I was born in the Marche, twenty-five kilometers from the sea, in a family where meat was not a product but a ritual. Sundays meant my grandparents’ farm: the animals raised on the land, the cuts prepared by hand, the long evenings around the grill where the elders taught us that fire, salt and patience are all a great piece of beef ever asks for.

I left to study management in London — and I learned something no business school teaches: that the rest of the world was eating better beef than we were told existed. Argentine parrillas, Spanish asadores, London’s aged-beef temples. I travelled across Europe with a notebook and an appetite, and I came home with one idea.

In Fano I opened Kilometro 25: a steakhouse where tradition meets what I had seen abroad. We built our own dry-aging cellar, sourced from Galicia, Japan, the American Midwest and our neighbours’ pastures in the Marche, and grilled every cut for the toughest critics there are — the people at our tables. Today Kilometro 25 is recognized among the best in the Marche for the quality of its meat.

Steakhouse 25 is the next kilometer of that journey: the same cuts, the same cellar, the same hands — delivered to your door, wherever in the world your table is.