Simone Caponnetto didn’t just leave Florence; he embarked on a culinary expedition gathering the sacred scrolls of modern gastronomy: the French precision of The Waterside Inn, the poetic minimalism of Tokyo’s Narisawa, and the radical creativity of Spain’s Mugaritz.
Born in Florence in 1990, he carries within him the particular restlessness that drives certain souls toward distant horizons. “I had this passion for travel,” he explains, “it came even before cooking.” This wanderlust—a word that inadequately captures the profound need some feel to understand the world through direct experience—led him away from Tuscany immediately after culinary school, beginning a decade-long odyssey that would take him across continents and through kitchens that would become the laboratories of his education. The trajectory of his journey reads like a modernist novel: America, Australia, Japan, Spain, England, each destination providing not merely technical instruction but philosophical framework.
In Sydney, speaking no English, he found himself working under a Neapolitan pastry chef who had trained at the legendary Waterside Inn under Alain Roux. Language barriers dissolved in the universal vocabulary of heat, timing, and the precise manipulation of ingredients. This linguistic transcendence through craft—the way skill supersedes verbal communication—would become a recurring theme in Caponnetto’s development. His return feels less like a conquest than a conversation.
At Locale Firenze, he has built a bridge between the Arno and the world, serving food that tastes of Tuscany’s soul in a bold, modern dialect. The palazzo may be centuries old, but what arrives on the plate feels like Florence’s next Renaissance. There exists a paradox behind Caponnetto’s philosophy. He suggests the great deception of Italian cuisine is its apparent simplicity.
The truth is that this simplicity is a final, elegant flourish—a magician’s reveal that conceals a profound journey. His odyssey is the map to his menu. “I used to think tradition had to be followed to the letter,” Simone reflects. “But abroad I saw that even the most deeply rooted cultures evolve. I realised that Tuscan cuisine is not a museum, and that being authentic doesn’t mean replicating the past, but understanding it deeply and letting it speak with the present.” His stage at Narisawa, exposed him to a culinary language focused on the essence of place.
The true catalyst was his time at Mugaritz. This culinary research laboratory is where Caponnetto learned to experiment and develop his own creative voice. He immersed himself in fermentation and was one of only a handful of stagiaires asked to stay and develop the following year’s menu. “Fermentation at Mugaritz was a turning point: it was not just a technique, but a philosophy,” he explains. “At Locale, we use it to give new life to what would otherwise be waste. It’s a bridge between ethics and creativity.” This period made him realize he was ready to return home. It is this spirit of innovation that drives Chef Caponnetto’s kitchen at Locale Firenze.
The palazzo is an active character in the dining experience. The frescoed dining rooms create an atmosphere of temporal displacement, while the basement kitchen, with its medieval bread oven, reminds us that transforming ingredients with heat remains a fundamental human act. For Simone, the homecoming was a rediscovery. “Growing up with pappa al pomodoro, I took it for granted,” he admits. “Away from home, I understood how profound those flavours are. I rediscovered seasonality as a way of living that I had forgotten.”
“At Locale, we use fermentation to give new life to what would otherwise be waste. It’s a bridge between ethics and creativity.”
He begins the meal with an egg. What arrives is a perfect sphere. The confitted yolk is filled with a vibrant salsa verde. The tradition of egg with sauce has been inverted; this is the egg, as the sauce. It is served on a whisper-light brioche. It is a dish conceived by a mind trained in deconstruction, yet it yearns for home. His approach to sourcing is fanatical. His ingredients are purely Tuscan. He works with a friend on a local holding, creating a garden for the restaurant.
This connection to the earth is the heart of his food. “At first, I wanted to bring everything back,” he says. “Then I realised that balance must be listened to. I made the techniques invisible, letting them serve the dish.” But the main event is the piccione. The pigeon, from Greve in Chianti, is aged for up to 15 days in linens, wrapped in a veil of house-made truffle viscio. This use of fermentation creates a flavour both ancient and new. He serves the filet alone first. “One bite,” he instructs. It is a pure taste of the Chianti hills, transformed. Then, a mousse made from the scraps embodies his zero-waste philosophy. It is not a dish. It is a biography on a plate.
By venturing beyond Florence to learn from the world’s masters, Simone Caponnetto gained the perspective needed to engage with its traditions in a far deeper dialogue. He has constructed a culinary bridge, crafting a cuisine that remains profoundly rooted in the Tuscan earth yet speaks in a thrillingly modern dialect—a brilliant renaissance served within the walls of an ancient palazzo.
