Fave dei Morti: The Venetian Biscuits of Memory
The sweet taste of remembrance during All Saints’ Day in Venice
Every November, when the mist rolls over the lagoon and the bells of San Michele ring across the water, Venice fills with the scent of almonds, sugar, and memory. In every bakery window appear small, round biscuits called Fave dei Morti — the “beans of the dead.” They are simple, delicate, and deeply symbolic: a bite-sized bridge between the living and those who came before.
🕯️ A Tradition of Remembrance
In Venice, All Saints’ and All Souls’ Days — Ognissanti and Giorno dei Morti — are not mournful occasions. They’re moments of quiet connection. Families visit the island-cemetery of San Michele, bringing flowers, lighting candles, and sharing stories of the departed. And back in the city, the fave appear — humble almond biscuits baked to honour the cycle of life.
The custom reaches back to Roman times, when beans were believed to house the souls of the dead. During ancient funeral rites, they were offered as food for the spirits. Over centuries, those ritual beans transformed into sweet almond biscuits, baked each autumn to celebrate remembrance with warmth instead of sorrow.
As Venetians like to say, “i morti xe vivi finché i se ricorda” — the dead live on as long as they are remembered. The Fave dei Morti are part of that act of remembering.
🏛️ A Church, a Bakery, and a Name
The story of these biscuits is inseparable from the Church of Santa Maria della Fava, a quiet jewel hidden between the Rialto and San Marco. The nickname “della Fava” (“of the bean”) didn’t come from the Virgin Mary, but from a bakery that once stood beside the church and made the best fave in the city. Their scent filled the nearby alleys every 1 November, when Venetians celebrated the saints with prayers — and sweets.
Eventually, the church and the biscuit became linked forever. To this day, Venetians buy or bake fave in three symbolic colours — white for purity, pink for life, and brown for death. Together they represent the eternal rhythm of existence: beginning, being, and beyond.
🍪 What’s Inside — and Why
Originally, Fave dei Morti were made with pine nuts — the luxury ingredient of Renaissance kitchens — ground with sugar and egg whites into a chewy paste. Later, almonds became the standard, their aroma better suited to long keeping. Every region of northern Italy has its version, but the Venetian one remains delicate and perfumed, never overly sweet.
The key ingredients are simple:
- Blanched almonds or pine nuts, finely ground
- Flour and sugar
- Butter and egg yolks
- Lemon zest, a splash of grappa or rum
- A pinch of cinnamon or nutmeg
They are rolled into small ovals — about the size of a bean — and baked until just golden. Their scent fills the kitchen, like a memory reawakening. When cool, they’re soft inside, slightly crisp outside, and perfect with coffee or sweet wine.
The modern version follows the recipe codified by the 19th-century gastronome Pellegrino Artusi in his masterpiece La Scienza in Cucina e l’Arte di Mangiàr Bene. Artusi’s formula has hardly changed in 150 years — a sign of culinary perfection reached long ago.
🧁 Artusi’s Classic Recipe
Ingredients (for about 30 biscuits):
- 200 g (7 oz) blanched almonds
- 200 g (7 oz) sugar
- 2 egg yolks
- 50 g (1 ¾ oz) flour
- 25 g (1 oz) butter
- ½ tsp cinnamon
- Zest of 1 lemon
- A dash of rum or grappa (optional)
Method: Grind the almonds with part of the sugar until fine. Mix in the remaining sugar, yolks, flour, butter, zest, and spice to form a soft dough. Shape into small bean-sized ovals. Arrange on a parchment-lined tray and bake at 160 °C (320 °F) for 15–18 minutes, until pale gold. Cool completely before serving — they firm up as they rest.
They keep for about a week in a tin, though rarely last that long. Venetians often bake them a few days before Ognissanti, ready to share with family and guests returning from San Michele.
🕊️ The Meaning Behind the Sweetness
Eating Fave dei Morti isn’t about indulgence; it’s about gratitude. Each small biscuit honours continuity — a way of saying that sweetness survives even after loss. In Venice, where water and time constantly erase and rebuild, this tradition carries special resonance. The city itself is a remembrance, floating between past and present, between what was and what remains.
That’s why even modern bakeries, surrounded by tourists and espresso machines, still make these ancient biscuits every November. They sell quickly — bought by grandmothers and teenagers alike — because every Venetian knows that memory, like dough, must be kept warm to rise again.
🏺 Where to Find Them
In the days around All Saints’ Day, nearly every pasticceria displays fave by the handful. Some of the finest can be found near Campo San Lio, close to the Church of the Fava where the story began. Others appear in glass jars on marble counters across Cannaregio and Dorsoduro, alongside bottles of grappa and baskets of chestnuts.
Pair them with a glass of sweet Recioto wine or a shot of espresso, and you’ll taste Venice’s November in a single bite — bittersweet, fragrant, enduring.
🧭 Traditions That Still Live
All Saints’ Day is part of a wider season of ritual in the lagoon — from the Festa della Salute later in November to the small family offerings at San Michele. Each festival is a different expression of the same idea: remembrance as celebration.
To explore how Venetians still balance devotion and daily life, read our story on Venetian Festivals and Rituals Through the Year, which reveals how faith, flavour, and community intertwine in this extraordinary city.
🛶 See the City From the Water
For a fresh perspective on Venice — and a perfect companion to this culinary tradition — glide through the lagoon on a private boat tour. Book the Lagoon Tours – Classic Boats Venice and experience the islands, hidden corners, and the calm autumn light where these traditions still breathe.
🌙 The Flavor of Memory
As the night of 1 November falls, the city grows hushed. Candles flicker on windowsills; church bells echo across the lagoon. Somewhere, in a warm kitchen, another tray of Fave dei Morti comes out of the oven — fragrant with almonds and time.
In Venice, even sweetness has a soul. And every autumn, it returns — one biscuit at a time.
