Dear Roberto,
“I write to you from the depths of the sea, hidden inside a coral garden. Sheltered from sharks, yet invisible to mermaids. Whenever I feel like it, I look up and watch the sun through a million billion cubic meters of water. And finally, my eyes don’t burn anymore.”
By nature, I do what I like and what I feel compelled to do. Ideas, dreams, and projects cannot spring from calculations or algorithms. They must pass through lightness, joy, and an urgent need for expression. All of this is antithetical to what I see and experience around me. Happiness, more and more often, depends not on what you do, but on how many people see it. Personal fulfillment is no longer concrete, earned, and lived; instead, it is engineered, filtered, edited, copied, and pasted. Staring into a screen has become more important than living. Fiction is mistaken for reality. The event horizon is that of our black hole mirror.
I entered the bar world through music, and when I became a part of it, I always kept the perspective of a guest hopelessly in love with this industry—with all its wealth of humanity, imperfection, frankness, and sprezzatura. Very little seems to remain of that era and that legacy. Much of the communication I see confirms this feeling, which is beginning to turn sour. I don't like how we communicate what we do—the outfit we let someone tailor for us and that we keep wearing, convinced it’s the only acceptable attire for the party. Indeed, we are a single copy of a thousand summaries. Where diversity was once the added value, now if you don't conform, you simply don't exist. Or, at least, we let ourselves be convinced of that.
It’s not just a matter of wrong answers. The point is that we ask ourselves—and allow ourselves to be asked—misleading questions. Being part of cliques, lists, and rankings has turned into mindless repetition and blind competition, whereas there used to be exchange and a mutual drive to grow. It has wiped out decades of work spent building expertise, dignity, pride, and a sense of belonging. Being recognizable and recognized is now sold as the fruit of social media campaigns or PR agencies, when it is, first and foremost, the product of daily toil, relationships, respect, and bonds woven through humanity, skill, and real, tangible presence—not a pixelated one. We have driven guests away from bars, stripping these spaces of their core essence: being vessels of humanity and empathy. We keep flashing glitter and sequins when we should be facing head-on a sector crisis that is no longer looming, but fully active. We ought to strive to be a true community—to make our voices heard and find real solutions—rather than self-celebrating nothingness or things that don't exist. Meanwhile, we have stopped actually working in and talking about bars, delegating that narrative to figures who, in the best-case scenario, understand very little about this world.
Social media is an important part of contemporary life. The key is finding a personal, genuine way to communicate who we are, without feeling the need to belong to some exclusive syndicate or circle. It means inhabiting the present with coherence and awareness. Not crafting a deceptive, opportunistic narrative where what is seen or told fails to match reality. And, wherever possible, pushing back against the prevailing status quo—being a solid, credible alternative.
It is fundamental to draw a sharp line between what is real and what is not, as well as between experiences that can be recounted and those that must be lived in person. Bars and music belong firmly to the second category.
Bars and music are romantic spaces. They leave room for what goes unsaid—for yesterday, today, and tomorrow. At a bar, you can dream every kind of dream without stressing over whether it will actually come true. That's the whole point, Roberto: dreaming in itself is the most extraordinary thing, because all our dreams are puzzle pieces that fit together bit by bit, eventually revealing something we still know nothing about. Freedom means having no pre-packaged path ahead. Enjoying the journey and the process—we'll discover the destination only at the end, perhaps.
I’ve always tried to listen to my dreams—to follow them. Nucleo is one of those dreams. I feel no pressure or need to conform to something that doesn't represent me. My main intent is to stay true to my partners' and my own vision of a bar: to create a place and an atmosphere that faithfully reflect who we are. To work every single day to earn the credibility and respect of guests and colleagues through actions rather than words. We need to act, not just engage in empty chatter. Far too often we launch podcasts, set ourselves up as role models, and dish out rulebooks without first rolling up our sleeves or getting our hands dirty. We rarely pursue an idea with consistency when it goes against the tide, even if it brings no immediate gain. We are so obsessed with being invisible or unaccepted in the metaverse that we no longer care about the value and weight of our real-world actions.The bar I love and want to represent and portray is made of people, humanity, and spontaneity. It’s made of sharp edges to smooth out, elephantine egos to align, passion to pour out and invest, endless hours, and brutal honesty. Of epic drinking sessions and late-night parties, but also extreme clarity and discipline. Of shady characters with hearts of gold, and good people capable of every mischief and deceit. Of love and betrayal, friendships born and lost, useless rivalries and alliances forged out of sheer opportunism. Of pirates on galleons with bottles instead of cannons. Of weaving through labels, stereotypes, and clichés. Of breaking rules, etiquette, and tradition. Of precarious balances on the weekend. Of stealing extra hours from the day just to laugh a little longer. Of morning Martini cocktails, airport beers, and in-flight Gin & Tonics. Of near-misses and missed deadlines. Of awards won—valued only as a reason to celebrate properly, not to strut around. Of surfing over gossip and bad tongues. Of a gently complex humanity that, through sunny days and stormy weather, is always present at the bar, ready to listen, tell stories, and serve drinks. Of so many things truly lived, without needing to be "viewed" to be precious and special.
We play liquid notes using instruments of steel and glass. Our sheet music is written on ice. What matters is having a unique sound and working hard to make it recognizable—not for rankings, fame, likes, or clout, but because it’s an inner urgency. Because it’s what you believe in. Because you love doing it.
I have realized many dreams. I’ve been fortunate to live many lives. I’ve served drinks on the 65th floor of a Manhattan skyscraper with Frank Sinatra playing in the background. I’ve traveled half the world and met countless people and stories. I’ve learned so much. How many distances I’ve shortened, how many fantasies I’ve brought to life. I’ve poured and carried so much water in my little bucket over these years. Much of it I spilled; a lot was lost—or maybe not. I know that those few drops saved each time, which I managed to carry where I wanted, created a tiny stream that allowed the paper boat carrying my dreams and desires to get somewhere, including right here.
I believe the meaning of life passes through moments like that evening in New York—when years, decades, billions of instances of my existence aligned and overlapped with the city lights shimmering beyond the glass. I know that the bar and music are two places where I’ve always felt completely like myself—where I still fully express and realize who I am, where I sublimate my essence, whatever that may be.
As I write to you, Roberto, I continue to cultivate and chase my dreams, trying to add more pieces to the puzzle. I don't know who will stand across from me at the counter or in front of the stage, but I can choose how to act: whether to be a pale copy of someone else, whether to resort to comforting, seemingly safe formulas out of fear, or to truly live and choose to be myself. To trust who I am and what I have to say—with attitude, awareness, consistency, tenacity, and romance.
