Thanks Dad

Today is Father's Day in Italy, and it is high time I translate this thank you letter I wrote to my late father, Giuseppe (Beppe) Viarengo, into English. In the past, I dedicated an article to my mom, where I collected the most important life lessons she taught me. Unfortunately, these things are often said, let alone written, until it is too late, as was the case with my father. But the time has come to write down and share the teachings of my dad—for me, for my children, and for all those who knew him.

Passion and Quality

Passion is not taught; it is transmitted. My father exuded passion in everything he did, but the most vivid memory I have is his passion for baking. Every loaf of bread, focaccia, pizza, panettone, or cake that came out of the oven had to be special. He never skimped on ingredients, always seeking the best oil and quality flour. He never used chemical additives, always rediscovering traditional methods while embracing progress in technology, equipment, and customer service.

When a batch of dough turned out bad, hell broke loose. And when it was good, his eyes sparkled with happiness—every day, every dough, every loaf of bread. At the time, I often thought his obsession with quality was a bit exaggerated. Only now do I understand the importance of the lesson I unknowingly learned. Working with passion is rewarding and makes time fly.

Customers and make a good impression

My dad used to pamper his customers. I remember him watching them leave the bakery, observing if they smiled, if they stopped to pay him compliments, if they had a positive experience at the counter, if they returned the next day, or if they came back after holidays. He knew many of them by name. Every now and then, he would surprise them by appearing in the middle of the counter with a basket of hot bread or a freshly baked focaccia, not only to gauge their reactions but also to create a homely atmosphere where customers felt at ease, welcome, and almost part of the family.

Marketing

My dad didn't know it, but he was a marketing expert. He didn't call it that; he referred to it as "always making a good impression." He believed in creating a quality product, offering panettone as a gift to the best customers, providing free tasting samples to everyone, and opening a window at the back of the shop so customers could see the hygiene and cleanliness of the machinery and workers.

He studied customer habits and even checked the weekend weather forecast to plan how much dough to prepare. For a craftsman, he was remarkably innovative. But one thing he understood before Steve Jobs, Seth Godin, and other marketing experts did: the best marketing is creating a special, high-quality product that people talk about.

Work Ethic

My father would wake up at 1 a.m., work until 11 a.m., grab a quick bite to eat, and then nap in the afternoon. In the evening, he would have a small dinner and go to bed for a few hours, and the cycle would continue. On Saturdays (the so-called double day because we would close on Sundays), he would start kneading at 10:30 p.m. on Friday night and work until 11 a.m. on Saturday. Six days a week, 12 months a year, except for 2 weeks of vacation.

Despite the demanding work with long and unusual hours, similar to my mom, I never heard him complain about his job. It was not a burden to him; it was his passion more than a duty. I, too, have always pursued jobs that I liked and was passionate about. Luck? Perhaps, or more simply, the result of following my father's example.

Money

This is another great lesson: you never work for the money; you work to pursue a dream and make a good impression. Money is a consequence. Money comes with the success of making customers happy. Working solely for the money is sad; it makes you constantly check the clock, waiting for the day to end. If you work to achieve a goal, pursue a passion, and make a good impression, time flies. In my career, whenever I found myself working solely for the money—and it happened a couple of times—I quit, changed jobs, and it always worked out for the best. Thanks, Dad!

Change and Risk

My dad changed jobs several times in his life. As a young man, he helped his grandfather Valentino in Azzano d'Asti at the family cabinet-making shop, but it wasn't a very profitable job at the time. In the late 1950s, they moved to Genoa, a much bigger city, where they opened a laundry and later a bakery. It was there that he developed a passion for what Italians call the "White Art," which refers to baking. However, even that business wasn't very profitable at the time, and there were no health insurance or social security benefits. So, he decided to go back to school and become a train engineer—a safer job with retirement and various benefits. After years of working for the railroad, he realized that with a fixed salary, he wouldn't be able to ensure a comfortable future for my sister and me. In 1976, he decided to return to the "White Art" and take over a large bakery. His dream was to buy a bakery in an area with heavy foot traffic. He purchased a bakery in via Macelli di Soziglia in Genoa, which, at that time, was bustling with people. It was a significant investment for our finances back then—80 million Liras (around $40K), which was equivalent to 2 pounds of IOUs bills, about 40 times our savings. He took on a massive and daunting debt. The lesson is clear: you have to take risks to create opportunities; you have to invest in yourself, question yourself, and be willing to learn and improve. In other words, a great lesson in entrepreneurship. The bakery business thrived under my dad's management, benefiting my family.

My wife, Paola, and I have had our share of changes as well—from starting my small software company in Genoa, to selling it and moving to Boston, and then arriving in California after a year in Seattle. One thing I'm certain of: the changes are not over.

Learn and Improve

My dad enjoyed learning new things and was always seeking to improve himself and the things around him. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to reinvent himself throughout his various and successful careers.

The bakeries he owned were always at the cutting edge of equipment and machinery, and he was continuously searching for new recipes. I remember one summer when he had me work for free in someone else's bakery to learn how to make ciabatta bread. In that case, he wanted to improve himself by encouraging me to learn new things.

Leadership and Appreciating Others

In general, my father did not speak ill of anyone. He always looked for the best in people—their strengths. This is a fairly modern lesson in leadership and management. Focusing on people's qualities is much more effective than trying to correct their shortcomings. It came naturally to him. I remember that my father referred to all the people he particularly respected as "Artists." "That person is a Focaccia artist, and that one is a mason artist," he would say. He was always seeking and enhancing the talent of others. Appreciating others is contagious, and others appreciate you in return. This is true leadership. When a leader becomes a servant to the team, it creates energy and harmony. Wherever my father was involved, this was present. There was a team.

Family, Selflessness and Problem Solving

Lastly, family. My father belonged to a generation where playing with children was not a priority. I didn't fully grasp that. Nevertheless, I never had the slightest doubt that everything he did was solely for the well-being and progress of the family—not just the immediate family, but the extended family as well. "Beppe" was the family member who solved problems. The more complicated the problems, the more he liked them, the more passionate he became. He was a pillar for the entire family.

My dad always prioritized others. Maybe too much. People enjoyed working with him. Employees were treated like family, and food was provided free for all employees—35 years before Google "invented" free food.

Thanks Dad

When we're young, it's difficult to fully appreciate our parents and everything they do for us. It's a shame, but that's the way it is. Now that I have white hair, I see everything much more clearly, and I thank the universe for giving me two parents who taught us so much and sacrificed themselves for my sister and me. Dad, you left us when I was still too foolish, immature, or proud to tell you, but today, I appreciate every single thing you taught me. Many haven't been as fortunate and have had to learn these lessons from books, university lectures, and business administration programs. I learned them in the back shop of a bakery on via dei Macelli di Soziglia in Genoa, Italy, and I apply them every day at work, with my family and friends. In everything I do, I can see the imprint of Grandfather Beppe. It brings me joy to know that you continue to live on in all of this, in all of us, in every dough I make and share with Laura, Luca, and Paola, and even on the pages of my baking blog .?

Thanks Dad'.

I love you.?

Vittorio