KITCHENS ARE SILENT PLACES
For six months I've worked for VIVA Restaurant, 1 Star Michelin, as a waitress and as a photographer, and I often found myself enchanted watching the cooks working, always staying out of the kitchen.
I decided to get in, to change my point of view being among them for a few days. And inside there, between a stove and a mixer, observing people whose work is founded on each others' one, I understood that the natural, daily and (today) inflated act of cooking is more human than what we think.
Food is essential and vital. It's not just food. It's a strong bridge that connects so many things. Our tradition to us. Other cultures to us. Our loved ones to us. A parent to his child. A cook to his costumer. It connects people. But it also connects us with ourselves.
Even in one of the best and crowded restaurant in the world, strongly based on human relationships, I found out that the act of cooking is not only sharing with others, but is the quintessence of introspection.
Kitchens are just like us.
They can be shaken by caos, mess, too many people. They need disorder in order to create beauty. They must be animated to get the best out of themselves. But their real nature lies in moments of silence.
