In a dish of pasta, how vital is the act of mastication to you? Is it merely a matter of texture, or can it ascend to become a medium through which the dish narrates its story?

For me, mastication in a dish of pasta is of paramount importance. First and foremost, it reveals the chosen shape; yet, beyond the geometry of the form, it frequently speaks of the technique bestowed upon the preparation.
It can most certainly become a vessel for narrating the creation. I think, for instance, of a pasta we have recently perfected: a dough crafted with a significant lipid component which, prior to cooking—almost cold—evokes in certain aspects a shortcrust pastry. During its manipulation, one already senses tactilely that something transcendent is about to unfold.
Indeed, once cooked, the bite is profoundly transformed: it becomes almost callose, singular. It is fascinating because, given the substantial presence of fat, the gluten network struggles to form, and this is directly reflected in the final consistency. Even in its presentation at the table, this becomes a narrative element.

Your culinary art is rooted in Umbria, yet it never seeks facile folklore. When you work with pasta, do you feel a stronger bond to the terroir or to the abstract concept of the dish?

It is difficult to untangle the two. I begin with the land and the poetry of the seasons. In the beginning, when the restaurant had just opened, this bond with the terroir might have seemed almost restrictive: by choice, for example, we do not employ saltwater fish, so a vast spectrum of ingredients remains, of necessity, divorced from our craft.
Yet, as so often occurs, "obstacles" serve to foster a more profound creativity. We begin with the fruits of the land, and from that origin, we unfurl the concept of the dish. The terroir, therefore, is no sterile constraint: it is the fertile genesis, that which allows the culinary idea to germinate.

In pasta, technique, pleasure, and identity coexist. Which of these facets is the most delicate to maintain in perfect equilibrium?

Without doubt, identity. I believe that for any restaurant, this is the most arduous element to maintain constant and luminously visible.
Creativity, inspirations, and the evolution of dishes are the very lifeblood of our work. We, for instance, alter our menu quite frequently, approximately twice a season. When one transforms so many creations, however, preserving a recognizable identity naturally becomes more complex.
And yet, identity is the ultimate virtue: in a regional or national landscape, it is that which distinguishes you, that which allows the establishment to be recognized and, consequently, to endure in harmony.

You have crafted a fresh pasta wherein the fat content does not derive from the egg yolk, but rather from pralines and pastes of dried fruits or seeds. What inspired this noble choice?

Yes, we eschew olive oil in favor of refined pralines: pastes of dried fruits, such as almonds, hazelnuts, and walnuts, or seed pastes, such as sesame or pumpkin seeds.
We substitute the yolk, retaining the white and infusing this rich fatty component directly into the heart of the dough. Our objective is to saturate the dough as thoroughly as possible, achieving a pronounced flavor dwelling within the pasta itself.
This path was born somewhat by chance. I had sourced some fresh green chickpeas and was pondering a distinct interpretation of pasta e ceci. I drifted toward the aromatic warmth of hummus, as I deeply enjoy Working with spices. From that reverie came the inspiration to introduce tahini into the dough, embedding the soul of sesame directly within the wheat. Then, from that initial intuition, we blossomed into other variations.

When modifying a structure as sacred and classic as egg pasta, what is most vital to preserve: memory, texture, flavor, or the ancestral gesture?

Should one succeed, it is sublime to weave all these elements together. Yet, unmistakably, the gesture is what most preserves our orientation.
When embarking upon the novel, there is always an unknown: the risk of failure, of an idea collapsing. Relying upon the gesture, the manual artistry of shaping the pasta, becomes essential. Technique, in this light, acts as a guardian: it permits you to dare, whilst remaining anchored in profound, tangible heritage.

For you, is pasta primarily a foundation upon which to construct the dish, a medium to be sculpted, or a language that inherently guides the recipe of its own accord?

Undoubtedly, the shape, or even the mere concept of a pasta, inherently guides the destiny of the recipe. The pasta can be the genesis from which the entire dish unfurls.

Is there a particular shape or preparation of pasta that feels singularly resonant with your sensibilities as a chef?

I would say the stuffed tagliatella. It is a creation born of an artifact discovered in a market: a rolling pin with very narrow grooves. There was a detail that did not function flawlessly, so I had it refined by a master turner.
From that tool, the restaurant's inaugural pasta dish was born: a tagliatella with truffle, offered in harmony with the season. The truffle, instead of being shaved atop, was enshrined within the tagliatella itself.
The dish presented itself almost naked, graced only by a whisper of almond milk. The entire essence of the tuber was safeguarded inside the pasta. We rolled two gossamer sheets of dough, then with a piping bag, drew delicate lines of truffle cream, blanketed them with the second sheet, and, by virtue of that grooved rolling pin, segmented the tagliatelle.
They were then hand-cut with a knife and sealed. In essence, each tagliatella was a miniature raviolo: oblong and ethereal. For me, it beautifully embodies the path I have chosen and my philosophy of gastronomy and terroir.

Your cuisine pursues concentration, purity, and the absolute clarity of taste. In a pasta dish, how do you sustain this rigorous technique without diminishing the immediate, visceral pleasure of eating?

I am captivated by the concentration of flavors within every element present upon the plate.
I delight in the fact that, even in a pasta dish, the individual bites—the forkfuls, the spoonfuls—are not identical, yet they invariably guide the palate to the intended flavor profile. Pleasure must remain sovereign, yet I am drawn to a certain heterogeneity of textures, for within the feast, I believe a playful, ludic element should always reside.
A carbonara, for instance, offers almost the identical bite from beginning to end; the same may be said of a pasta al pomodoro. If, conversely, there are five or six elements distributed harmoniously across the plate, each forkful can reveal itself as slightly distinct, whilst upholding a final, transcendent harmony. This, to me, is of utmost importance: to remain forever within the sacred boundaries of culinary pleasure.

How profound is the dialogue with artisanal micro-producers and local ingredients in the creation of your pasta dishes?

It is of extraordinary consequence. As I have noted, the true protagonists of our plates are always the raw materials of our terroir. This aspect is fundamental.
The collaboration with these guardians of the land, their devotion to crafting what they produce for us, is of vital essence. Possessing a deliberately curbed palette of ingredients, nurturing these relationships helps us elevate our standards and maintain an untarnished consistency. Crucially, without these artisans, we could never bring our visions to life.

Looking to the future, how do you envision the evolution of signature pasta in Italy? More minimalist, more radical, more intellectual, or perhaps closer to its origins?

I perceive a movement toward a more essential pasta, stripped of superfluous ornament, focusing instead on a higher concentration of pure flavors. I believe there will be a burgeoning devotion to texture, to the bite, and to the structural integrity of the pasta itself.
I also foresee significant exploration surrounding cold pastas, cooking methods, and avant-garde techniques. In my estimation, this is the destination: the bite, the architecture, and the essence of concentrated taste.