THREE years ago, Jamie Oliver turned 40, and he really "didn't enjoy it much".

The prospect of entering his fifth decade made The Naked Chef more than a little reflective, he admits. Meanwhile, his long-time mentor Gennaro Contaldo - who guided Oliver through his early days at the late Antonio Carluccio's Neal Street Restaurant during the Nineties - was edging towards the big seven-oh.

"He was in a similar but different reflective kind of moment," remembers Oliver. Getting away, escaping for a bit became increasingly appealing to them both. "Me and Gennaro felt we needed that time."

Italy, Contaldo's homeland, became the destination, and the pair spent months travelling from the northern mountains to the southern islands, across the seasons. The result is Oliver's latest cookbook and accompanying Channel 4 series, Jamie Cooks Italy.

It's not just about the duo barrelling around Italy gorging on pasta in an effort to scrub out the years though. Instead, the pair set out to learn from the last generation of Italian 'nonnas', women in their 80s and 90s who "didn't grow up with fridges, freezers, microwaves, gas, electricity - we're talking about old school," notes the Essex-born restaurateur, reverently.

The aim was to capture "a snapshot, a moment, a bit of history", and by meeting the "matriarchs of the best cooking on the planet", help preserve a way of cooking and eating that could cease within a generation. "Every single nonna, without question, was like, 'Share this, get this to as many people as possible – people aren't cooking that in this village anymore'," he continues.

The food is important, but with every encounter, whether it was making orecchiette by hand with nonna Graziella in Puglia, or eating sweet and sour rabbit with nonna Marina in Salina, it increasingly became apparent that Oliver and his crew were working on more than a cookbook, they were making a record of "life and being grateful".

He tells of making tiella, with nonna Linda in Puglia, a baked long grain rice dish bejewelled with tomatoes, courgettes and mussels. "While it's cooking you've got an hour to talk. We're talking about how hard the winters were and life and money and family, and the loss of her husband. Then it was like, 'How many kids have you got?' and she pulls out this jar with a baby in it. It was one that was lost. It takes your breath away," says Oliver, visibly moved.

"It's real, so then the conversation becomes about loss and love," he continues, "but also about the dish. As a parent, food's originally used to nourish your growing baby, and then your child, and then your teenager, and then they leave and you use food to bring them back because you want to see them again. You use it like a magnet - it's quite a fascinating thing."

For Oliver, who worked in the kitchens at the famed River Cafe, Italians and Italian food have always held a certain charm. He blames its winning combination of "high flavour, simplicity and comfort" and it not being "too elegant or over-crafted". Instead of demanding intricately diced vegetables and that you own a sous vide, "there's none of that, it's like, go and find this incredible stuff, get some of that, rip that up, tear that up, bash that, get that in there, drizzle", jabbers Oliver, hands flying. "It's quite an accessible, simple, delicious cuisine."

Most of the nonnas he and Contaldo met were from quite poor backgrounds, "so they were cooking fabulous food with not much resource or money. That's really empowering and really, really inspiring to see," says Oliver, "particularly as - and largely only in Britain - we associate good food, loving food, with being rich. Although it's easy to think that, it couldn't be further from the truth.

"If you say, 'Do you want to go to this Michelin-starred restaurant for dinner, or go to nonna Marina?' I'm with Marina every time."

  • Jamie Cooks Italy by Jamie Oliver, photography by David Loftus (Penguin Random House, £26)

Burrata bruschetta

(Serves 4)

4 white or red chicory

1 head of celery

2 sprigs of fresh rosemary

Olive oil

4 oranges (juiced)

1tbsp runny honey

1tbsp red wine vinegar

4 slices of sourdough bread

1 clove of garlic

Extra virgin olive oil

200g ball of burrata

2 sprigs of fresh flat-leaf parsley

½-1 fresh red chilli (optional)

Sea salt and pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 200oC. Trim the chicory and halve lengthways. Trim the celery and cut 10cm from the base, saving the top half for other cooking, and reserving the inner yellow leaves. Use a speed-peeler to remove the base and stringy outer edges, then slice lengthways 1cm thick. Place the chicory and celery in a roasting tray. Strip in the rosemary leaves, drizzle with a little olive oil, add a pinch of sea salt and black pepper and toss to coat. Roast for 25 minutes.

2. Remove the tray from the oven to a high heat on the hob. Squeeze over the orange juice, drizzle over the honey and vinegar, add a splash of water and bring to the boil. Give it a stir, then carefully transfer back to the oven for a final 10 minutes, or until nice and sticky and the liquid has reduced.

3. Toast the bread, halve the garlic clove and lightly rub the cut sides over the toasts, then place on your plates. Drizzle with a little extra virgin olive oil, then divide and tear over the burrata.

4. Delicately spoon over the roasted chicory and celery, and drizzle over that flavour-packed dressing. Pick over the parsley leaves and reserved celery leaves. Finely slice and scatter over a little chilli before serving, if you like.

Lasagne

(Serves 8-10)

4 large leeks

3 bulbs of fennel

6 cloves of garlic

50g unsalted butter

½ a bunch of fresh thyme (15g)

125ml Soave white wine

75g plain flour

1.5l whole milk

1 whole nutmeg, for grating

50g pecorino or Parmesan cheese

100g Taleggio cheese

400g dried lasagne sheets

125g ball of mozzarella cheese

100g Gorgonzola cheese

Olive oil

Sea salt and black pepper

1. Trim and slice the leeks and fennel, then peel and finely chop the garlic. Melt the butter in a large pan over a medium heat, strip in most of the thyme leaves, then stir in the veg. Season, then fry for 15 minutes, stirring regularly.

2. Pour in the wine, cover, and cook for 30 minutes, or until soft and sweet, stirring regularly and adding splashes of water, if needed.

3. Stir in the flour for a few minutes, then gradually add the milk, a splash at a time, stirring constantly. Simmer until thickened, stirring occasionally. Finely grate in half the nutmeg. Remove from the heat, finely grate in half the pecorino, tear in half the Taleggio, and stir well. Taste and season to perfection with sea salt and black pepper, if needed, and leave to cool.

4. Preheat the oven to 180oC. To assemble, layer up the sauce and pasta sheets in a large baking dish, adding little bombs of mozzarella, Gorgonzola and the remaining Taleggio as you go, finishing with a final layer of sauce. Finely grate over the remaining pecorino and any other bits of cheese, then bake for 40 minutes, or until golden and bubbling.

5. Pick the remaining thyme leaves, toss in a little oil, and scatter over for the last five minutes. Leave to stand for 15 minutes, then dig in.