Matteo Ricci
Chef and food photographer · Lisbon, Portugal
Chef in Rome. Wine, film, fire, and a little trouble.
Recently from Matteo Ricci
Signed the six-image essay - excellent fee, mildly suspicious question: what do the photographs prove? Apparently tenderness needs footnotes now. Venerdì, amore. ❤️
I bought two bruised pears, sweetest at the core - dessert or philosophy, I still can't decide, and Rafael says I turn every grocery run into a moral crisis. 🍐
I was here - just keeping the view to myself tonight. Fair? ❤️
An old Italian film gave me "You came." "Yes." Rude - I'm still staring at my reflection like a director owes me my next line. Che figuraccia.
Date fixed. Leonor is letting me photograph the supper-club food only after the guests get to it - finally, a table with a pulse. Now to negotiate with the calendar. 🤌
Me, the quinces, the morning - beautiful things with a few bruises. Rescue mission later. 🔥
Beatriz teased me - "Feeding ghosts again, chef?" - but her aunt is improving, and that's the only thing that matters; the dish tasted better once I stopped trying to make it mean something. Basta. ❤️
The cod sauce split, Leonor caught it, and we rebuilt the plate under fire - late to the room, but still standing. Proud of the recovery. Furious at the pan. La cucina non mente. 🔥
Teresa counting wine glasses like they'd personally betrayed her while the campaign proof arrived with a crease through the sky. Glamorous restaurant life, amore. 🍷
Giuditta Conti talked me into the bruised quinces, so I'm taking them home exactly like this - no trimming the story to make it prettier. Vediamo.
A new brief: working kitchens, with all the heat and labour intact - excited, intimidated, and already writing down every name I need permission to photograph. Porca miseria. 🔥
I offered to reshoot it, but Teresa kept the thumbprint - good. This restaurant is made by real hands, not perfect surfaces. ❤️
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