That is the view of Italian chef and Stockfish Ambassador Daniel Canzian. For him, food is about much more than taste.
“For me, it is important to communicate that we eat not only because food tastes good, but because it does us good,” says Canzian.
For the Stockfish Ambassador, “doing good” carries a deeper meaning. It is about nutrition, history, craftsmanship, and the social significance of the food we eat.
We first meet Daniel Canzian during the winter, at the restaurant that bears his name.
White tablecloths, understated elegance, a large open kitchen, and the hum of guests filling the room around us. Just a short walk away lies La Scala. In the heart of Milan's fashion district, he serves dishes that reflect his upbringing in Veneto, drawing on memories of grandmothers, local markets, and Fridays centred around fish.
A Dish That Brings People Together
In Veneto, Friday is fish day. And when people talk about fish here, they usually mean stockfish.
Canzian grew up in Conegliano Veneto, a town nestled at the foot of the Prosecco Hills in northern Italy. Here, stockfish has long been a natural part of everyday life. Not as a luxury product or a sophisticated restaurant concept, but as something that brought, and still brings, people together.
He recalls a childhood where stockfish was left to soak in running water in the village square, gradually softening in anticipation of Friday. Every Friday, people from across the village would gather at the market. Young and old alike met neighbours and old friends, chatted over an espresso, and did their shopping for the weekend. For most families, that meant buying stockfish.
“It was a social ritual, and stockfish was at the centre of it all.”
The Stockfish Ambassador also recalls how every village had its own recipe, and every grandmother her own closely guarded stockfish secret.
Perhaps most importantly, he remembers how food took time. His grandmother, or nonna as he called her, would always leave the pot until the next day.
“She used to say it tasted better that way. And she was right,” he says.
Still Loyal to an Old Cookbook
Daniel Canzian still keeps his nonna’s cookbook from the 1960s close at hand.
When Canzian talks about his grandmother, he is not only talking about food. He is talking about knowledge. About traditions passed down from one generation to the next.
He flips through an old Italian cookbook from the 1960s. Worn and well used, with no glossy photographs, it is filled with regional recipes and stories from Italian homes. It is the book he still turns to. He speaks of its faded pages almost as if they were a member of the family, almost as if they were nonna herself.
“What I learned from my nonna may be more important than what I have learned from great international chefs,” he says.
Little Daniel grew up to become a chef. Not just any chef, but one of Milan’s most recognised culinary figures. Today, he is also President of Jeunes Restaurateurs, the international association of young chefs and restaurateurs, and a food influencer with thousands of followers.
A Composer of Stockfish Dishes
As a young man, Daniel Canzian travelled across Italy to learn his craft before finding a mentor near Brescia, a highly respected chef who taught him that food is about more than technique.
“You should not simply sing the songs. You should compose them,” his mentor told him.
It took time for him to understand what that meant.
Today, he does.
When Canzian talks about stockfish, it is rarely just about flavour. He talks about respect for the raw ingredient. About the story behind the product. About food that should not only taste good, but do good in more ways than one. Together, these elements can become a symphony.
“If we do not give value to a dish, it becomes nothing more than food we eat to survive,” he says.
At Ristorante Daniel Canzian in Milan, stockfish features on the menu every Friday. Guests are served a dedicated baccalà menu, a tribute to the tradition he grew up with. Interest among the city’s diners continues to grow, and securing a table has become increasingly difficult.
First Time in Lofoten
“I will definitely be back in Lofoten,” says the Stockfish Ambassador, who was impressed by both the dramatic landscape and the centuries old stockfish tradition.“
The next time we speak with the Stockfish Ambassador from Milan, he is in Lofoten, surrounded by mountains, sea spray and towering stockfish racks. It is June, and the weather is at its very best. The sun shines day and night.
This time, he is visiting with the Norwegian Seafood Council to learn more about the product he has worked with for much of his life.
The experience leaves a lasting impression.
He has never been to Norway before.
“I never imagined it would be this beautiful,” he says.
During his visit, he tours the producer Sufi and learns how every fish is handled by hand, again and again, throughout the entire journey from skrei to stockfish. He samples stockfish the Norwegian way and presents his own stockfish pesto at Fangst Restaurant at Hattvika Lodge. He visits Nusfjord, where small fishing villages wear their history with pride, and tries his hand at fishing for the very first time, successfully.
A Pride That Runs Deep
It is not only the scenery that leaves an impression.
It is the pride.
“People speak about their product with such pride,” he says with a smile, visibly moved by the experience.
He describes stockfish production as an ecosystem where everything happens naturally, just as it always has. Wind, sea, temperature and time. No shortcuts. No technology pushing the process forward.
Perhaps that is why the journey has affected him so deeply.
Even after working with stockfish for many years, he feels the product has gained an even greater value in his eyes.
“We need people to understand what lies behind the food they eat,” he repeats.
In the restaurant industry, he sees an endless stream of chains and concepts where menus increasingly resemble one another. Trends come and go. Fusion cuisine. New techniques. New expressions.
Yet his own focus is less on reinventing stockfish and more on refining it. He prefers the natural and the simple. He wants to preserve the history, the craftsmanship, the traditions and the families gathered around the table.
And when asked what he most strongly associates with the word stockfish, his answer is not “flavour”, “restaurant” or even “skrei”. It is:
“Family. Relaxation. Enjoying time together.”
