When I speak about Florence, and when I mention Gianni Ugolini, I am certain that — whoever I am talking to — the reaction is always the same: “…Ah yes, Gianni!” I have yet to meet a Florentine who does not know Gianni Ugolini. A friend — by now I would say — whom it is difficult to define, so extroverted and creative he is. Brilliant, I would say.
I could describe him as a great photographer, although the adjective great is not something I assign to him myself — it is his work that speaks for him. And you can see it for yourselves at gianniugolini.it.
I could describe him as a great connector of people. It is inevitable for someone with his character — always searching for experiences, encounters, shared moments, stimulating people and people to stimulate.
I could also tell his story as that of a great restaurateur, considering his bold idea of creating a luxury Chinese restaurant in Florence, Fulìn, a place where Chinese dumplings are handmade one by one and where the search for raw ingredients is almost obsessive — starting with ducks brought directly from Provence.
But he is also a man of great generosity. I first got to know him while working together on a solidarity marketing initiative dedicated to the “Butterfly Children” — children affected by epidermolysis bullosa, a terrible disease. For that project, Gianni took thousands of photographs to create a wonderful calendar (which I still keep with great pride).
Above all, however, I want to introduce him as a true guardian of Florentine traditions — and not only Florentine ones.
I am talking about the beautiful kind of traditions, those that require a thoughtful and determined path. The kind that force you to set aside modern shortcuts, laziness and the temptation to compromise just to make things easier.
Could his Fiorentina steak be anything other than the perfect example of what I mean? But let’s take it step by step.
We decided to go to Florence on a kind of reconnaissance trip, since Federico — my newly eighteen-year-old son, fresh out of high school — will soon move here to begin a three-year degree in enology. Gianni and I had promised each other (or rather, he promised me) a Fiorentina steak at the first possible opportunity. Well, the opportunity arrived, and I let him know.
“Just make sure you tell me about ten days in advance, because I need time to source some top-level ingredients…”
That was Gianni’s warning as soon as I told him I would be coming through his city.
Yes, because Gianni’s Fiorentina must follow the rule of the five “C’s”:
La Ciccia (the meat),
la Cottura (the cooking),
Calda dentro (hot inside),
i Coltelli (the knives),
la Compagnia (the company).
Finally, the moment arrives. We are at Gianni’s home.
And to those five “C’s” I must necessarily add two more letters:
the “T” for Time and the “P” for Passion.
Because what I saw Gianni do that evening — in my opinion — is simply not replicable.
Three Fassona heifer steaks, aged 45 days (and with the first “C” we are right on target).
Each steak weighed about 1.5 kg and was first placed in the oven to allow the inside to warm up properly, ensuring the steak would not end up hot on the outside and cold in the center. A detail that, besides satisfying the second “C”, is in my opinion the true touch of mastery from Gianni. In fact, it is a kind of “cuddle” reserved for the meat, beginning early in the afternoon — just as the preparation of the fire starts well in advance, using strictly olive and oak wood.
And then there is the care devoted to the embers. So meticulous that it makes you widen your eyes when Gianni appears with a hairdryer, teasing the fire until it reaches the perfect intensity to begin cooking the meat.
At that moment, a nearly religious ritual begins: salt, pepper, olive oil, bay leaves, massages, turning and flipping on the grill, tending the fire and occasionally spraying water to tame the flames.
A ritual — or rather a true protocol — that concludes when the meat is placed on wooden cutting boards, sliced with magnificent handcrafted knives from Scarperia, and shared in almost reverent silence. If Agnesi, the pasta brand, had been able to capture that moment, their famous slogan “Silence, Agnesi is speaking” would have become “Silence, Ugolini is cooking.”
I won’t describe what happened next, partly because it might provoke envy, but above all because it would diminish the artistic work Gianni had just completed. A masterpiece worthy of his finest photograph. A moment of pure gratification that can only be lived, not told. And for that, I’m sorry.
Ah, but we are still missing the last of the “C’s”: company.
Well, after the Fiorentina, a “Tentennino” appeared on the table — a sort of extraordinary flan. But truth be told, at Gianni’s house, the plate could have been empty and the “C” of company would still have been honored in grand style.
P.S.
Don’t miss the five-minute video showing the entire preparation.
You will probably suffer a little while watching it — but it will be worth it.
