The primary intention
At 42, my way of cooking has radically changed. I no longer ask, 'Will this dish look good in a photo?' or 'Is this the latest hot trend?'. The only question that now guides my actions is: 'Does what I am going to prepare respect the body of the person who is going to eat it?'. Respect has become my basis, my primary intention. It is a form of responsibility towards oneself and towards others. Cooking is taking care of life, it is offering a gift of vitality and clarity.
Respecting the body means understanding its real needs, its limits and its subtle functioning. It means refusing to impose unnecessary loads on it, sugars which inflame it or volumes which exhaust it. It’s choosing ingredients that speak to it, that support it and that magnify it. This approach changes everything: the choice of products, the cooking techniques, the atmosphere at the table. Cooking becomes a conscious act, a meditation on well-being. It is the transition from consumption to communion.
The silence of the organs
The first sign of respect for the body is easy digestion. A respectful meal should be digestible, energetically useful and leave the mind clear after the meal is over. One should never feel tired, heavy or uncomfortable after eating. On the contrary, we should simply feel 'good'. This is what I call the silence of the organs: this state where the body does its work of transformation without us being aware of it, leaving us all our energy to live, love and create.
To achieve this silence, we must purify. Remove fast carbohydrates which cause hormonal storms, reduce overly complex mixtures which saturate the enzymes, favor gentle cooking which preserves the integrity of the nutrients. It is a cuisine of precision and gentleness. By respecting the rhythm of our metabolism, we allow it to function at its full potential. Health is not a fight against the body, it is an alliance with it. Easy digestion is the basis of this alliance.
Listening to the subtle
The human body is a fragile and subtle thing, despite its apparent robustness. It is a high precision instrument which reacts to the slightest variation in its environment. When we load it too much, when we attack it with unsuitable food, it closes, it protects itself, it bursts into flames. But when we listen to him, when we give him what he really needs, he opens up, he shines, he blossoms. Cooking with respect means learning to listen to this subtle language of sensations and needs.
At 42, I learned that cooking is, above all, about listening. Listen to what the body asks for in each season, in each moment of life. It is not following a rigid rule imposed by fashion, but following an intuition guided by self-knowledge. This listening makes us humble and attentive. It teaches us that we are not the masters of our body, but its devoted servants. By respecting its fragility, we discover its incredible strength. Health is the fruit of this loving attention.
The act of feeding
When I cook like this, with respect and listening, it is a true act of love. Not a sentimental or abstract love, but a true love, embodied in matter. It's wanting the good of others (and your own) through every gesture, every choice of ingredient. It is a form of secular prayer, a celebration of life at its most concrete. To feed someone is to say to them: 'I respect your life, I want your strength, I cherish your presence'. It’s the most beautiful message you can send at the table.
This philosophy transformed my life. I no longer see cooking as a daily chore, but as an opportunity to practice kindness. I feel more connected to others and to nature. My body returns it to me a hundredfold with a vitality and a joy of living that I had never experienced before. Respect is the shortest path to happiness. By respecting my body, I learned to respect all of life. The table is the place of this revelation.
The dignity of the plate
A cuisine that respects the body is a cuisine that honors life. It is a choice of dignity, clarity and love.
I invite you to take this look of respect towards your own diet. Stop wondering what tastes good in the moment, but what is good for your life in the long term. Learn to listen to your body, to cherish its subtlety and to offer it the best. You will see that health is a natural consequence of respect. The table is set, love is served. ¡Buon appetito e viva la vita rispettata!
