Luca Pasqualino

Born to Italian parents, this guy’s got roots that run deep—like, Sicilian on his dad’s side and Neapolitan blood from his mom. Family gatherings? Probably loud, a little chaotic, and bursting with food (honestly, can you imagine Sunday dinner?). His father’s people came from Sicily, that island with the volcanoes and the best cannoli you’ll ever taste, while his mother’s clan hails from Naples—home of pizza and some seriously passionate folks. Growing up in that mix, he definitely got a double shot of Italian culture: the hand gestures, the traditions, the endless stories about the old country. Maybe even a few heated debates about whether Sicilian or Neapolitan cuisine rules the kitchen (spoiler: it’s a toss-up). Those roots, they’re not just in his last name—they shape everything, from the way he talks to the way he loves. And honestly? That combo, it’s pure gold.

Growing up in Peterborough with Italian roots? Man, food was just the glue that held everything together. My mum’s family hails from Naples, and my dad’s crew is all about that Sicilian life, so you can bet there was never a dull meal. Family dinners? Those were basically our sport. You’d have a table groaning under mountains of pasta, heaps of antipasto, sizzling meats, fresh fish—plus, wine flowing like it was on tap. And it wasn’t just some childhood phase either; it’s still how we roll. Honestly, all those flavors, the chaos, the long laughs, the yelling over who gets the last meatball—totally shaped who I am. The kitchen was always packed, people stealing bites, arguing about recipes, everyone talking at once. It’s not just food, it’s a way of life, and I wouldn’t swap it for anything. That’s my family’s heartbeat—coming together, eating, loving, living loud.