S.P.: Thank you so much for agreeing to this interview, even with your busy schedule. Let’s start with something light but often controversial! As an Italian Michelin-starred chef, we’d like to ask you about a topic that sometimes sparks lively discussions on social media, even here in Poland: what are your thoughts on pineapple pizza? 😉
A.A.: Pineapple on pizza? You know, in Italy, it’s a big scandal, but then Italians eat sushi with mayonnaise. And if you go to Japan, no one would serve sushi with mayo or Philadelphia cream cheese, so why should Italians treat pineapple on pizza as a scandal? Everyone can put what they like on their pizza. Personally, I prefer a classic Margherita or Prosciutto Funghi, but if there’s nothing else to eat and someone serves me pineapple pizza, I’ll eat it, you know?
S.P.: There’s a pizzeria in Gdańsk that only serves pineapple pizza on Children’s Day.
A.A.: That’s interesting! But you know, for example, in England, a well-known chef made paella with chorizo, and it caused a scandal. Meanwhile, in South America, chorizo paella is common. For a Spaniard, it’s a catastrophe, but I think if someone wants to add chorizo to their paella, then let them—simple as that.

S.P.: Thanks for your honest answer. Maybe this will finally end the long debate about pineapple on pizza. Tell us a bit about yourself—what was your professional journey before starting at Arco?
A.A.: A lot has happened. I started at 14, attending culinary school and working in a pizzeria in Germignaga, my hometown by the lake in northern Italy. But my dream was Spain, where Ferran Adrià was revolutionizing cuisine. I was fascinated by molecular, avant-garde, futuristic cooking. Thanks to the owner of the pizzeria where I worked, I got an internship at Miramar with Paco Pérez, who had just earned a Michelin star. He gave me work, food, and a place to stay—a room in a hotel. The internship was supposed to last six months, but I ended up staying for over a decade.
After years of working with him, Paco offered me the position of head chef, which was a dream come true. I spent my last two years managing Terra by Paco Pérez, and during that time, we earned a Michelin star—my first—when I was only 30. I also worked at El Bulli with Ferran Adrià, at Azurmendi with Eneko Atxa, and on opening a restaurant in Berlin. At 30, I was looking at the great chefs I admired—those who usually earned their first star around 35, 37, or even 40. I realized I was still young and had a choice. I could stay in Spain, settle comfortably with that one star, or I could step out of my comfort zone and become a chef who truly makes a mark—like Paco, like Albert Adrià, like Joan Roca. That’s what I wanted—not just to be a great chef but to do something meaningful.
So, I decided to seek a new experience—something different from Italy and Spain, away from Mediterranean culture. Paco mentioned he was opening a restaurant in Poland. It was like a spark; I knew it was for me. I had never been to Poland, didn’t know Polish people. Everything would be new: the culture, the climate, the place. I said “yes,” and here I am. It’s funny how life works—a series of coincidences that brought me here. And I have to say, I’m grateful for it. I’m lucky to be here.

S.P.: Where do you find inspiration for your dishes?
A.A.: Honestly, everywhere. Anything, anywhere, any occasion, any person can be inspiring. For me, nature is the greatest inspiration. It gives us food; it surrounds us, and it’s where everything begins. But there has to be a connection, something meaningful that drives you. If you’re cooking just to show that you’re a good chef, that’s fine; you can make lobster, caviar, all the fancy ingredients. But if something significant happens in your life, you want to express that through your food, something deeper.
Inspiration can also come from those close to you. For example, when I met Agnieszka, my fiancée, it was a turning point—the best inspiration I could have asked for. I also created the dish pasta e patate, which became iconic at Arco. It was a tribute to my father, a way to honor him and think of him through my cooking. That’s the kind of inspiration that goes beyond ingredients or technique. It’s about expressing something meaningful.
Inspiration can come from unexpected places too. For one of our menus, I drew inspiration from a Beatles album. Music can also be an incredible source of inspiration. For me, nature is the foundation of my ideas, but there’s also travel, the people around me, places I’ve been, and even a movie sometimes. Everything can inspire.
We chefs are, in a way, “sick.” We think only about food; it consumes us. Of course, we have hobbies and passions, but we live for cooking, for the kitchen. I remember watching a documentary long ago about Jiro Ono, the sushi master, Jiro Dreams of Sushi. He talked about dreaming of sushi, drawing inspiration even in his sleep. I get that. Sometimes, you’re so immersed in creation that you wake up with an idea, thinking, “Wow, this could be something!” Of course, it needs refining—the dream alone isn’t enough. But sometimes, that’s where inspiration comes from.

S.P.: How important is it for a menu to tell a story? Is it necessary to earn a Michelin star?
A.A.: Storytelling isn’t necessary for Michelin. What matters to them is your cooking skill. You need to be technically skilled. You need to know how to make a perfect sauce, cook fish to perfection. You could have the most beautiful story, but if the fish is overcooked, that story doesn’t matter. If the food isn’t right, everything else loses meaning.
At Arco, in a tasting menu, I want to tell a story. What I cook with my team is an extension of ourselves; it’s something we want to express. Like a singer writing songs—not just for money but to convey something meaningful. I want to convey a story, an experience—something beyond just proving we’re good chefs. Creating a menu that way is so much more fulfilling. I could make a menu just to say, “Look, I’m good, I’ve finished cooking, and that’s it.” But at the end of the day, that wouldn’t make me happy. To be truly content, the story has to be authentic. I always say we have to be honest.

Stories can be crafted in many ways, but if you’re telling an honest story, you’re doing it primarily for yourself, not for the guests. It’s essential to be honest with yourself and know what you want to convey—to guests, to the team, to the servers, and even to those who follow you on social media. That message is key, not for Michelin, but for your own fulfillment.
S.P.: In your opinion, what sets Arco apart from other places in Poland?
A.A.: Honestly, I don’t like comparisons, but Arco is unique—and, of course, the view from our restaurant is truly amazing. Our strength, though, is the team. Everyone, from the chefs to the waitstaff to the dishwashers, works with complete dedication. We share a common dream that we’re bringing to life together, and we’re doing it not for ego but from a genuine passion and desire to be right here, where we are.
S.P.: How do you see Arco’s future? What about more Michelin distinctions?
A.A.: My dream is three stars. I’m aware of that, and I’m ambitious. But it’s Michelin that gives the awards, not us. Maybe in two, three, or four years, we’ll earn a second star—or maybe we’ll lose one next year. We don’t know; it’s like sports—you can be the best, but the outcome depends on the evaluation. Real Madrid may be the best team in the world, but if they lose the final, they won’t earn the Champions League title. On paper, anyone can say what they want, but ultimately, the verification isn’t up to us.
S.P.: Do you plan to stay in Poland long-term?
A.A.: I’m not thinking about leaving Poland anytime soon. Right now, I feel comfortable here. I feel good in Gdańsk—even happy. I want to build a family here. My friends come to visit, and this place is starting to feel like home. But you never know; life is full of surprises. At 30, I never would have thought I’d be living in Gdańsk. It’s a bit like when I went to Spain for six months and ended up staying 12 years.
Life doesn’t always go as planned. You can make a plan, sure, but life is always… full of surprises. For now, though, I plan to stay in Poland. I feel good here; it feels like home. I want to build a family. I’m getting married soon. I feel fantastic at Arco, and my team is incredible.

S.P.: That’s wonderful to hear! And who is Paco Pérez to you?
A.A.: Paco? Paco is everything. If I’m here now, talking with you, giving this interview, it’s because Paco taught me everything—from the very basics. I came to Spain after earning my diploma in gastronomy, full of confidence, like any Italian fresh out of culinary school, thinking I knew it all. And then Paco appeared… I always say it was “softly hard.” He was never harsh, but sometimes it was challenging. In terms of my profession, he will always be my genius, my mentor, my inspiration as a master—and as everything.

Now, almost 20 years later, he’s my good friend. We can laugh, talk about everything, and do anything together. We’re very close, like family. I always say Paco is like my second father. I started working with him when I was 19, just a kid, and he took care of me as if I were part of his family. It became a deeper relationship than just teacher and student. Paco is the reason I have a career.
In life, you have your mother, your father, a big brother, maybe a grandfather—you have people you turn to when things are tough, when you need advice, or when you want to celebrate. You have family and friends in life. And in gastronomy, I had Paco. Knowing there’s someone like him means you’re never truly alone. It’s one of life’s greatest gifts to have a mentor like him, but it’s something more than just mentorship.
Paco is also truly a good person. He’s gentle, altruistic—not something you often see in chefs. When I first arrived at his restaurant, the atmosphere was completely different from what I knew in the pizzeria. Paco had just earned his Michelin star.

I was surprised to see him drinking hot tea throughout the day. I was fascinated by his calm, focused energy and dedication. He didn’t just set high standards; he embodied them. I’m glad he became an excellent role model for me as a chef and as a person. Thanks to him, I focus on my passion: cooking. I love the art of cuisine, the essence of true Gastronomy—with a capital “G,” like Paco. That’s where the beauty lies.

S.P.: Maybe let’s change the topic. Are there any classic dishes that you consider “sacred” and would never alter, even with culinary trends?
A.A.: You mean the tradition in world cuisine? Who says you can’t change something? Why? Boundaries are there to be crossed, right? If you want to make a modern version of carbonara, why not? In the end, it’s about evolution, isn’t it? You can create, improve, and develop…
Of course, sometimes you might crave something classic, and that’s great, but a restaurant like Arco is a place where we embrace creativity. Creativity has no limits, as long as you respect the food and are honest, as we discussed before.
S.P.: What about classic carbonara with, for example, cream?
A.A.: Italians make carbonara only with egg, guanciale, and so on, but in my family, when I was a kid, who bought guanciale? We used pancetta, and we used the whole egg. Do you think my mother and father threw out the egg whites? No, we used the whole egg, and that was that. So, which carbonara is the “real” one? The one from the book, or the one your mother makes? For me, my mother’s carbonara is the best. Maybe the egg was a bit overcooked, but that was the carbonara I grew up with. The recipe from the book may be the classic, but every family, every region has its own version. When I was in Spain, I remember they made carbonara for the staff and added cream because maybe that’s just how it’s done in that culture. It’s the same with pizza.
You need to be open-minded because cultures are different. You know, in Italy, people eat sushi with mayonnaise, and no one in Japan finds that scandalous. If you want to eat sushi with mayo, go ahead; do what makes you happy. In Japan, you can eat real Japanese sushi. When I was there, I was surprised. In Europe, even in great Japanese restaurants, we’re used to a lot of soy sauce and umami. In Japan, I remember my first sushi reminded me of Italian cuisine—delicate, few ingredients, the pure taste of fish, rice without heavy seasoning, just a touch of rice vinegar, a hint of soy sauce that a good chef adds in the right amount, not like a drink. That’s what’s amazing about Japanese cuisine. And here in Europe, we use tons of soy sauce, and we’re happy with that too. That’s fantastic as well.
S.P.: Is there a dish you’ve created that you’re especially proud of?
A.A.: Talking about just one dish doesn’t capture what I’m proud of. Of course, there are dishes I’m really proud of, like pasta e patate, which became quite iconic, or the turbot parguel, which I hold in high regard. But I’m most proud of an entire menu—the “Beauty of Nature.” I think it marked a turning point at Arco; it was the menu that set us apart, with over 20 courses, establishing our style and letting us tell our story, convey our message. We created it around 2023, and I think the whole team feels pride in this menu. Everyone loved it, and I noticed elements of it being replicated on social media—the plating, the style. That makes me happy because just as I find inspiration in chefs like Albert Adrià, Paco, Joan Roca, or Ángel León, others are starting to find inspiration in what we’re doing at Arco. This menu marks the “year zero” for Arco, the beginning of our own timeline.
But it also has a personal dimension. Around that time, I was going through big life changes. There was a lot of emotion, which opened up a new source of inspiration in me. I even changed the way I approached creating menus—I started sketching out my ideas. It was transformative, not only for Arco’s cuisine but also for me personally. I think no one on the Arco team will ever forget that menu; it became part of our shared experience.

S.P.: What are your favorite Polish dishes? Or is there anything you avoid?
A.A.: I’m not a big fan of fermented foods. It’s not just Polish ferments—I feel similarly about ferments from other countries. Those flavors are just too intense for me, but that’s a matter of taste. There are other Polish classics I really enjoy, though: mizeria, soups, and things like that.

But if I had to choose the best Polish dish of all time, it would definitely be Agnieszka’s grandmother’s flaki [ed: tripe soup]. In fact, those flaki inspired one of the dishes in Beauty of Nature. They are absolutely the best. I’ve tried flaki in different places, but nothing compares to hers. The first time I tasted them was my first visit to her family. Although I was quite reserved out of respect that day, I just stood up, went to the kitchen, and served myself a second helping. They were that good. I just said, “Przepraszam,” and then, “bardzo, bardzo smaczne.” Her grandmother was delighted. She even once sent me a jar of flaki, just for me. 😊

S.P.: What’s next? Do you have any exciting new projects or planned collaborations, either in Poland or abroad?
A.A.: We have a lot of offers, but I don’t like doing something just for the sake of it. I want to do something that makes sense. We’re considering a “Guest Chef” event for next year, and we have a few names in mind. There’s one very exciting thing I can’t reveal yet, but you’ll hear about it soon!
S.P.: One last question—has your life changed after earning a Michelin star in Poland? Or perhaps more so after you received your first one abroad?
A.A.: If I’d received a star in Italy, it would have been one of hundreds of such distinctions Michelin awards there, so it wouldn’t have made much noise. Here in Poland, suddenly, there’s huge interest, and many people invite me for interviews. That’s because Poland has only a few restaurants with this recognition. But I believe—truly, I believe—that there will be more in the coming years. Yet, on the other hand, it might not be good if there are too many. Imagine if Poland became like Barcelona, for example. In Barcelona alone, there are tons of restaurants. The same goes for Singapore, Macau, or Hong Kong. In such places, that special recognition loses value. It used to be that only elite restaurants earned such distinctions. When Paco received his second star in Spain in 2010, there were only eight two-star restaurants in the entire country. Now, there are 47 with two or three Michelin stars.
S.P.: Thank you so much for your time, and we wish you continued success.
A.A.: Thank you very much.