By Thomas Pigeon
It began, as so many extraordinary moments do in Italy, with a simple detour. I was in Greve in Chianti, visiting my friend Count Sebastiani Capponi at Villa Calcinaia. After a wonderful tasting of his Chianti Classico, I wandered into the village in search of a bite. That’s when I quite literally stumbled upon one of Tuscany’s greatest treasures: Antica Macelleria Falorni.
At the entrance, a stuffed wild boar stood sentry—both a wink and a welcome. Inside, the air was perfumed with the earthy scent of aged meat and old wood. Above me, rows of prosciutto glowed amber in the morning light, hanging like sacred relics. Salami looped overhead like festive garlands. This wasn’t just a butcher shop—it felt like a nod to the craft of time.
Founded in 1806 by Lorenzo di Angelo Falorni, this is the oldest butcher shop in Chianti. Two centuries later, it remains a family affair.
Behind the counter, a woman in a pressed apron offered samples of finocchiona and salame al tartufo to passing visitors. Locals came and went like neighbours in a kitchen. And it was here, in the centre of Greve’s triangular piazza, that I had the pleasure of meeting one of the shop’s legends: Stefano Falorni.
Stefano is sharp-eyed, charismatic, and full of the joy that comes from living one’s calling. He greeted me like an old friend, his handshake strong, his smile infectious.
“You smell it, don’t you?” he said, motioning to the hams above. “That’s the perfume of Chianti. There’s no shortcut to excellence. We age things piano piano—slowly.”
The Falorni name has been entwined with the story of Tuscan butchery since the Napoleonic era. Lorenzo di Angelo began it all by converting his osteria into a butcher shop in 1806. His grandson, Giuseppe di Michele, eventually brought the trade to Greve, planting the roots of what would become a global culinary institution.
Through wars, famines, and revolutions in taste, the family’s core values never wavered: respect for land, product, and people. Stefano and his brother Lorenzo—named after their ancestors—were raised among the hanging hams and marble counters. “We learned to walk between sides of beef,” Stefano told me with a chuckle.
But this isn’t just a story of men and meat.
Stefano proudly recounted the story of Caterina Mori, the formidable wife of Lorenzo and grandmother to Ulisse. When her husband passed prematurely, Caterina kept the business alive and even expanded it—crafting soap from pig fat long before sustainability was trendy.
Ulisse, her nephew, helped grow the shop through the 1930s, acquiring adjacent properties and building curing rooms, laying the foundation for the modern enterprise.
By the 1970s, Falorni’s name had reached beyond Tuscany. Their artisanal salumi were making appearances across Italy, and Stefano found kinship with Carlo Petrini, founder of the Slow Food movement. The connection was instant. Both believed in regional traditions, honest ingredients, and resisting the industrial tide.
Stefano joined the Slow Food board, and the butcher shop became one of its beating hearts. “We don’t just feed people,” Stefano told me. “We remind them how to live.”
In one room, a 15th-century stone cave holds wheels of pecorino—some snow-white and young, others golden and aged in hay or ash. Nearby, you’ll find cold cuts from Cinta Senese pigs, their deep flavour the result of heritage breeding and thoughtful care.
The company controls every step of the process—from ethical sourcing to slow curing. They use only natural agents.
“We’re not in a hurry,” Stefano said proudly. “Time is our most important ingredient.”
Today, the original shop has expanded to over 300 square meters—a sensory wonderland of tradition and innovation. Smooth marble counters, antique slicers, bowed wooden shelves—it’s both museum and marketplace.
Stefano invited me behind the counter to try one of the vintage Berkel slicers. As it glided through the prosciutto, rendering paper-thin slices, I was struck by how such a humble task could bring such joy.
In the back, I discovered the family’s enoteca. There, visitors can sample wines from across Chianti, paired with salumi, cheeses, and conserves. I chose a bold Chianti Classico Riserva and tucked a truffle salami under my arm for the road.
Each product is treated with reverence—from the vacuum-sealed travel packs to the generous feasting portions. “We believe in eating less now, but better,” Stefano said. “So everything must be perfect.”
Despite its global reach—Falorni now exports to over 60 countries—the heart of the operation remains in Greve. Stefano and Lorenzo’s children have stepped into leadership roles, ensuring that the shop’s DNA remains intact even as the world changes around it.
In 2011, Antica Macelleria Falorni was named one of the 150 companies that shaped Italian history by the Italian Chamber of Commerce.
For travellers, Falorni is more than a stop on a wine tour—it’s a destination in its own right. A place to taste living history, to meet a family who never lost their way, and to carry home more than food: a philosophy, a flavour, a story.
As I stepped back into Greve’s sunlight, the church bells rang in the distance. My bag was heavy with meats and cheeses, but heavier still with gratitude.
“Chianti,” Stefano had said, “is not something you visit. It’s something you taste—and never forget.” — VV
