Refinement in the kitchen is found in the ability to achieve synthesis and simplicity through the chef’s hands. Nearly 2000 years ago, Seneca argued that when recipes were not "corrupted by the demands of pleasure," the human body was healthier and stronger; however, with the introduction of infinite sauces and seasonings, "what was food for hungry diners became a burden for satiated stomachs." Maestro Marchesi, through his process of subtraction, also demonstrated how the key to appreciating the true flavor of a pigeon breast was to separate it from its sauce. In my experience, it is through the recovery of essentiality and the enhancement of the natural taste of raw ingredients that the art of cooking reaches its highest expression.
In recent years, over 75% of the world's biodiversity has been lost. Today, more than ever, it is necessary to safeguard the excellence of a territory as rich as Italy. Beginning with the pleasure of shopping at the market and valuing small local producers, it is possible to consume seasonal (and therefore sustainable) ingredients, respecting the rhythms of nature and honoring our land. Since 2013, I have worked with forty different suppliers across the country, who guarantee the freshness and quality of ingredients based on seasonal availability. Furthermore, in my kitchen, I do not use any fish that is not of Mediterranean origin: anchovies and mackerel, for example, are nutritious, wild-caught, and beneficial for both health and flavor.
Picasso once said he spent a lifetime learning to draw like a child, translating a natural and emotional technique onto the canvas. For a chef, creating a dish by recognizing only the law of balance imposed by nature embodies the same thought; it is the secret to charting the path of cuisine in the near future. As Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, painter and gastronomy lover, maintained, to become "chefs without prejudice," one must recognize nature as the primary rule.
I like to think that once the techniques and foundations of traditional cuisine are perfectly mastered, the time comes to set them aside to move forward, because tradition does not mean simply re-enacting the past; rather, it is the common root of two Italian verbs, tradurre (translate) and tradire (betray). To translate the past into the future, one must betray it: to borrow the words of Toulouse-Lautrec, this is not done out of ignorance or negligence, but to evolve knowledge and reach a new awareness. Since 2013, my approach to Italian cuisine has taken regional recipes and restored them, lightening and simplifying each dish to be appreciated by contemporary palates. In this way, traditional recipes come back to life in a healthy and light form, reaching a high gastronomic standard.
The promotion of Italian regionalization is the new frontier of cooking. No other place in the world can boast our biodiversity in terms of recipes, as every region, city, and even small village has its own unique ingredients and preparations. We are studied by everyone, and for this reason, we must become aware of the enormous potential of our territory and of the culinary history that traces its roots back to Ancient Rome, when colatura di alici (an amber liquid extracted from salted anchovies) was first known as Garum. Today, we are influenced by cultures far from our own that stimulate us to learn new techniques and flavors, yet we cannot forget the immense value of a Sicilian, Tuscan, Abruzzese, or Milanese dish. In a few years, this focus on regionalization will represent the norm for us.
I am deeply attached to a phrase that Maestro Marchesi often repeated to me, as sharing in the kitchen represents a "whole." This journey begins with the training and work of the chef and continues until the moment a dish arrives at the table, the most convivial place that exists. This philosophy manifests in advice given in the kitchen, in observing the work of colleagues, or in the direct relationship with guests, from whom nothing should be hidden. In my restaurant, the kitchen is open-view and my team works with maximum transparency, with no barriers separating them from the dining room.
For me, the Italian regional cookbook is a constant source of inspiration, and I love it particularly for one reason: it contains no images. The recipes are described through texts that leave room for my imagination and do not tempt me toward any kind of imitation. In my view, a chef must use the brain and not the eyes to train for what is beautiful and good, rather than copying a recipe seen in a book or in some gourmet restaurant. Reading with the mind is essential to consistently express one's own personality by following three fundamental steps: reflecting, reasoning, and transmitting.