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n his series, Rocco chats with locals, shifting effortlessly from Italian to English, plays keep-up on the beach with friends, admires plum tomatoes at a local street market, and whips up a perfect sauce recipe in about five minutes flat. He admits that many are cliché takes on the Italian way of living, but maintains there’s always truth behind them. Despite the fact that his name is now part of a brand that brings to mind all the alluring aspects of the old country, David Rocco wasn’t always comfortable with growing up Italian in Canada.
David Rocco never anticipated he would wind up a chef, let alone a celebrity chef whose worldwide hit television programs are seen in more than 150 countries. With his charming personality and fresh-faced good looks, a teenaged Rocco naturally fell into the realm of acting and modelling, and found himself particularly drawn to film production and direction. His television debut did not find him donning an apron, but instead (much to his amusement) opposite Neve Campbell in a Tampax commercial. It wasn’t until he and his high school sweetheart – turned wife, Nina, began living on and off in Italy, that the two were inspired to document their travels on film. This was just the beginning of their journey into the newly emerging genre of food television. Grabbing a secluded table in the lounge at Yorkville’s ONE restaurant, I hardly notice that Rocco has breezed past the entrance and made his way over. I barely recognize him at first glance. He’s clad in denim from head to toe – a thin, faded denim button-down, with a pair of jeans in a slightly darker wash – a look that could easily become a complete disaster if not put together properly. But Rocco pulls the look off with ease – unsurprising, since he has been named one of “Canada’s Top Ten Style Makers” by Flare magazine. He concludes the ensemble with black sunglasses, a half-dozen beaded bracelets, and a pair of bright yellow Hogan sneakers. He’s buoyant but maintains a calm, unruffled demeanour, leaning back easily into his seat and removing his sunglasses. He’s just as charming and charismatic in front of me as he appears on his show – something he credits to his self-proclaimed “disarming smile.” He apologizes for his appearance, as if there’s anything to apologize for. He’s exhausted, he explains, after spending the past weekend visiting with family and celebrating Father’s Day with his children. But at the mention of his son, he perks right up. “My son is so funny. Dante’s the shit!” he exclaims, a mischievous grin forming on his face, likely recalling a particularly cheeky memory. Drawing comparisons between himself and his son, he explains that, like Dante (who arrived a few years after his twin sisters, Emma and Giorgia), Rocco was also the youngest of three children. “It’s funny because if we give him [Dante] a plate of pasta and it’s not full enough, he gets upset with us. And I remember I used to be like that - I wanted my plate filled to capacity, I
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wanted seconds! Now I see my son and I kind of smile because he’s a big foodie, too.” Growing up in what Rocco describes as a typical, dysfunctional (but happy) Italian family, it’s not surprising that some of his fondest memories are centred around food. He smirks, noting this sounds slightly cliché, but it’s the truth. “I grew up in an Anglo-Saxon neighbourhood – Scarborough in the ‘70s. I felt like Mike Meyers in Wayne’s World. That was my world.” “Most people don’t expect to hear that about my childhood. I was always embarrassed to be the Italian on the street.” This seems like an unbelievable revelation when I think of all that Rocco embodies today. Embarrassed of being Italian? “Friends of mine had dogs and cats for pets, and I always wished to have one. My friend Mark, had a pet rabbit, and my family had rabbits too,” he explains. “Though, they weren’t our pets, they ended up on our dinner table.” “I remember having him [Mark] and his family over for dinner one night. They complimented my mother on how delicious the chicken tasted. And my mom goes, ‘Oh no, it’s rabbit!’ Here we are eating someone’s fucking pet for supper! Talk about a culture shock.” Though they certainly could never be described as underprivileged, Rocco often felt like he was labelled as the son of poor immigrants and it embarrassed him. Although the shadow of this stereotype was cast onto Rocco, the reality was quite the opposite. His parents were both successful hairdressers, allowing the family to travel often, visiting their hometown of Naples nearly every year. He played in sports leagues and even went to Disneyland. The feeling of inadequacy didn’t stem from a comparison of wealth, but a desire to assimilate into the “mungicake” culture. Furrowing his brow, he silently calls to mind dormant memories from his childhood, taking his time before sharing them aloud. “I’d have kids ask me, why do you have to make your own wine? Or why do you make your own tomato sauce?” he shares. “Can’t you afford to go to the grocery store and buy some? That was where lines were drawn. Of course we could afford to buy sauce or wine at the grocery store, but that wasn’t the point. And
I grew up in an Anglo-Saxon neighbourhood – Scarborough in the ‘70s. I felt like Mike Meyers in Wayne’s World. That was my world.” when you’re six [or] seven years old, that kind of stuff leaves an impression on you.” Growing up in a traditional Italian household instilled many values deep within himself, values that are still with him to this day and that he will instill in his own children. The most important one, in Rocco’s opinion, is the importance of food. Simply, it brings people together – family and friends, strangers, even – you get to know another person when you share a meal with them. For Italians, dinnertime is paramount. “Sunday lunch, having dinner as a family every night, was really sacred. There were no iPhones back then, but there was certainly the TV. And we weren’t allowed to have it on, there was