From a story by Cesare Benelli, owner of Al Covo
We were born in 1987. Right from the start, we focused on regional cuisine, on ingredient-based cooking. That’s where the whole story began. I was fortunate because during that time, Venetian cuisine was languishing with stereotypical models, somewhat mimicking French cuisine, nouvelle cuisine. But, as with all trends, they don’t last long. We shifted our focus to something else, like the recognitions from Veronelli, for instance, which offered an alternative to starred cuisine—a cuisine that involves not only the quality of ingredients but also the chef’s ego. Whereas our cuisine is as ego-less as possible. What speaks is the ingredient; the ingredient is what determines the dish.
Another difference is that I don’t believe food is art. It can be craftsmanship, even sophisticated, but not art. Food should be truth, while art can be deception. The artisan, on the other hand, is a custodian, and, in the case of cooking, must preserve the traditional heritage of the ingredients and historical cooking techniques of that region. You are connected to the past, obviously the present, but also the future because without a memory of the past, there is no future. The chef bridges the gap between tradition and modernity.
Before the 1960s, Venice was a city that offered incredible hospitality. It was renowned and attracted a high-end tourism segment, the highest in Italy, and all the grand hotels were here. Places like the Excelsior offered regional cuisine, with fish caught by kids from Lido and strawberries picked at Alberoni.
By the 1970s, things began to change, and even these grand hotels started to lose their sense of using local produce, although the lagoon still offered so much, so very much. It was a terrestrial paradise, diverse, with spectacular biodiversity (There are very few lagoons like this in the world. This was – is – a unique place, and we need to realize that). At that time, the fish available here accounted for 30% of the city’s needs. Then came trawling, the bulldozer, which, without regulation, wreaked havoc. The death of everything. Now, the European Community has imposed some regulation, but it’s very lax, not enough.
I am a founder of the Buona Accoglienza association, along with Albino Busato. Together, we created a brand, a code of conduct. And now the issues are different, but they still exist. There needs to be an environmental stance, a cultural one too. A reflection that we can perhaps undertake together to combine culinary proposals – which still look to history, the past – with the environment that surrounds us today.
For example, we base our menus on the market and the season, always. Everything is made fresh daily. That’s the key. You have to use what is fresh, as fresh as it can be when it’s caught, and as sustainably as possible. That’s what you need to do, and based on what you see in the market, you design your menu. People don’t ask for more. It’s simple, this concept. Chefs must operate in their context and create a cuisine through subtraction. But, above all, it must be an informed cuisine. If there are no more sole, you don’t serve them for two years at Christmas. The same goes for mullets, cuttlefish. You have to adapt to what is available because there is very little of what there once was. Think about the market, think about the region, and, first and foremost, understand it. Awareness is required, which is part of living in a region, respecting it. This is what’s lacking. It used to be taken for granted, but there was a food community, meaning Venetians only dealt with seasonal produce, they only ate what was available. Because, quite simply, it was cheaper. Now there are many of us, and there is less of everything. We need awareness. Venetian cuisine is very simple and almost exclusively tied to availability and water.
Al Covo has been around for many years; we are well-known, and we have a lot of returning customers. Those who come to us know what to expect, they know what we offer. Half of them already know us – sometimes I’ve seen generations grow and change – and the other half is up to us to narrate, to do that custodial work we mentioned. We need to share, explain, make people understand – the seasonality of products, the environment of the lagoon – fish, vegetables, game, everything. We almost have to do it upstream, meaning before they arrive here. And this is what La Buona Accoglienza should continue to do. A communion of intentions. In the past, the motivations were more practical-logistical, more technical. Now they are political, cultural. These issues must emerge and unite us, in our small way. The idea must become content, action. I particularly focus on telling the story of fishing techniques, what should or should not be considered. There’s so much. But, of course, you have to start somewhere, and these seem to be the basics. Then, there are plenty of other topics.
My greatest satisfaction, for me, is undoubtedly founding this group, uniting us, finding this communion of intentions. The road is long, but the substance is there.