GIANLUCA GORINI
Where the forest becomes a musical score
1983
Pesaro
Territorial - Instinctive
GIANLUCA GORINI
Where the forest becomes a musical score
1983
Pesaro
Territorial - Instinctive
GIANLUCA GORINI
Where the forest becomes a musical score
1983
Pesaro
Territorial - Instinctive
CURRICULUM VITAE
Born in Pesaro in 1983, Gianluca Gorini chose San Piero in Bagno, in the very heart of the Romagna Apennines, to establish daGorini together with Sara Silvani, crafting his culinary art around a sanctuary, its bounties, and the souls who inhabit it. The restaurant opened its doors in September 2017.
Prior to this homecoming, his path wound through some of the most illustrious kitchens of the Italian landscape: a graduate of the Hotel School of Pesaro, he labored first in Romagna alongside Paolo Teverini in Bagno di Romagna; he then journeyed to London, joining the brigade of Monsieur Max, a temple of French gastronomy guided by Alex Bentley. Upon his return to Italy, from 2008 to 2012, he worked alongside Paolo Lopriore at Il Canto of the Certosa di Maggiano in Siena: this communion with the master would prove defining in the shaping of his gastronomic philosophy.
There followed, in 2012, an epoch at Borgo San Felice with Francesco Bracali, before assuming, in 2013, the mantle of chef at Le Giare in Montiano. Here he remained for four years, refining a personal vernacular destined to culminate, in 2017, in the birth of daGorini.
The landscape of the Tuscan-Romagna Apennines, at the threshold of the Casentinesi Forests, nourishes his vision: wild herbs, forgotten fruits, game, and the fruits of the soil find their way into a repertoire that harmonizes with the seasons and is enriched through dialogue with growers, artisans, and foragers. These relationships animate the life of the restaurant and its evolution, bringing ancient wisdom, custom, and new possibilities into the kitchen.
From this proximity blossoms a deeply personal and contemporary vernacular, wherein the pursuit of the essential, instinct, and memory guide the hand upon the raw ingredient. Gorini interprets the offerings of the land, exploring their potential and presenting them through dishes that retain a sacred, recognizable bond with their origins. Tradition becomes a vessel for reflection; creativity finds its measure in a profound sensitivity toward the ingredient. The absolute centrality of local, seasonal ingredients and the dialogue between heritage and avant-garde exploration are the enduring motifs of his cuisine.
The forest and the mountain thus weave themselves into the creative process: they govern the rhythm, bestow their distinctive timbre, whisper pairings, and guide each choice. Every menu captures a singular moment of this communion, translating into gastronomy the very soul of a place and the gaze of him who has chosen to dwell within it.
dialogues
You were born in Pesaro, and today you cook in the very heart of the Romagna Apennines. How deeply have these two distinct geographies shaped your dialogue with pasta?
They have been foundational; after all, we reside in the cradle of fresh pasta, crafted of egg and flour.
You have spoken of the memory of fresh pasta handmade by your mother and grandmother. How much of that intimate domestic ritual still endures within the chef you have become?
Rather than a mere physical gesture, I would say it was paramount for my sensory palate. A product fashioned with such exquisite devotion naturally harbors unique depths.
Your time with Paolo Lopriore profoundly marked your culinary philosophy. What essence of that masterclass do we find today in your conception of a first course?
The raviolo, for instance, is born from a poetic inversion of the traditional archetype: that which usually lies within is brought outside, whilst that which normally cloaks the exterior is cradled deep inside. It is a simple gesture, yet capable of generating a novel and unexpected marvel. What the experience with Lopriore ultimately left me with is precisely this: learning never to linger upon surface appearances. To inquire, to question what we know, and to seek new horizons is, I believe, an indispensable condition for the contemporary chef.
Bitterness, acidity, fermentations, and the embers of the hearth are recurring motifs in your sensory language. Is pasta, by its reassuring and familiar nature, a particularly seductive canvas for you precisely because it allows you to lead the diner beyond their comfort zone?
Most assuredly. Pasta is a vessel that allows us to explore infinite symphonies, venturing far beyond the most familiar and well-trodden harmonies. I think, for example, of the gentian spaghetto, which we present as a pre-dessert.
In the Fusilloni, fish soup, clams, nori seaweed, and sea fennel, the dry pasta form enters an intricate, thalassic architecture. How do you select a dry pasta, and what role must it perform, beyond merely cradling the sauce?
I am deeply captivated by the architecture of the shape and the specific texture it imparts to the bite. Mastication is a true vehicle of gustatory intensity. For this reason, the choice of shape transcends its ability to catch the condiment. Each form can perform a distinct role, relative to the depth and nature of the sensation we desire to convey.
In the Tortelli filled with zucchini, squacquerone, sesame paste, and dark beer, acidity, roasted notes, vegetable sweetness, and bitter tones coexist. When you construct a stuffed pasta, does the filling germinate first, or is it the overall harmony of the bite?
The final equilibrium is ever the axis upon which all must revolve. It is, principally, a matter of delicate dosage. Myriad flavors may live together, provided they are in perfect accord.
The Tagliatelle of wild mushrooms, cypress, cream, and wood-fired ham seems to evoke the very landscape of the Apennines through forest floor aromas, whispers of resin, and traces of smoke. Can pasta also become a vessel to narrate a territory without resorting to its most commonplace representation?
It must be!
Fresh pasta and dry pasta demand entirely different rituals and contemplations. Which of the two grants you the greater expressive freedom today?
In truth, I find immense expressive liberty in both, yet by virtue of my heritage and "tradition," I believe fresh pasta is that which allows me to delve deepest into gustatory possibilities. It can be envisioned as an envelope, enclosing within it nuances entirely its own.
If you had to choose a single pasta shape capable of narrating the soul of Gianluca Gorini, what would it be and why?
Likely penne, because I devoured so much of it as a child. Prepared "all'arrabbiata," it remains one of my most cherished dishes.
After years in which haute cuisine often relegated pasta to the periphery, there seems to be a new dawn of appreciation today. Where do you believe pasta can journey in the future of fine dining?
It will be the task of us chefs to narrate and elevate an ingredient so central to our gastronomic identity. The world envies us for it; we should realize it is a precious element that defines us, and tell its story with pride. I am endeavoring to do just that.
CURRICULUM VITAE
Born in Pesaro in 1983, Gianluca Gorini chose San Piero in Bagno, in the very heart of the Romagna Apennines, to establish daGorini together with Sara Silvani, crafting his culinary art around a sanctuary, its bounties, and the souls who inhabit it. The restaurant opened its doors in September 2017.
Prior to this homecoming, his path wound through some of the most illustrious kitchens of the Italian landscape: a graduate of the Hotel School of Pesaro, he labored first in Romagna alongside Paolo Teverini in Bagno di Romagna; he then journeyed to London, joining the brigade of Monsieur Max, a temple of French gastronomy guided by Alex Bentley. Upon his return to Italy, from 2008 to 2012, he worked alongside Paolo Lopriore at Il Canto of the Certosa di Maggiano in Siena: this communion with the master would prove defining in the shaping of his gastronomic philosophy.
There followed, in 2012, an epoch at Borgo San Felice with Francesco Bracali, before assuming, in 2013, the mantle of chef at Le Giare in Montiano. Here he remained for four years, refining a personal vernacular destined to culminate, in 2017, in the birth of daGorini.
The landscape of the Tuscan-Romagna Apennines, at the threshold of the Casentinesi Forests, nourishes his vision: wild herbs, forgotten fruits, game, and the fruits of the soil find their way into a repertoire that harmonizes with the seasons and is enriched through dialogue with growers, artisans, and foragers. These relationships animate the life of the restaurant and its evolution, bringing ancient wisdom, custom, and new possibilities into the kitchen.
From this proximity blossoms a deeply personal and contemporary vernacular, wherein the pursuit of the essential, instinct, and memory guide the hand upon the raw ingredient. Gorini interprets the offerings of the land, exploring their potential and presenting them through dishes that retain a sacred, recognizable bond with their origins. Tradition becomes a vessel for reflection; creativity finds its measure in a profound sensitivity toward the ingredient. The absolute centrality of local, seasonal ingredients and the dialogue between heritage and avant-garde exploration are the enduring motifs of his cuisine.
The forest and the mountain thus weave themselves into the creative process: they govern the rhythm, bestow their distinctive timbre, whisper pairings, and guide each choice. Every menu captures a singular moment of this communion, translating into gastronomy the very soul of a place and the gaze of him who has chosen to dwell within it.
dialogues
You were born in Pesaro, and today you cook in the very heart of the Romagna Apennines. How deeply have these two distinct geographies shaped your dialogue with pasta?
They have been foundational; after all, we reside in the cradle of fresh pasta, crafted of egg and flour.
You have spoken of the memory of fresh pasta handmade by your mother and grandmother. How much of that intimate domestic ritual still endures within the chef you have become?
Rather than a mere physical gesture, I would say it was paramount for my sensory palate. A product fashioned with such exquisite devotion naturally harbors unique depths.
Your time with Paolo Lopriore profoundly marked your culinary philosophy. What essence of that masterclass do we find today in your conception of a first course?
The raviolo, for instance, is born from a poetic inversion of the traditional archetype: that which usually lies within is brought outside, whilst that which normally cloaks the exterior is cradled deep inside. It is a simple gesture, yet capable of generating a novel and unexpected marvel. What the experience with Lopriore ultimately left me with is precisely this: learning never to linger upon surface appearances. To inquire, to question what we know, and to seek new horizons is, I believe, an indispensable condition for the contemporary chef.
Bitterness, acidity, fermentations, and the embers of the hearth are recurring motifs in your sensory language. Is pasta, by its reassuring and familiar nature, a particularly seductive canvas for you precisely because it allows you to lead the diner beyond their comfort zone?
Most assuredly. Pasta is a vessel that allows us to explore infinite symphonies, venturing far beyond the most familiar and well-trodden harmonies. I think, for example, of the gentian spaghetto, which we present as a pre-dessert.
In the Fusilloni, fish soup, clams, nori seaweed, and sea fennel, the dry pasta form enters an intricate, thalassic architecture. How do you select a dry pasta, and what role must it perform, beyond merely cradling the sauce?
I am deeply captivated by the architecture of the shape and the specific texture it imparts to the bite. Mastication is a true vehicle of gustatory intensity. For this reason, the choice of shape transcends its ability to catch the condiment. Each form can perform a distinct role, relative to the depth and nature of the sensation we desire to convey.
In the Tortelli filled with zucchini, squacquerone, sesame paste, and dark beer, acidity, roasted notes, vegetable sweetness, and bitter tones coexist. When you construct a stuffed pasta, does the filling germinate first, or is it the overall harmony of the bite?
The final equilibrium is ever the axis upon which all must revolve. It is, principally, a matter of delicate dosage. Myriad flavors may live together, provided they are in perfect accord.
The Tagliatelle of wild mushrooms, cypress, cream, and wood-fired ham seems to evoke the very landscape of the Apennines through forest floor aromas, whispers of resin, and traces of smoke. Can pasta also become a vessel to narrate a territory without resorting to its most commonplace representation?
It must be!
Fresh pasta and dry pasta demand entirely different rituals and contemplations. Which of the two grants you the greater expressive freedom today?
In truth, I find immense expressive liberty in both, yet by virtue of my heritage and "tradition," I believe fresh pasta is that which allows me to delve deepest into gustatory possibilities. It can be envisioned as an envelope, enclosing within it nuances entirely its own.
If you had to choose a single pasta shape capable of narrating the soul of Gianluca Gorini, what would it be and why?
Likely penne, because I devoured so much of it as a child. Prepared "all'arrabbiata," it remains one of my most cherished dishes.
After years in which haute cuisine often relegated pasta to the periphery, there seems to be a new dawn of appreciation today. Where do you believe pasta can journey in the future of fine dining?
It will be the task of us chefs to narrate and elevate an ingredient so central to our gastronomic identity. The world envies us for it; we should realize it is a precious element that defines us, and tell its story with pride. I am endeavoring to do just that.
CURRICULUM VITAE
Born in Pesaro in 1983, Gianluca Gorini chose San Piero in Bagno, in the very heart of the Romagna Apennines, to establish daGorini together with Sara Silvani, crafting his culinary art around a sanctuary, its bounties, and the souls who inhabit it. The restaurant opened its doors in September 2017.
Prior to this homecoming, his path wound through some of the most illustrious kitchens of the Italian landscape: a graduate of the Hotel School of Pesaro, he labored first in Romagna alongside Paolo Teverini in Bagno di Romagna; he then journeyed to London, joining the brigade of Monsieur Max, a temple of French gastronomy guided by Alex Bentley. Upon his return to Italy, from 2008 to 2012, he worked alongside Paolo Lopriore at Il Canto of the Certosa di Maggiano in Siena: this communion with the master would prove defining in the shaping of his gastronomic philosophy.
There followed, in 2012, an epoch at Borgo San Felice with Francesco Bracali, before assuming, in 2013, the mantle of chef at Le Giare in Montiano. Here he remained for four years, refining a personal vernacular destined to culminate, in 2017, in the birth of daGorini.
The landscape of the Tuscan-Romagna Apennines, at the threshold of the Casentinesi Forests, nourishes his vision: wild herbs, forgotten fruits, game, and the fruits of the soil find their way into a repertoire that harmonizes with the seasons and is enriched through dialogue with growers, artisans, and foragers. These relationships animate the life of the restaurant and its evolution, bringing ancient wisdom, custom, and new possibilities into the kitchen.
From this proximity blossoms a deeply personal and contemporary vernacular, wherein the pursuit of the essential, instinct, and memory guide the hand upon the raw ingredient. Gorini interprets the offerings of the land, exploring their potential and presenting them through dishes that retain a sacred, recognizable bond with their origins. Tradition becomes a vessel for reflection; creativity finds its measure in a profound sensitivity toward the ingredient. The absolute centrality of local, seasonal ingredients and the dialogue between heritage and avant-garde exploration are the enduring motifs of his cuisine.
The forest and the mountain thus weave themselves into the creative process: they govern the rhythm, bestow their distinctive timbre, whisper pairings, and guide each choice. Every menu captures a singular moment of this communion, translating into gastronomy the very soul of a place and the gaze of him who has chosen to dwell within it.
dialogues
You were born in Pesaro, and today you cook in the very heart of the Romagna Apennines. How deeply have these two distinct geographies shaped your dialogue with pasta?
They have been foundational; after all, we reside in the cradle of fresh pasta, crafted of egg and flour.
You have spoken of the memory of fresh pasta handmade by your mother and grandmother. How much of that intimate domestic ritual still endures within the chef you have become?
Rather than a mere physical gesture, I would say it was paramount for my sensory palate. A product fashioned with such exquisite devotion naturally harbors unique depths.
Your time with Paolo Lopriore profoundly marked your culinary philosophy. What essence of that masterclass do we find today in your conception of a first course?
The raviolo, for instance, is born from a poetic inversion of the traditional archetype: that which usually lies within is brought outside, whilst that which normally cloaks the exterior is cradled deep inside. It is a simple gesture, yet capable of generating a novel and unexpected marvel. What the experience with Lopriore ultimately left me with is precisely this: learning never to linger upon surface appearances. To inquire, to question what we know, and to seek new horizons is, I believe, an indispensable condition for the contemporary chef.
Bitterness, acidity, fermentations, and the embers of the hearth are recurring motifs in your sensory language. Is pasta, by its reassuring and familiar nature, a particularly seductive canvas for you precisely because it allows you to lead the diner beyond their comfort zone?
Most assuredly. Pasta is a vessel that allows us to explore infinite symphonies, venturing far beyond the most familiar and well-trodden harmonies. I think, for example, of the gentian spaghetto, which we present as a pre-dessert.
In the Fusilloni, fish soup, clams, nori seaweed, and sea fennel, the dry pasta form enters an intricate, thalassic architecture. How do you select a dry pasta, and what role must it perform, beyond merely cradling the sauce?
I am deeply captivated by the architecture of the shape and the specific texture it imparts to the bite. Mastication is a true vehicle of gustatory intensity. For this reason, the choice of shape transcends its ability to catch the condiment. Each form can perform a distinct role, relative to the depth and nature of the sensation we desire to convey.
In the Tortelli filled with zucchini, squacquerone, sesame paste, and dark beer, acidity, roasted notes, vegetable sweetness, and bitter tones coexist. When you construct a stuffed pasta, does the filling germinate first, or is it the overall harmony of the bite?
The final equilibrium is ever the axis upon which all must revolve. It is, principally, a matter of delicate dosage. Myriad flavors may live together, provided they are in perfect accord.
The Tagliatelle of wild mushrooms, cypress, cream, and wood-fired ham seems to evoke the very landscape of the Apennines through forest floor aromas, whispers of resin, and traces of smoke. Can pasta also become a vessel to narrate a territory without resorting to its most commonplace representation?
It must be!
Fresh pasta and dry pasta demand entirely different rituals and contemplations. Which of the two grants you the greater expressive freedom today?
In truth, I find immense expressive liberty in both, yet by virtue of my heritage and "tradition," I believe fresh pasta is that which allows me to delve deepest into gustatory possibilities. It can be envisioned as an envelope, enclosing within it nuances entirely its own.
If you had to choose a single pasta shape capable of narrating the soul of Gianluca Gorini, what would it be and why?
Likely penne, because I devoured so much of it as a child. Prepared "all'arrabbiata," it remains one of my most cherished dishes.
After years in which haute cuisine often relegated pasta to the periphery, there seems to be a new dawn of appreciation today. Where do you believe pasta can journey in the future of fine dining?
It will be the task of us chefs to narrate and elevate an ingredient so central to our gastronomic identity. The world envies us for it; we should realize it is a precious element that defines us, and tell its story with pride. I am endeavoring to do just that.