How a Broken Mug Led Mike to Deruta

Grazie mille to Mike Perri, Paradiso Ceramics customer and fan, who wrote this blog for us ...

Two Aussies in Deruta

Deruta—famous the world over as the home of Italian ceramics.

And yet, on this, our third long-stay sojourn to Italy, we visited Deruta for the very first time. Yes, the first time.

Truth be told, we probably wouldn’t have gone at all had I not broken a mug.

Not just any mug, but one of a cherished pair that had been with us for years. They were the anchors of our morning coffee ritual. When one shattered, the ritual itself suddenly felt at risk. A desperate search for an exact replacement followed. Sadly, none could be found.

Eventually, we settled on a new pair—Orvieto-themed. A good choice, as Orvieto had been our base back in 2007, and we loved it. The mugs arrived safely and quickly found their place in our daily routine. One day, almost absent-mindedly, I turned one over and noticed the mark underneath.

Made in Deruta.

It had never really registered before. This time, it did.

And so the journey began.

In the lead-up to this latest trip, I mentioned to Marg Anderson of Paradiso Ceramics that a visit to Deruta was high on our list—and that we were keen to learn more about the town and the craft of Italian ceramics. Marg’s response was immediate and generous. Not quite “your wish is my command,” but very much, “your wish is my pleasure.”

What followed was a guided tour through the stages of ceramic production—and it was, quite simply, wonderful.

We met Gabriela and Carlo and their team of skilled artisans at Favaroni Carlo, each bringing a quiet mastery to their part of the process. Watching a pot emerge from wet clay on the wheel was absorbing enough.

But then came the pattern-making, the careful preparation of surfaces, the stenciling of designs, and finally the fine brushwork applied directly onto baked clay coated with white liquid glaze.

That last stage held us. The steadiness of the hands. The economy of movement. The way colour appeared, stroke by stroke, as if it had always been waiting there. It was the sort of work you could watch for hours. And we nearly did.

All in all, a true highlight of this trip.

If there’s a moral to the story, it might be this: every object has a longer life than we usually notice. Sometimes it takes breaking something familiar to discover where it really comes from. And if you feel the urge to begin your own Italian ceramics journey, I can recommend Deruta wholeheartedly—though ideally without smashing a prized mug to get you started.