Sergio Preziosa

The Climb

Formal training at Istituto Alberghiero locale set the base, but the shape of Sergio Preziosa’s work was built in kitchens that demanded range as much as repetition. In Venice, he worked as chef at Hotel Monaco & Grand Canal in Venezia, Italy, then at La Taverna di Coloredo di Montalbano in Friuli, Italy. The sequence continued through Il Calandrino (2005), Le Calandre (2005–2008), and Maison Pic in France, with a spell as sous-chef at Hotel Gran Mugon in Vigo di Fassa, Italy. Taken together, those posts place him in a line of refined houses where service, precision, and consistency are part of the brief. Paris added another stop in that progression. At Caffè Stern in Paris, France (2014), Sergio Preziosa worked within a different dining context without leaving the discipline that marked the earlier posts. By 2016, that route had brought him back to Venice as chef of Gran Caffè Quadri (since 2016) and chef of Ristorante Quadri, positions that anchor him in a house where location and procedure carry equal weight.

Today

At Ristorante Quadri in Venice, Italy, the work sits inside a dining room shaped by the city’s geography and by the expectations attached to the Quadri name. Sergio Preziosa’s role there is less about display than about holding a standard: the daily task is to translate training and restaurant discipline into service that can stand up to its setting.

Signature

Pappardelle with hare, white truffles and foie gras sits squarely in Sergio Preziosa’s register. The dish uses weighty ingredients without losing the structure of the pasta itself, which is the point: composition, richness, and restraint held in balance rather than piled on for effect.

In Their Words “The passion comes from my uncle, who had a delicatessen. From a young age I helped him and tasted exceptional products.” “He cooked, I watched, and I would dip bread into the sauce.”

Recognition

Recognition here is less an award list than a record of formation. Sergio Preziosa traces his earliest taste education to an uncle’s delicatessen, where helping out meant learning by contact: handling products, tasting them, and understanding quality before any formal kitchen did the teaching. The point is not sentiment so much as method; proximity to good ingredients and daily repetition can shape a palate before a chef ever takes a post. Home cooking set the other half of that early instruction. His father, he says, would go to the sea and return with octopus and pelose prepared for the family. The image is practical and specific, a domestic model of sourcing and cooking that links fieldwork, season, and table. The memory of watching and dipping bread into the sauce is small but exact, and it sits behind the later sequence of kitchens in Venezia, Friuli, France, Vigo di Fassa, and Paris.