I’m in Hong Kong for work, I’m cooking until Sunday at Tosca, a restaurant in the Ritz Carlton, with my crew from Reale and chef Pino Lavarra. The jet lag won’t let me sleep, so I’m thinking about broth. In the course of just a few days, it came up unexpectedly in two completely different contexts, and when something like that happens it’s never a coincidence. Right before leaving for China, I was with the Neapolitan gallerist Lia Rumma, a witty and magnetic woman with an incredible intuition: she recalled a chicken broth she’d made for William Kentridge, which brought to mind a broth I’d made at Casadonna for Ettore Spalletti, a great Abruzzese artist, reticent and profound, whom we both love.