'I come from a family of five, plus mum and dad. There was not a lot of money . . . and of course all our friends had Levi jeans and Nike shoes, so I went to my dad and said that I wanted these things, too.'

He said: ‘That’s a lot of money, you need to find a job’. Of course he was joking . . . I was eight! But there was my uncle, and he’s got this beautiful, massive ice cream shop. So I went to him and said I wanted a job because I need to buy these things.

He said: ‘Ok, you start tomorrow at eight o'clock’. He was joking as well. But the day after I was there at eight o'clock, and I started making ice cream. The real ice cream. The real gelato.'

'I remember the first ice cream I ever made was hazelnut. I was cracking one big bag of Nocciola Piemonte – the nice big ones – and the rule was for every nine hazelnuts the tenth one was supposed to be with the skin on – to give the right colour, the right balance. That was the rule . . . I was made to do 10kg. It was a nightmare. I don’t know how many times I cracked my finger!'

'Uncle was quite tough. I remember him having a sleep in the afternoon with the mixing bowl next to him, and he was saying: ‘Francesco, switch off the mixer’ – knowing when it was ready, just by the sound of it. I wish I had that talent. Now we need the recipe . . . in those days there was no recipe. Just the things you were feeling. Pure artisan.'