Storia

Before the train whistle.
Santa Maria degli Angeli and the age of horses.
To understand the Piatto, you have to close your eyes and imagine Santa Maria degli Angeli without cars and the train station as we know it today. You have to go back to the mid-19th century. Our land was a dusty and vibrant crossroads. The economic life of the hamlet revolved around the post station. Here, the stagecoaches traveling between Florence and Rome stopped. Weary travelers disembarked, sought refreshment at the inns, but above all, it was the place where they "changed horses."
The horse was not a pet or a sport: it was the engine of the economy. The horsemen, the blacksmiths, the innkeepers, the coachmen: entire families of Santa Maria degli Angeli lived thanks to the strength of these animals. The square was not a parking lot, but a vibrant place of exchanges, smells, hay, and toil. Without the horses, Santa Maria degli Angeli would have come to a halt. And it was precisely in this context, where survival depended on the health of the stables, that the unthinkable happened.

1860 and the birth of the Vow.
From fear to Grace.
It was the year 1860 (or thereabouts, as the elders say). An unnatural silence fell over the stables. A serious die-off, a sudden and violent epidemic, began to strike the horses at the Post Station. The animals died, and with them, the hope of bread for the Angelese families. The science of the time had no answers.
The community, in despair, did the only thing left: they turned to Heaven. They invoked Saint Anthony the Abbot, the Egyptian hermit saint, long the protector of domestic animals. It wasn't just any prayer; it was a solemn pact, a Vow. "If you save our horses, we will honor your name by feeding the poor." The die-off ended. The miracle had happened. But a miracle, in Santa Maria degli Angeli, isn't paid for with gold. It's paid for with solidarity. Thus was born the "Festa del Piatto": a lunch offered to the local poor to thank the Saint for saving the town's economy.

The Plate of Providence.
Ingredients of a centuries-old history.
What, really, is the "Piatto"? If we look at the ceramic plate, we see robust food. But if we look with the eyes of history, we see generosity. The menu is the same as it once was, designed to provide calories and strength to those suffering from true hunger:
• Macaroni (Rigatoni): topped with a rich sauce.
• Meat: sausages, meatballs, beef, and pork. A luxury for the time.
• Bread and Wine: the foundation of the Christian table.
• Fruit: apples and oranges, the scent of celebration.

Eating the Piatto today means sitting at the table of those first Angelans. It is both a secular and religious rite. Religious because it stems from a vow; secular because it unites everyone, rich and poor, young and old, in a single banquet where social differences vanish before a plate of steaming rigatoni.

We, Priori Servants.
The honor of "Rimettirci" (To lose).
Why are we called "Priori Servants"? The key word is not Priors, but Servants. Wearing the felucca or the sash, carrying the banner, is not an exercise in vanity. We are the temporary custodians of a flame that has burned for over 160 years. Being a Prior means sacrificing time, energy, and personal resources. There is an ancient saying among us: "Being a Prior always means losing."
And yet, it is a "to lose" that enriches. The Priorship is a school of life. We learn to work together, to manage the unexpected, to smile while serving hundreds of people at the table. Each year, a new Priory takes over the baton from the previous one, like an endless relay. We of 2027 are just a link in this chain, firmly attached to those who were there before 1860 and those who will come after us.