
There is something quietly civilised about a meal that arrives all at once, arranged rather than plated, with no last-minute panic at the hob. Antipasti in Italy is technically a starter, but nothing stops you making it supper. For two people it is the ideal format: one board, one glass of something cold, one loaf of good bread, and a conversation that drifts.
It also happens to be the most forgiving kind of cooking there is. Almost everything can be bought, and the small amount of work involved — marinating a bowl of courgette, tearing a ball of mozzarella, warming the bread — happens at a leisurely pace, ideally with a glass in hand. Build it well and it feels like a holiday; build it carelessly and it is just a plate of cold cuts.
Think of the board as four corners rather than a list of nice things. Each corner does a job, and the balance between them is what makes it sing.
For two people, aim for roughly 70–90g of cured meat each, 60–80g of cheese, three or four vegetable components, and one or two sweet accents. That is a light supper with bread, or a generous starter if something follows it.
Variety matters less than contrast. Three well-chosen meats will always beat a crowded fan of eight. A good trio for two: something silky and sweet such as a 24-month prosciutto, something spiced and aromatic like finocchiona with its fennel seeds, and something leaner such as bresaola, dressed at home with a squeeze of lemon, a slick of olive oil and black pepper.
Ask the deli counter to slice thin — paper-thin for prosciutto, a touch thicker for coppa or speck — and always let the meat come up to room temperature for twenty minutes before serving. Cold fat tastes of nothing; at room temperature the same slice becomes fragrant and sweet. Drape rather than stack, and if you are buying pre-sliced, ask for it cut to order rather than reaching for the vacuum-packed tray.
This is where a decent board is won or lost. Italian cooking has an entire shelf of antidotes to richness — sott'olio vegetables, giardiniera, marinated artichokes, roasted peppers, olives of every size and colour. Buy a few, but make one yourself; it takes ten minutes and tastes far better than anything jarred.
The marinade is the same every time: three parts good olive oil to one part acid — lemon juice or red wine vinegar — with a good pinch of sea salt, a crushed clove of garlic and a soft herb. Pour it over grilled courgette, roasted aubergine, blanched green beans or thin shavings of fennel, and leave for at least thirty minutes, ideally overnight in the fridge. Bring back to room temperature before serving.
One warm element lifts the whole plate. Pan-fry a few slices of aubergine or char some peppers and serve them just warm with a spoonful of the marinade over the top.
Choose two cheeses at most: one soft and milky, one firm and salty. Torn buffalo mozzarella or a spoonable burrata alongside a wedge of pecorino is a perfect pairing, especially with a drizzle of honey over the sheep's cheese. A little blue, such as a soft gorgonzola, works beautifully with a pear or a few grapes.
Bread is not an afterthought. Focaccia, warmed ciabatta, sourdough sliced thick and griddled in olive oil, or a bundle of grissini for scooping. Add one sweet note — a spoonful of mostarda, a little fig jam, a drizzle of chestnut honey, a square of dark chocolate with hazelnuts — and the board is complete.
An antipasti board is a seasonal creature. In spring, lean on broad beans, young pecorino and asparagus dressed with lemon. In high summer, tomatoes, basil, torn mozzarella and grilled peaches. Autumn brings mushrooms preserved in oil, walnuts, roasted squash and aged cheese. Winter is the time for the heavier cured meats, radicchio, oily olives and something braised alongside.
For wine, keep it simple and serve it at the right temperature — whites at 8–10°C, lighter reds at a cool 16°C rather than a stuffy room temperature. A crisp white such as Verdicchio or Vermentino handles vegetables and mozzarella best. For a board built around cured meat, reach for a bright Sangiovese or a lighter Barbera. A dry sparkling wine, poured into proper glasses rather than flutes, will carry you through the whole thing beautifully.
Set it all out on a wooden board, put the bread in the middle, and let the two of you pick at it slowly. That, more than any recipe, is the Italian way.
Hi, my name is Anthony kuber. I am artist and fashion designer.
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