growing up in an Italian family, food was never far away. Being surrounded by friends and family, sitting at long tables crowded with our favourite dishes was the norm.
From an early age, I loved spending hours in the kitchen with my parents and grandparents, exploring traditional recipes and flavours. Summers would see the entire extended family come together to make the year’s passata, and we’d spend a day in June turning an entire locally bred pig into salumi, prosciutto and capocollo. With this deep respect of food, four hungry boys and a few chooks in the backyard, nothing was ever wasted. For its ability to connect, nourish, entertain and sustain, food was, and still is, a treasured part of the Demaio life.
Yet, as a doctor, I’ve seen the…
