Ciccio Sultano and Riccardo Canella, what a couple in Ragusa! A story of destinies and freedom

It is a debate that has been open since the beginning of time. It’s been discussed by Cicero, Spinoza, Hegel, Nietzsche, up to contemporary philosophers: the relationship between destiny and freedom has always been antithetical. Yet two chefs, transposing the concepts onto different planes, seem to be shaping an idea that manages to unite the two principles.

It all happens in scenic Ragusa Ibla, in the kitchens of restaurant Duomo, two Michelin stars for 19 years, where Ciccio Sultano, an emblem of Italian cuisine, has welcomed Riccardo Canella, a chef born in Veneto in 1985 with plenty of experience in some of the world's most prestigious gastronomic locations. The latter has worked beside him for the past three months. "Fate has wanted to cross our paths: there are things that only happen if the stars align in a certain way". The chef from Mestrino (Padua) recalls the meeting this way: “We were at Ein Prosit and I had finished cooking at a four-handed dinner with Corrado Assenza. Sultano was going to cook the next day in the same restaurant. I was sorting out my things and he was doing an inspection. We recognised each other, we talked, in November I came for dinner and since February this has been my home.”

Destiny in a meeting; Sultano speaks of freedom: “The dishes on our current menus were created by four hands. It was necessary to make one thing clear from the start: everyone had to feel free to propose and create. In expressing oneself, there must be no constraints, walls or stakes.” And he points out: “The beauty of the creative moment lies in the freedom to express oneself.”

After completing catering school in Abano Terme, Riccardo Canella worked for a long time with pastry chef Luigi Biasetto, alongside his head of operations Ivan Centeleghe, who was also Gualtiero Marchesi's head pastry chef at the start of the Erbusco adventure. At the age of 23, he spent six months at Alajmo's Le Calandre; after three months in a bistro in Oslo, in 2014 he joined Noma as an intern and in December 2015 René Redzepi entrusted him with the sous chef's stripes. In 2022 he wore the chef's toque at restaurant Oro inside the historic Belmond Hotel Cipriani in Venice.

A journey that has touched the north of Europe and the north of Italy, while southern winds are blowing in Ragusa: “When I left Copenhagen,” says the chef from Veneto, “I had the feeling that the gastronomic tension was going south. Probably a thought against the current of the widespread opinion that the South offers fewer opportunities for growth for so many reasons. In reality, Sicily is an El Dorado for its wealth of products, history, culture and for the education of people.” The world seen through the eyes of a chef: “Everything on this island is gastronomic culture,” Canella continues. “I am a careful person and I look around a lot: I arrived in my car and saw 30/40 different types of herbs and flowers in the fields by the side of the road. Every outdoor trip becomes an inspiration for me: in Vittoria I find Aleppo pine and I make an ice cream with it, then I taste wonderful tomatoes, wild berries, the catch, lamb... For me it's a real playground.”

Canella is not a young man in the making, but an established name in Italian cuisine, and Sultano entrusted him with the keys to his restaurant: could it be that Ciccio feels more and more like a manager and less and less like a chef? The Sicilian chef smiles: “I think many have thought so. In our group, which I manage with my partner Gabriella Cicero, we now have several restaurants: Rome, Vienna, the newborn restaurant inside the Palermo airport, and I need to have good people by my side that I can count on. But I spend 90 per cent of my life at restaurant Duomo. I am there more than ever and will be as long as my name is on the sign.” He adds: “For my visits to venues in Rome and Vienna, I usually leave on Sunday and return on Tuesday because Duomo is closed on Sunday and Monday. I don't understand how anyone can think that I am any less of a cook.”

So Canella the traveller stopped in Ibla: “It is true, I am a traveller, but I am also a person who firmly believes in the things I do. The work in Sicily takes total hold and is something I am proud and happy about. With the chef we are working on a process of gastronomic research that, in some ways, is making me rediscover the Riccardo I knew, the one that expresses himself at an embryonic level, the one that expresses in the kitchen the sensations of belly, of passion, of fire.” The understanding between people cannot be invented: “The reason I stayed so many years at Noma is because René and I recognised each other in certain things. Today in Sultano I recognise many traits of myself: he is a father to everyone who works in the company, and he is one to me too.”

Ciccio's thoughts on Canella leave no room for doubt: “Riccardo has endless energy in the kitchen and from a human point of view he is an extraordinary person with great sensitivity. A bit like me; maybe from the outside you can't see it, but those who know me well know that I am like that. We are two people with a strong character and a clear idea who work together perfectly.” Liasure's expiry date? “I’d like to stay for a long time,” Canella replies. “After all, speaking of freedom, one is truly free when one knows oneself, and I would like to leave Sicily when I am richer myself.”

It is in the destiny of intelligent men to seek freedom, and it is in the destiny of great chefs to give new forms to taste. This is summed up in a sentence by the writer and philosopher Albert Camus: “To create is to give shape to one's destiny.”

Translated into English by Slawka G. Scarso