In Turin at the beginning of the 20th century, the meal of the upper middle class follows a precise order: antipasti (small savory bites, including the famous grissini), a primo (stuffed pasta or risotto), a secondo of meat with seasonal vegetables, then dolci and fruit. But the life of a scholar is punctuated mainly by breaks at café counters — where one takes an espresso or a bicerin — and by small pick-me-ups at home. It is this alternation between structured family meals and coffee rituals that sets the rhythm of the day.

Two Piedmontese signatures intersect in Gentili's life: the salted anchovy brought up from Genoa along the ancient salt routes (acciuga, soul of bagna càuda), and the black coffee of Turin's counters, inseparable from intellectual work. One salty and powerful, the other bitter and stimulating.