On Sunday mornings when he was growing up in Calabria, Antonio Mermolia's father would make zabaglione, whisking eggs and adding coffee. It was a simple ritual that became a cherished memory over the years. Today, Mermolia does not recreate that exact recipe, but he carries its memory into his cooking through a white chocolate and coffee sauce. It is one of the ways his past continues to find its way onto the plate, even thousands of miles from home.

Originally from Gioia Tauro, in Italy's southern Calabria region, Mermolia arrived in the United States in 2011. From New York to Miami and eventually Washington, he has built a career that brought him to the kitchen at Fiola, one of the Capital's prominent Italian restaurants. His journey has also brought significant recognition: Fiola has held a Michelin star since 2017, and in 2023 Mermolia was named Chef of the Year in the World by Gambero Rosso. Yet the heart of his story lies beyond professional achievements. It is rooted in his determination to preserve the authenticity of Italian cuisine in a country where, in his view, an appreciation for Italian food does not always come with a deep understanding of its traditions.

"When I arrived in America, I was fairly well prepared because I came from Italy, but I had no idea how different the restaurant business would be. I had a lot to learn," he says. "Every experience taught me something, starting with my first opportunity. An American entrepreneur brought me over from Italy and had the confidence to put me in charge of a restaurant, even though I had no experience in the American market." That trust marked the beginning of a journey shaped by opportunities, challenges and professional growth. After New York, Mermolia spent five years in Miami before moving to Washington, where he has now worked for another five years.

Three different cities, each with their own cultural and culinary landscape, pushed him to keep learning and adapting. "There wasn't one single turning point. It was a series of experiences that helped me understand American culture," he explains. "I developed step by step, until I reached where I am today." For Mermolia, the biggest challenge was not adapting to a new country. It was doing so without compromising the principles that defined his identity as a chef.

"The hardest part is staying true to the authenticity of Italian cuisine. In a country with so many different cultures, people don't always have a deep understanding of our food, and there is often a superficial idea of what Italian cuisine really is," he says. His response has been to stand firm on ingredients, recipes and the way he builds his menus, even when catering to market expectations might have seemed like the easier path.

"I have always tried to stay true to myself, without taking shortcuts that might have helped me in the short term but would not have served me in the long run. I've been stubborn about defending Italian cuisine and refusing to let outside influences change it," he says. "I've had to fight to protect what is authentic, to avoid things like chicken on pasta or fettuccine Alfredo and, above all, to keep my cooking from becoming Americanized." Over time, that stance has become an integral part of his work. At Fiola, Mermolia feels he now has the space to fully express his culinary vision. Rather than distancing him from his origins, his experience in America has strengthened his connection to them.

"Throughout this journey, I've actually become even more Italian," he says. His roots, however, extend beyond Calabria where he was born and raised. His cooking also reflects his mother's ties to the Amalfi Coast and the experiences he gained in Sicily. Together, these places, flavors and memories form the foundation of his culinary identity. "Today, living in America, my home territory is my memory. What I carry with me is something I cannot forget, because it is my compass," he explains.

Alongside his father's zabaglione, pizza holds a special place in his personal history. His love for it began in childhood and has since become a source of creative inspiration. One of his more recent creations is a Margherita pizza risotto, designed to capture the familiar flavors of traditional pizza in a different dish. The goal is not simply to reproduce a recipe, but to reinterpret its memory without losing its essence. That balance runs through his entire philosophy: finding new ways to create while remaining connected to the story that shaped him.

The differences between the cities where he has worked have helped define that approach. New York, he says, was where he found it easiest to introduce the flavors of Southern Italy, in part because of communities with longstanding ties to southern Italian immigration. "In New York, it was easier to talk about broccoli rabe, sausage, 'nduja and all those dishes that represented me," he recalls. Miami required a different kind of adjustment. Its year-round warm weather, tropical ingredients and customer base called for another way of approaching Italian cuisine.

Mermolia says he found high-quality ingredients in Miami that allowed him to convey the flavors of the Mediterranean, even in a setting where he felt knowledge of Italian culinary traditions was less extensive. Washington, by contrast, offered him a new perspective. The changing seasons influenced how he structured his menus, while what he describes as a more sophisticated culinary scene pushed him to develop more substantial offerings, especially during the colder months.

"Here, the challenge has been to bring Mediterranean cooking and its freshness to the table. Compared with Miami, I've become even more connected to tradition, partly because there is a greater need to give the menu more structure," he explains. Along the way, Mermolia has also witnessed a broader transformation in Americans' relationship with food. Since his arrival in 2011, he believes there has been growing attention to ingredient quality and greater curiosity about culinary traditions.

"America has made incredible strides. There are many places serving excellent Italian food, but what's interesting is seeing how many Americans have become passionate about it," he says. "There are chefs who travel to Italy, study traditional recipes, work there and then return to the United States to reinterpret what they have learned. It's wonderful to see." For Mermolia, an Italian chef working abroad also carries a cultural responsibility. A dish can become a way to tell the story of a place, pass on a tradition and introduce people from different backgrounds to another country's culture.

"I don't know how to cook in a way that doesn't represent my story and my territory. It's the only way for me not to lose myself, and it's also what continues to give me ideas and inspiration," he says. That belief informs his conviction that Italian restaurants abroad should maintain a particularly clear connection to their origins, even in the simplest dishes. "When that same tradition isn't already there, it's even more important to make people feel the Italian identity. If I go to a Japanese restaurant in America, I want to experience the flavors of Japan. In the same way, people who walk into an Italian restaurant should be able to feel Italy," he says.

Defending tradition, however, does not mean rejecting experimentation. Mermolia distinguishes between respecting one's roots and becoming so nostalgic that cuisine risks standing still. "We have to protect our Made in Italy products and our culture, but we cannot be nostalgic all the time. We have to keep pushing ourselves to grow, experiment and improve our cuisine, always with the greatest respect for our history."

It is a vision that brings memory and change together: tradition as a starting point for creating something new, rather than a collection of recipes to repeat without questioning how they fit into the present. For a chef who has spent fifteen years in the United States, that balance also reflects a personal journey — building a life far from home without abandoning the things that shaped him.

His future, meanwhile, remains open. Mermolia's career has developed largely in America, where his professional roots have grown increasingly strong, but the idea of returning to Italy one day remains with him. "I don't want to put limits on myself. The dream of returning to Italy is always there, and I haven't ruled it out," he says. "Right now, I'm very busy and I take life one day at a time. I'm not someone who makes long-term plans, especially because life can change from one day to the next."

For now, Washington is where he continues to build his career. Italy, however, remains a constant presence: in the family he left behind, in the flavors of his childhood and in the memories that continue to guide his choices in the kitchen. Those seemingly small recollections are also what keep him connected to his origins. Like the zabaglione his father made on Sunday mornings, they have become much more than a recipe — they are the symbol of a personal story that crossed an ocean without losing sight of where it began.