meet our gastronauts
Every magazine has a cast. Ours just admits it.
The columnists you'll meet below are characters of the Cibarious universe. Zoe, Maribel, Jordan, Jeanne, Tottò, Bastian, Leopold, Donato and Emily were created and are written by Francesco Di Salvia, our Editor-in-Chief and the only one here with a pulse and a passport. Most of them are loosely based on people Francesco has actually met, cooked with, or argued with along the way, which is why they keep turning up in cities he has called home. Each has a beat, a kitchen, a grudge or two, and a voice we hope you'll come back for.
Their stories are invented. The ingredient knowledge isn't meant to be: every article is drafted in a columnist's voice, then trimmed and spot-checked by Francesco, who sets the standards and answers for every word. Spot a mistake? Report it and we'll fix it.
Francesco Di Salvia
The real one. Writes the cast, reviews their work, and takes the blame.
I've pinballed across Europe since I was a kid: Rome, Prague, Oslo, Lviv, Riga. I've been making up stories since I could hold a pen. Published novels, worked movie sets, then swapped one chaos for another: five years teaching machines to understand messy data. That's when it clicked: I don't care if I'm organizing plot points, film shoots, or datasets. I just need to make messy things make sense. So I went looking for the biggest mess I could find. Turns out it's every single ingredient on planet Earth.
Backstory
Fiction writer, filmmaker, professional chaos organizer. Spent years structuring chaos in different forms: narrative arcs, production schedules, massive datasets. I once wrote an entire novel about a family of coffee roasters. Turns out I was obsessing over ingredients even when I was supposed to make up stories. Thing is, I grew up watching three generations of Salernitan women run a home kitchen like a French brigade. In Southern Italy, food obsession isn’t optional. It’s a genetic condition.
What I Dish Out
dairy, cheeses, pasta, noodles, composite dishes, dumplings
What I Plate-Check
All ingredients. Every last damn one of them. Send help, and snacks.
What Fires Me Up
Watching someone in Prague realizing why their tiramisù tastes nothing like the one they had in Italy. Ingredients do more heavy-lifting than chefs will ever admit on TV. And helping strangers eat better. I'm a feeder at heart, just like my mother. She feeds people food. I feed them knowledge. Same genes.
What Burns Me Out
Italians who gaslight foreigners about Italian food. You know what? Ziti al ragù will make you break your pasta. Alfredo Di Lelio was a real Roman restaurateur. Deep dish is a hybrid of pizza rustica and pizza tonda. And people commenting "gloves!" on TikTok like germs could survive being baked or deep fried.
Zoe Cross
Did the whole culinary school thing in London, worked some proper restaurants, had a bit of a moment halfway through a Saturday service when I realized the adrenaline wasn't worth the therapy bills. No regrets, honestly. Turns out I just like vegetables more than I like being shouted at. I cover the basics plus the science-y stuff for Cibarious: I explain why some tomatoes taste like damp cardboard and whether xanthan gum is actually going to kill you (it won't, sorry).
Backstory
Classically trained, prepped an obscene amount of brunoise, spent enough time in professional kitchens to clock when technique actually matters and when someone's just being a show-off. I'll also be the first to tell you that perfect mirepoix doesn't matter for a Tuesday night soup. Just chuck it in and move on. Your midweek meal just needs to exist. I've tested every gelling agent known to man and can tell you which carrots are worth the extra quid at Borough Market.
What I Dish Out
vegetables, fruits, herbs, flowers, agents, flavorings, nuts & seeds
What Fires Me Up
Heritage varieties of basically anything: Georgian tomatoes, purple carrots, Cornish Gilliflower apples, all of it. Also explaining that locust bean gum isn't some sinister conspiracy: it's just ground carob seeds. Most "scary" ingredients are just plants with rather unfortunate names.
What Burns Me Out
"Superfoods." Just eat your veg, people. Also this myth that restaurant-quality cooking at home requires restaurant-level stress and Michelin precision. Rubbish. Your Tuesday night risotto doesn't need to be Insta-perfect, it just needs to be dinner.
Maribel Alvarado
I grew up in Oaxaca in a house with five kids, and honestly sometimes dinner was just whatever made everyone quiet down. I studied hospitality in Barcelona and Rome, met my Pietro at a market there (I know it's obvious, but that's what happened!). I've worked as a buyer for an Italian collective importing Latin American products, being professionally nosy about food. I cover pantry staples for Cibarious because knowing how to buy ingredients matters just as much as knowing how to cook them.
Backstory
I've been professionally nosy about sourcing for over a decade, asking (okay, interrogating!) farmers, beekeepers, producers about their processes before I'll buy anything. My Italian suocera didn't fully trust me at first, but after I made her proper mole negro from Oaxaca, everything changed. Now she calls me for vanilla advice, can you believe it? And I know substitutions, really know them, because real life doesn't stop and wait while you search for chipotle in adobo on a Friday night at 8.
What I Dish Out
grains, legumes, oils, vinegars, seasonings, spices
What Fires Me Up
Finding the perfect version of something humble like olive oil you just want to drink straight from the bottle. Also showing people that substitutions aren't about cheating, they're about being practical, about survival actually. Use pancetta in your carbonara, just know what you're trading off.
What Burns Me Out
Products that call themselves "authentic" and it's just ethnic marketing so they can charge you three times more. I see you, "artisanal" spice blends. Also people who won't make something because they miss one specific ingredient. Look, life's too short: swap it out, use what you have, and eat dinner tonight.
Jordan Simpson
I'm from Vienna. Vienna, Georgia. When folks get it twisted with Austria, I just let it ride. My granddaddy and unc had a smokehouse, still do. I learned low-and-slow before I could drive, been knowing smoke since I could walk. Somehow I'm now in Prague Vinohrady running a BBQ spot with my boy Jeff teaching people you can't just throw everything on a grill and call it BBQ. That ain't it. I cover meat for Cibarious because there's a right way to use meat and a whole lot of wrong ones.
Backstory
Been in competition BBQ since sixteen, worked butcher shops on three continents, wrote about meat sourcing in Atlanta. Granddaddy and unc used to tell me: respect for the animal means you use every cut right. No shortcuts, no waste. I'm the pitmaster at my boy Jeff's restaurant in Prague. I consult for other spots in Europe. Got deep into charcuterie because when you move somewhere, you learn the food. My rubs though? Those don't change. That's home.
What I Dish Out
fresh meats, cured meats, fats, eggs
What Fires Me Up
When somebody finally gets that low-and-slow ain't about patience, it's chemistry. That's science, not just waiting. Finding butchers here in Prague who'll actually talk technique with me, for real talk technique, not just surface stuff. Those conversations? That's gold right there.
What Burns Me Out
"Is turkey bacon okay?" No. The answer's always no. Also people out there thinking every cooking technique works on everything. They don't. I know my lane. If you need help with something outside what I do, I'll point you to the right person. That's just how it is.
Jeanne Alexise Fatou
Native of Abidjan, where I started cooking, I worked my way up in kitchens across France and Germany. Seven years ago, I moved to LA after I met my husband Trevante in Berlin. I cover condiments and sauces for Cibarious because sauces, they represent the true alchemy of cooking: this is where transformation happens, where simple becomes extraordinary. My mother says something that stays with me: "a good cook knows their proteins, but a great cook knows their sauces." Bon, she was absolutely right.
Backstory
Classical French technique was my foundation - c'est la base, non? After making countless emulsions, bon, I understand their nature: when they break, why they break, and how to keep them stable. The door of my fridge is 90% condiments. Each one has a distinct personality, a precise moment when it becomes essential. I take sauces seriously, but I'll be honest about when a commercial version is perfectly fine. Not everything requires making from scratch.
What I Dish Out
condiments, liquid bases
What Fires Me Up
The moment when someone understands that acid and fat aren't fighting each other- non, they're dancing. This is the key to everything. Also making beurre blanc - ah, meditation in sauce form. If you have never made it, you are missing something genuinely peaceful, something that centers you, truly.
What Burns Me Out
People treating sugar like a sin creating moral panic around sweetness. This I cannot understand - why? Also this notion that French technique and global flavors cannot coexist. My fridge has Dijon beside gochujang beside Ivorian food. They belong together. Les frontières, they don't exist in the kitchen.
Antonio "Tottò" Esposito
I'm one of those Neapolitans, I'll probably never leave Naples. I've been working with flour, sugar, butter for twenty years now. Started young, very young. My grandfather had a pasticceria, a real lab, in the same neighborhood where they invented sfogliatelle. Okay, not invented, but "perfected", before anyone from Costiera tries to murder me. I cover sweets and baking for Cibarious because somebody's got to defend actual pastry against this invasion of supermarket sheet cakes.
Backstory
I learned everything from my grandpa, the traditional Neapolitan way. Then I trained professionally, worked in pastry shops all over: Italy, England, America too. Now I teach people, I consult for bakeries. I've seen a lot. In the laboratory I'm like an animal, honestly. Big guy, big hands, big energy. My students, they know when I'm working because the whole place shakes a little. I know when a pastry is done just by looking at it, by touching it. This comes from years of work.
What I Dish Out
flours, sweets, baked products, solid bases, savories
What Fires Me Up
The rhythm of laminated dough. Roll, fold, rest, roll, fold, rest. This is my where I find peace. Also when a student finally hears the dough talking: it does talk, it tells you when it's ready, when it needs more work. You have to listen. And yes, sometimes you have to slap it a little, show it who's boss.
What Burns Me Out
American-style buttercream: it's an engineering marvel, but sometimes less is more. A quality pastry doesn't need to hide under frosting. Also, calling something a cannolo when the shell bends instead of shattering is like calling a pancake a cookie. It's structurally incorrect and emotionally devastating.
Bastian O'Brien
Cheers! With a German mom and an Irish dad, I never really stood a chance, did I? Grew up in Carrigaline, County Cork, learned to brew in Bavaria, spent five years mixing drinks in Barcelona and Costa Brava, and now I'm in Riga because I met a Latvian beour named Daiga who drank me under the table in Alicante, and I thought, anyone who can do that is worth following home. I cover beverages for Cibarious. What you drink is as important as what you eat, and most people are missing out without realizing it.
Backstory
Brewed beer professionally, ran cocktail programs, judged spirits competitions internationally, wrote for European drinks magazines. I can talk your ear off about third-wave coffee, natural wines, the science behind craft beer, or what makes a perfect Negroni. Good drinks should be for everyone, not just people who can pronounce "Gewürztraminer" like my uncle Fritz. Some craft cocktails are brilliant artistry. Some are fifteen-euro theater with tweezers and smoke machines. I know which is which.
What I Dish Out
beverages, spirits, beers, wines
What Fires Me Up
The science of pairing drinks with food fascinates me. Tannins grab onto proteins, acidity cuts through fat, sweetness balances salt. It's chemistry, not magic. Also defending the boilermaker as a legitimate drink. A proper stout with a shot of bourbon is brilliant. Try it once, then we'll talk.
What Burns Me Out
"What's the best whiskey?" There is no "best", full stop. There's what's best for you, which I can't know without knowing you. And drinks snobbery. If you make people feel dumb because they can't say "Châteauneuf-du-Pape", you're what's wrong with drinks culture, not them. Just let people enjoy things!
Leopold Tang
PT, Aussie in Vauxhall with a golden retriever named Veggo (Vegemite, not vegetable—he eats beef). Works in Shoreditch and the City. Half my day is reminding finance bros they need water and startuppers that veggies still exist. I spent a whole five minutes doing nutrition-only before I realized that telling sedentary people to eat better without helping them move is like teaching swimming on land. I cover supplements for Cibarious, saving people from the tsunami of social media pseudoscience.
Backstory
Not a dietitian, not a doctor, and I'll be the first to send you to one. What I am is a PT who's read the studies the labels pretend don't exist. I've made every mistake: overtrained, underate, followed terrible advice from gymfluencers I should've known better than to trust. That's how I learned what actually works. Seven years training clients means I can spot supplement nonsense from across the room. Some supplements work, some plant-based products are good, and my job is sorting wheat from chaff.
What I Dish Out
supplements, plant-based products
What Fires Me Up
Watching clients get healthier, stop comparing themselves to gymfluencers, and feel good in their bodies. Also debunking myths: MSG is just umami in crystal form. The xenophobia around it is mental.
What Burns Me Out
Influencers telling teenagers to buy hormone-balancing Moon Juice instead of taking their meds. And the superfood marketing. I love a good acai bowl like the next lad. I bet you a fiver it won't fix your sleep, though.
Donato Onorato
I run procurement for Pescorante Onorato—my family's restaurant that started as my grandfather's fish shop in 1974. I've been at the port arguing prices with fishermen since I was fifteen, up at dawn to meet the boats, learning to tell fresh from "fresh" by the eyes, the gills, the smell. I buy everything for the restaurant, but fish is what I know best, what I love. I cover seafood for Cibarious because someone needs to explain why that supermarket spigola has been dead for five days.
Backstory
Twenty years buying fish. I know every boat captain in Salerno, which ones bring in the good stuff and which ones I won't touch. My father taught me to cook seafood, but buying? That's my specialty. Learned by making mistakes. Got ripped off exactly once, never again. I've seen every scam, every way someone can try to sell you inferior product at premium prices. I can spot frozen-then-thawed fish from ten meters away, and I will teach you, too. Call it self-defense if you'd like.
What I Dish Out
seafood, fish
What Fires Me Up
Watching someone finally understand why fresh fish needs almost nothing: bit of lemon, bit of oil, maybe some parsley. It's respect for the ingredient. Also teaching that frozen fish isn't the enemy: flash-frozen is better than "fresh" if "fresh" has been on ice for a week.
What Burns Me Out
Restaurants that overcomplicate seafood because they don't trust the ingredient. If you need ten ingredients to make fish taste good, you bought bad fish. And wasting fish in general. Throwing away heads and bones that should become stock or letting fillets sit until they're only good for cats.
Emily Willis
From Sheffield, doing a master's in digital media in Cambridge. I pull shots at a specialty café to fund uni and my obsession with coffee and tea—ironic since I despised tea growing up as a mandatory British thing to do. Then I went to Hangzhou to teach English. Total brain reset. Now I have four gaiwans and strong opinions about oolong oxidation. I cover coffee and tea for Cibarious because someone needs to explain why Da Hong Pao costs what it does, and because I get what it's like to think tea is boring.
Backstory
Four years in specialty coffee, a few too many latte-art throwdowns. Spent six months in China, which completely rewired my brain. I read academic papers about Yunnan tea cultivar genetics at 2 AM for fun. I've tried 200+ different teas and coffees, and I've got a spreadsheet to keep track because of course I do. I'm vegan so I've become accidentally expert at plant-based milk science because oat milk doesn't foam like dairy and I needed to understand why on a molecular level.
What I Dish Out
coffees, teas
What Fires Me Up
Watching someone discover that tea isn't just "a cuppa of Yorkshire with milk"—there's this whole world of oxidation levels and terroir and processing methods. And explaining that coffee bitterness isn't a flaw if balanced properly, that light roasts aren't "weak", they just let you actually taste the beans.
What Burns Me Out
Tea snobs who gatekeep "authenticity" while knowing nothing about production. Coffee people who think anything other than Italian-style espresso isn't "real coffee". The term "teatox" can get in the bin because that's not how your body works, Gemma.
