Giacomo Brunco
He went from practising law in Thailand to revolutionising sushi in Ibiza. Giacomo Brunco not only cuts fish, he also breaks the mould. At his restaurant Sushimi (in San Antonio), fish is dry-aged, stuffed and reinvented. Instead of selling luxury and entertainment, he offers experience, philosophy and, above all, truth.
Giacomo, you used to be a lawyer and now you're a chef. How do you explain this combination?
It sounds strange. I know! I studied law and was a lawyer for eight years in Thailand, but I hated it. I couldn't continue absorbing other people's problems every day. At 30, I decided to change my life radically. I trained at ALMA, the school founded by Gualtiero Marchesi, the godfather of Italian cuisine. There I learned that cooking can be art, technique and culture.
And how did you end up making sushi on the island of Ibiza?
I started with Mediterranean haute cuisine, but life led me to sushi. My ex-wife, who was Thai, worked at a sushi restaurant in Italy. One day we saw a place for sale in Ibiza and decided to take the plunge. She knew how to do the rolls, while I had the technique and vision. After we separated in the second year after opening, I stayed with Sushimi and decided to give it its own soul. I've been doing this for seven years now.
Su Roll and Spicy Tuna
This year you've changed the restaurant dramatically. What's your new approach?
A complete revolution. I locked myself away completely alone during the winter, studied and experimented. And a new philosophy was born with three pillars: fish dry-ageing, marine charcuterie, and making the most of the product. The slogan is clear: “Fresh is boring”.
“Fresh is boring”? Isn't that heresy in a sushi restaurant?
It looks like it, but it isn't. Freshness is an unfounded obsession. Dry-ageing fish (similar to dry-ageing meat) enhances taste, texture, everything. My reference is Josh Niland. Dry-ageing removes excess moisture and reveals the fish at its best. I haven't used "basic" fresh fish for months.
Sushimi is my truth, and cooking is an intimate act
And you've even ventured into marine charcuterie...
Inspired by Ángel León ("the chef of the sea"), I started to treat fish as meat. I make marine charcuterie with the parts that many people throw away. I transform the pieces into marine cold cuts and unique dishes. Spain has an impressive charcuterie culture; I just add the marine touch.
Is this how you apply the sustainability concept at your restaurant?
Yes. Because I use all the parts of a fish. You can't just eat the loin and throw the rest away. It's like slaughtering a pig and using only the tenderloin. You don't throw away any part of the pork, so you shouldn't throw away any part of the fish either. I make dishes with collars, charcuterie with heads and Venetian-style livers. It's a question of both ethics and taste. There are "humble" cuts with more fat, more umami, more truth.
There's also a lot of aesthetic creativity. Can you tell us about your star dish?
Yes, for me the aesthetics are fundamental. Currently, my star dish is a tiradito of dry-aged white fish (hamachi, meagre or sea bass), inspired by the painter Pollock and his dripping technique. I use five sauces: coconut milk (Thailand), mango and passion fruit vinaigrette, squid ink, candied ginger and chives. Each one provides colour, flavour and emotion. The dish is a canvas, both literally and metaphorically.
And what about the cocktails?
Cocktails are another way of conveying my philosophy. We don't have decorative cocktails, each one has a story. For example, “Checkmate” is made with yerba mate as a tribute to the Argentinean culture that has contributed so much to me personally. Another of our cocktails is "Love and Passion", a mixture of soft love and frothy passion. They are all between 10 and 12 euros, i.e. accessible luxury, without posturing.
Dinning room
Speaking of luxury, aren't you tempted to open at Botafoc?
I can open anywhere, as long as my philosophy remains intact. I don't serve sushi covered in gold. I don't want people coming to post Stories just to show off. I want diners who eat, think and feel. I want those who are looking for something real. I'm in San Antonio by choice, not by chance.
What are you trying to offer to those who walk through Sushimi's doors?
A soulful experience. I don't want them to just say "it was good", I want them to leave transformed. I want them to remember Ibiza for this. Sushimi is my truth, and cooking is an intimate act. I touch something that someone else is going to eat. There is energy in that. And if you transmit this with light, the diners notice it.
