Season and Balance: The Soul of Flavor

Cooking became important to me during my first long trip to Paris. I grew up knowing real Italian food—no thanks to my Italian mom, who disliked cooking—but Paris showed me a different way to live. At the time, there were butchers, bakers, and pâtisseries on every other block. On their way home from the metro, people would stop to pick up just what they needed for the evening—fresh bread, unprocessed meats, and beautiful pastries. No preservatives, no freezers, just good, fresh food.

The only gym in Paris back then was at the Ritz, but the French didn’t need gyms. They stayed slim without trying, simply by living differently. That trip taught me that food wasn’t the problem—it was how we approached it. I wanted to bring that mindset home: fresh, simple, and intentional.

My talent for cooking isn’t just about putting the right ingredients in the right amounts in a pot—it’s about tasting and adjusting until a dish feels “right.” I’ve been lucky enough to eat some of the finest food in the world, and those experiences shape how I cook. I still remember the first time I had Eggs Benedict in a puff pastry at a French-fusion spot in Chelsea called Man Ray. It was so good, every detail of that place and that bite stays with me. I’ve spent decades trying to replicate it, chasing that perfect balance of flavors.

Balance is the heart of great cooking. Most dishes come down to the interplay of two or three key flavors, and when you nail it, everything clicks. Seasoning is where instinct meets practice—taste as you go, adjust as needed, trust your palate to guide you, or ask Rio and she will tell you it needs more salt. When it works, it’s not just food; it’s a memory in the making.

Fresh ingredients are where It all begins

Every great dish starts with what’s fresh. A sun-ripened peach, a sprig of fragrant basil, or fresh triple ground veal—these aren’t just ingredients; they’re inspiration. Freshness is what gives food its soul, grounding it in the moment and reminding us of the beauty of simple things.

But even the freshest ingredients need solid reinforcements. A drizzle of the right olive oil can make a dish sublime. I spent years finding the perfect olive oil, which turned out to be the one they use in every dish at Eataly, one that never turns bitter or separates. There’s 17 kinds of salt, the right sprinkle of flaky salt and 21 types of vinegar, or a splash of vinegar takes those seasonal flavors and makes them work. Together, fresh ingredients and quality, refreshed pantry staples create harmony—the kind of alchemy that transforms food into magic.

Presentation, a feast for every sense

Food isn’t just about taste; it’s about the whole experience. The colors, the textures, the way it’s plated—all of it tells a story. Presentation isn’t about perfection; it’s about care. A twice baked potato is not complete without the paprika. A scattering of herbs or a drizzle of sauce says, “This is made with love and care.” Consider the amount of times you’ve stared at a restaurant dish and determined how good it would be before you took a bite. For the same reason the best art in the world has frames, beautiful food, at nice tables in great settings is inherently better.  invites people in before they even take a bite.

Timing is everything

Timing is the quiet hero of every meal. Hot dishes should be hot, cold dishes should be cold, and every bite should arrive at its peak, preferably at the same time. This isn’t just about logistics; it’s about care. When you serve something at its best—Eggs Benedict or Bananas Foster perfectly timed—you’re saying, “I want you to enjoy this exactly as it should be.” In our house, food doesn’t wait for formality; it’s meant to be eaten when it’s ready.