The Knife, the Garlic, the Air
The Knife, the Garlic, the Air
Garlic, olive oil, air — that’s how every honest story begins. Cooking here feels like remembering something ancient: the sound of a knife against wood, the rhythm of breath, the way conversation seasons the room.
I used to think precision was craft. But here, craft is presence. The dish becomes alive because we are.
Cook where fire meets feeling.