Publication date: April 12, 2023
For those from Catania or for those arriving in the charming side street of via Montesano, just near the four corners, stopping at Ratzmataz means taking shelter, in two senses: finding refuge and fixing oneself. Because in the shade of the large tree in the square, this happens: you find shelter from a hot summer day and you fix yourself after a hectic day, with a glass of wine, excellent jazz music, and the warm, familiar wood that lines the walls.
And it is right there among the tables under the tree, at the end of a plate of gnocchi with purple cabbage cream, that we meet Massimo Villardita, the mind and heart who built this small Parisian corner in the heart of Catania.
“First, there was Fioraio Bianchi Caffè in Milan, with the idea of combining food and flowers: an immense difficulty at the time to get the license, like all innovations. The idea was to recreate a bit of Parisian charm. It worked. And it is still active today.”
This is how Massimo’s journey into the world of cooking and sharing begins.
“I’ve been in the kitchen since 1988, in Viagrande. With my law degree, I couldn’t do anything; I wanted to become a notary. Then, with my wife, I moved to Milan and worked there for a long time with her. But cooking was in my heart, at a time when no one wanted to be a chef. And it was wonderful because there I brought pasta alla norma, but with fresh tomato sauce. Really, something you don’t even find in homes anymore. And lavender crème brûlée—I experimented a lot.”
At Fioraio, he took on many roles, handling the cash register, cooking, fighting with the authorities because serving food and flowers wasn’t really conceivable. But he returned to Catania.
It was necessary to return to the land of the Siculi and Sicani, to offer people a place that evokes a time never lived, a nostalgic reinterpretation. “For me, Milan is home, just like Catania, equally. I support Inter, so for me that’s further proof of how much I feel at home there. Then I separated from my wife, came here, met the woman who is now my wife, and brought with me everything I had, from paintings to chests.”
And so Ratzmataz was born. “I have the book with Paolo Conte’s drawings, who was a great painter. And I was struck by Razmataz. And little by little I built everything. I don’t know if it’s a beautiful or ugly place, I made it my own. I didn’t care.”
You are struck by the handwritten menu on the chalkboard that changes daily: the dishes are games of aromas, creams, and combinations that mostly bring out two adjectives: “good” and “delightful.”
Pumpkin soup with melted cheese, a dusting of cocoa, and croutons. Gnocchi with purple cabbage cream. Braised cauliflower.
There is always a wonderful lightheartedness among the tables; everyone feels that magic born in front of excellent food, the staff calling you by name, the crunching of the flatbreads placed in the basket to pass the time.
“People love to drink, share simple and reinterpreted small plates; it’s no longer just about eating.”
We are about to end our journey through time, and we say goodbye to Massimo with a reflection we share, which is at the heart of our projects. “Business should not be about the entrepreneur’s profit. Business should be a gain for the neighborhood. For the city. Business must have social value. We must work for this.”
And we will continue to do so, Massimo.
Focusing on the idea that food, when done well, creates value.
