In Conversation: Annalisa Ferraris

You trained as a fine artist before stepping into professional kitchens. When you look back, was food always the medium or did it find you later?

Whilst food was always around, I didn’t realise until much later that my fine art practice and my love of cooking weren’t mutually exclusive. I was always hosting dinner parties and experimenting with recipes, but it took time to understand that being an artist didn’t have to mean working only with paint in a studio. Food, like paint is a medium. 

When you move between roles from artist, chef, stylist, writer, do you feel they are separate disciplines, or part of the same language expressed differently?

They’re definitely part of the same language. They’re all visual in some way, even my writing style. There’s usually an undertone of wanting to bring people together, whether that’s sharing food around a table or connecting through words.

You collaborate across fashion, fragrance and art. What does a meaningful collaboration look like to you?

I think the key is capturing the essence of the brand you’re working with while still bringing your own perspective to it- that balance between the two. You want to take people on a journey, but it has to feel authentic to the brand. The best collaborations happen when there’s trust on both sides, very little micromanagement, and a genuinely shared vision.

You explore hosting not as performance, but as atmosphere. What do you think makes a gathering feel genuinely intimate today?

It has to be genuine. Whilst there’s often a considered element for content today, that can’t be the thing driving the experience- otherwise it reads that way. I genuinely love hosting. I love monitoring the levels on drinks, knowing when the next course should come out, giving the evening its anchors, and watching people connect. Candles, tablecloths and beautiful objects all help create atmosphere, but the real intimacy comes from people sharing food and stories.

Your tables feel composed but effortless. How do you define good taste  and where does restraint come into play? 

My mother is the epitome of good taste- elegant and sophisticated without pretence. I think the same balance applies to the table. Start with good cutlery and glassware; those two elements alone can elevate even the simplest setting. From there it’s about restraint, a simple tablecloth, foliage or flowers. Nothing overdone, but still thoughtfully curated.

Do you begin with flavour, colour, season or story when designing an experience? Or is it instinctual?

Usually story. I try to understand the mood or feeling we’re trying to create, and then everything else flows from there.