every small job.

Pans without handles sound strange until you try it. They stack flat, they fit in the oven without a fuss, and the ceramic surface is a dream to cook eggs and delicate fish on. Thirteen pieces covers everything from a quick pasta to a slow Sunday braise.

My love letter to baking — over 120 recipes from crusty sourdough loaves to jam-filled cornetti to the plum and red wine upside-down cake that started it all. More than 50 of them are gluten-free or vegan.

This one took me home. Back to Abruzzo, Marche and Molise — the villages of my childhood, the family I grew up with, and the recipes that come from a handful of good ingredients and generations of doing it the same way.

Everything I want you to know about Italian home cooking, in 100 recipes. Which pasta shape goes with which sauce, how to get gnocchi soft every single time, and the antipasti spreads that turn a normal evening into something to remember.

100 recipes made from the humblest of ingredients — end-of-summer tomatoes, salty anchovies, oozy burrata. This is how Italians actually eat at home, with silky handmade noodles, savoury ricotta pies, and ossobuco melting into saffron risotto.

For the weeknights, the school lunches, the 'what am I cooking tonight?' moments. 85 recipes with the meal-planning tricks generations of thrifty nonnas pass down — cook once, eat twice, and always leave the table happy.