


It takes courage to cook. I learned this during my experience in the kitchen, first as a young lad with no experience, then as a chef.
Courage is synonymous with a willingness to dare. In a balancing act, technique takes a back seat. Now don’t get me wrong: mastering the technical aspects of cooking is essential to achieve consistently good food. But it’s never the mechanics alone that allow you to reach the level of expression I seek in a recipe.

Today I can say that there is a pinch of art, a pinch of creativity and a pinch of freedom behind every one of my dishes.
If I had to talk to the 16-year-old me, who had just arrived in the kitchen, full of doubts and fears, I would tell him to give himself time. Not to be in such a hurry and not to feel discouraged. I would tell him that he will find his greatest luck outside of a kitchen, and that one day he will have a restaurant of his own.

When my outlook on things changed, so did my understanding of cooking. I matured and as I changed, the vision I had of cooking changed too. We are people who don’t like to appear, preferring to be remembered. What I can do to make my mark is to create emotions with my food.
My “A Occhi Chiusi” menu encapsulates this idea. Winning the trust of those who choose our restaurant with a symphony of flavours orchestrated on the spot, based on diners’ preferences, expertly read by Giada in the dining room. Creating something unique, which changes every night.
This is what cooking is really about for me: cultivating wonder, capturing details, weaving textures of flavour. I have learned to tell stories with my recipes, stories that speak of territory, emotion and fleeting moments of joy.