I met Ludovico on a Saturday night out in Paris.
One of the first things I remember noticing about him was an Instagram account linked in his bio, separate from his personal one. It seemed to be dedicated to photography. There were images there, evidence that he had decided at some point that the things he was looking at were worth collecting and showing. And then, at least from the outside, it stopped. I’ve always wanted to know why.
Ludovico is from Turin and lives in Paris. He is one of the most caring people I know, although caring does not make a friendship uncomplicated. We have fought. We have misunderstood each other. We have irritated each other. And then, somehow, remained friends. I think there is something interesting in that too: sometimes closeness is not the absence of conflict, but what remains after it.
He cooks better than almost anyone I know. He takes photographs. He has an almost suspiciously serious relationship with whisky. He cares about objects, places, elegance, food, people and dogs.
He also once loved a dog enough to have the imprint of her paw tattooed on his shoulder after losing her.
I think Ludovico pays attention to things.
So I wanted to ask him what he sees, what he keeps, what he misses, and what he thinks deserves to be cared for.
We meet on a Saturday for an aperitivo in the 5th.
YASMINA: You’re always the one cooking at things. Can I have a verre de rouge, svp?
WAITER: Oui.
LUDOVICO: And a pint of blonde for me.
WAITER: A pint of blonde. Careful with the phone.
YASMINA: Thank you. I honestly can’t remember ever going to a dinner where you weren’t the one cooking.
LUDOVICO: Okay, and what’s the question? Why? I like cooking. It relaxes me. It puts me in a mood that I would even call festive. I like cooking and seeing people happy while they eat something I made. That’s why I experiment, I look things up, I see things, I ask ChatGPT for recipes too.
I know I’m going to be the one cooking
Some of the things you guys have eaten came directly from ChatGPT, but starting from my ideas. Like: “I have cheese, raisins and watermelon in the fridge. Would that work in a risotto? Can I make a salad out of it?”
My cooking has always been like that. It relaxes me.
I don’t necessarily need to cook for myself, though. If I don’t feel like it, I’ll make myself some stupid pasta, something basic, nothing special. I don’t plan my grocery shopping. I go to the supermarket and think: “Oh, this looks good. This looks good. I’ll buy this and make something with it.”
With friends, it’s not that I don’t trust their cooking. It’s simply that I enjoy doing it. So at first I’ll be like, “Do you need a hand? Do you need a hand?” And then at some point I realize everyone else has stopped doing fuck all, and I end up cooking everything myself.
By now it’s basically a habit. I already know I’m going to be the one cooking.
YASMINA: I want to organize my birthday now. Like I was telling you guys, I want to rent this house somewhere in the countryside, I don’t even know where yet. I’m not deciding the menu, I’m not doing the groceries, and most importantly I’m not…
LUDOVICO: No. You’ll send me to the market with a car and Romain to do the grocery shopping.
That’s what I like about cooking. Nothing is fixed.
You can start with an idea and then suddenly think: “Fuck, this would actually work really well in here, let’s add it.”
Or: “It’s sweet, it’s good, but it needs something to make it a little crunchier”.
I like finding all those little elements that make everything come together.
YASMINA: Okay, then you really have to win me over. Let’s make a full-day menu.
I spend a whole day with you, from the moment I wake up until the moment we go to sleep. I want three meals, and I don’t want to eat out.
LUDOVICO: Okay.
I’m unfortunately not the best in the morning. I’d go out and get you a pain au chocolat, some viennoiserie, and I’d give you a properly made coffee at home, either with the moka or the machine, depending on how much time we have.
For lunch I’d have prepared this recipe I absolutely love.
FULL RECIPE HERE
You take romaine lettuce. You blanch it for five seconds and then put it into cold water.
Meanwhile, you cook duck breast properly on the grill.
In another pan, you take figs, so this would obviously be a summer recipe, considering the season. You lightly caramelize them so they still keep the texture of the fig, but release enough of their juices to create a sauce.
Then you add butter, sugar, the figs and two or three sprigs of rosemary.
You remove the figs, strain the sauce to get rid of the rosemary, and let the sauce reduce a little more.
By then, the duck breast is ready and just needs to rest.
You cut it into large pieces and plate the duck, the caramelized figs and the blanched romaine. Pour the sauce over it, add a pinch of salt, and that’s lunch.
In my ideal kitchen I’d also have an oven, so I could make dessert.
There’s one dessert I’m particularly good at making that reminds me a little bit of you.
YASMINA: Okay. A cake?
LUDOVICO: A flourless, gluten-free chocolate and chili cake.
YASMINA: Chili?
LUDOVICO: I’ll explain why it reminds me of you.
You’re completely normal, completely calm, like chocolate. And then every two or three minutes, you come up with some fucking idea.
YASMINA: The fucking idea is the chili.
LUDOVICO: More or less.
In the afternoon, we’d relax for a bit. We’d talk, listen to records, listen to some music.
Then we’d go out again, go for another walk, have another aperitivo, see what the plans are.
I know, I talk too much.
YASMINA: No, I was just checking that it was still recording.
LUDOVICO: For dinner I’d keep things light, although not exactly light. Peach and camembert salad. You crush walnuts, hazelnuts and cashews.
In the sauce the peaches release, you warm up some Camembert, and then you make a salad that should be quite bitter, so probably arugula.
You combine the sweet caramelized peaches, the crushed walnuts, hazelnuts and cashews, the Camembert. That’s your only dish.
And finally, for dessert, pears in wine.
But not in sugary wine, because I hate that. The wine shouldn’t be too sweet.
It should be quite earthy, so that it clashes a little with the sweetness of the pear. I love mixing something sweet with something that apparently has nothing to do with it.
YASMINA: Do you generally like ethnic food?
LUDOVICO: I like spicy food. My body doesn’t handle it particularly well that night or the next day, but I love Indian food and Thai food.
YASMINA: Have you found any ethnic restaurants in Paris that you like and would recommend? Even ones that aren’t particularly famous.
LUDOVICO: Not unknown ones, no. So I can’t really tell you much about ethnic restaurants.
What I have developed an education in, though, is smash burgers, because there are days where I just don’t want to cook. I tried one on Friday because I didn’t feel like cooking and it was horrible. Absolute shit. It was just around here. They had this two-for-one deal with a blue-cheese smash burger. You think: “Okay, that has to be good.”
And then this thing arrived somehow wet and dry at the same time, with terrible bread.
Disgusting.
YASMINA: What’s the best burger in Paris, for you?
LUDOVICO: I have to say Junk Saint-Germain isn’t bad. The best burger I ever found in Paris was one night from a food truck that moved around. It was somewhere around here. I never even figured out the name.
YASMINA: Do you think you could find the name again?
LUDOVICO: No. This was when I first arrived here. So two years ago.
YASMINA: You arrived in Paris two years ago?
LUDOVICO: I arrived in May 2024, and then we met in January or February 2025.
YASMINA: When we met, we followed each other immediately, and there’s something I noticed that I don’t think I’ve ever properly spoken to you about.
I don’t even know what happened to it, but you had, or maybe still have, an Instagram account for photography.
I wanted to ask whether you still take photographs, how you take them, and, if you stopped, why you stopped.
What do we keep when we stop showing ourselves?
LUDOVICO: I don’t use that account anymore because I got bored of Instagram as a place where you put yourself on display.
I like Instagram as an escape valve.
You scroll, you rot your brain watching idiots, and I have to admit that I enjoy snooping on other people’s lives. I opened the photography account because I had thirty or forty pictures I really liked. I was proud of having taken them and wanted to post them.
But that was during the period when everyone was obsessed with having a perfectly coordinated Instagram feed and color palette. So I never posted them on my main profile, even though I obviously could have.
I still take photographs. I have loads I could publish, from our trip to Venice to my little trips outside Paris. I still haven’t developed some of my rolls of film.
Photography has always been something I appreciated.
Especially with old or analog photography, you capture a moment that can’t be modified.
You can’t change what was there.
The photo came out badly? Fine. That’s exactly what’s beautiful about it. Nobody is perfect. With analog photography, if you don’t know how to use the camera properly or you mess up the exposure, the lighting, the settings, that mistake belongs to you.
It’s manual. You made it. There’s something incredibly satisfying about that.
YASMINA: Your academic background is in economics. If you had studied something radically different, what would you have chosen? For example, I studied Political Science, and now I work in the thing I genuinely want to do, which is fashion, because I’m very attached to clothing. But in another life, I love furniture, and I would have loved to be an interior architect or do something in design.
Except I can’t draw.
LUDOVICO: Before starting university, I wanted to become a doctor.
I took God knows how many entrance exams for Medicine in Italy, both for public and private universities. But, as usual, I’m a bit of a procrastinator and I hadn’t really researched everything properly. I had the state entrance exam, the courses and all of that. I did what I thought was right, but it didn’t work out.
Then I moved into Law, which I never actually liked. But because of family reasons, my grandfather and my father everyone being lawyers, I stayed in it much longer than I wanted to.
It was useful, though, because eventually leaving became my decision.
Even the people who had originally told me that I had to continue eventually realized it wasn’t the right path for me.
YASMINA: And you studied in Turin, right?
LUDOVICO: The first part, yes.
I studied both Law and Economics in Turin. Are you making a video out of this? Like a little film?
YASMINA: For now, I’m turning them into written pieces. Everything I publish, I’ll let you read and approve first.
LUDOVICO: Don’t worry about that.
Everyone knows my life anyway.
Everyone knows my life anyway.
If there are things that shouldn’t be said, I’ll be the first person not to say them.
YASMINA: I want to go back to Turin for a second. So many people I’ve met in my life have told me: “You would love Turin.” I’ve never been, even though I’ve been almost everywhere else in Italy. So: Turin in three words.
LUDOVICO: Bear in mind that I don’t see you living there.
YASMINA: You don’t see me there?
LUDOVICO: No. I would live there, though, and I probably will one day, because my roots are there and my family is there. I’m very attached to roots, I like knowing my family history. I even have lots of books about my family at home.
Three words: one - Turin is a city that feels frozen in time. That’s technically more than one word, but to me it functions like an adjective: frozen in time.
Then: peaceful.
Compared with Milan, you don’t have the same amount of things on offer, but you have a peace and a calm that, for me, you don’t find in any other city.
Milan is chaotic. Rome is chaotic. Venice is chaotic.
YASMINA: Venice is very chaotic.
LUDOVICO: Turin is calm. If you live in the center, you can walk everywhere. It’s peaceful. It’s beautiful. When you look up, I’m not going to say it feels like Paris, but the style is similar. The city is structured in a similar way. There’s a river running through it. One side is for rich people, the other is for everyone.
It’s quite similar to Paris, and I actually recognize myself in both places.
So: frozen in time, calm, and home.
I can’t describe Turin to you in order to make you love it.
I can’t describe Turin to you in order to make you love it.
I can describe it so that you understand it.
I could talk endlessly about beautiful places in Turin: Piazza San Carlo, Piazzetta delle Erbe, Piazza Palazzo di Città, Porta Palazzo with all its problems… Turin is many things. First and foremost, for me, it’s home.
I grew up there. I spent twenty-five years of my life there. It’s like if you spoke to me about Rome through your neighborhoods, your experiences, your things.
Objectively, Turin is beautiful, but it has been very marginalized within Italy.
We lost what used to make us great: the automotive industry. Companies like Bertone, Fiat and Zagato were all based around Turin because of the Fiat industrial ecosystem. Then Fiat left, and the city administration basically decided everyone should become museum guards and waiters for a tourist city. But Turin has never been a city that can survive exclusively on tourism.
YASMINA: You live abroad now.
I don’t know how often you manage to go back, but you go back fairly often, right?
LUDOVICO: It depends.
YASMINA: As you know, I don’t go back to my city very often because I hate it. Do you feel like a different person when you go back to Turin?
LUDOVICO: Absolutely. I’m going to psychoanalyze you a little now too, so forgive me.
YASMINA: Maybe we’ll cut this part.
LUDOVICO: We’ll see.
Privately, I’ve reached a point where I’ve accepted who I am in Turin and who I am in Paris. More and more, I’m becoming the same person in Paris and Turin. It took a long time. It took therapy. More than anything, it required accepting myself. I’m the first person to judge myself, and when I judge myself I find a thousand things wrong.
In Turin, I had reached a point where I would go out specifically to get drunk and completely fucked up, with very few people I actually considered friends.
In Paris, instead, I found this bunch of people who were initially strangers and with whom I had the opportunity to become a better version of myself.
Little by little, I’m bringing that person back to Turin too.
When I go to Turin, it’s still different, though. I go there for my family. I go to see them. Unless I have a wedding, a party or some other event, I mostly stay at home with them.
In summer there’s the swimming pool. Why the fuck would I go wandering around outside in that heat? Turin can get to forty degrees too.
But yes, it’s completely normal to be two different people. It’s not a problem. It doesn’t mean anything is wrong.
The important thing is to make peace with who you are in one place and who you are in the other, and eventually carry both versions of yourself wherever you go.
I’m not the same person I was in London. I’m not the same person I was in Madrid.
I’m not the same person I was when I first arrived in Paris. And I’m definitely not the person I was when I left Turin.
I’ve changed. I’ve lost a lot of weight. I’ve done a thousand things. I’ve lived and worked abroad for two and a half years.
Turin will always remain part of me. It’s also the place that gave me the possibility to leave.
I left Turin because I couldn’t take it anymore. Now I go back and, even though I still find it closed-minded, I’ve accepted it.
I’m not at the stage where I can say I would go back there to work. I still see that as a step backwards. But I won’t pretend I could never do it.
YASMINA: There’s one thing I think you carry with you in every city.
LUDOVICO: Alcohol.
YASMINA: No. Well, yes, but specifically whisky. When did you realize whisky was actually something you were passionate about and not just something you liked drinking?
LUDOVICO: When I started discovering brands and products. My passion for whisky started the way things tend to start in my family: completely randomly, in a very sweet and childish way. I would dip my lips into my grandfather’s whisky glass.
YASMINA: I love that.
LUDOVICO: That’s how I started getting into gin and tonic too, and then whisky. After a while I realized whisky cost me less and got me drunk faster.
YASMINA: So if you ranked alcohol, whisky would be number one?
LUDOVICO: Yes, but talking about “whisky” as one generic thing is an understatement. I fell into this beautiful rabbit hole. In Italy we talk about whisky as though it were one thing. But then you discover bourbon, rye, malt, single malt, blended whisky, Japanese whisky, fast-aged whisky. Every single wooden barrel it ages in changes the aromatic profile of the whisky. Just to name some very famous brands: Lagavulin, Laphroaig, Talisker.
YASMINA: Very cool. And now you actually work a little bit in that world, right?
LUDOVICO: Yes, recently.
YASMINA: Does working in it change anything? Does it make you more passionate about it, or does it somehow distance you from it? Because with fashion, for example, people tell me: “Working in fashion made me hate fashion.” For me, it’s the opposite.
LUDOVICO: I’ve only been working in that industry for two months. I had already worked on a startup project connected to the sector.
YASMINA: It’s more or less your dream industry, right?
LUDOVICO: Yes, but not in the right position. I’m someone who hates computers. For work, I would need much more human contact than computer contact. I understand that everything you create eventually requires a computer. A presentation is still a presentation. But for me, the ideal balance in a working day would be fifty percent computer, and the other fifty percent talking to people, understanding what their problems are, understanding what they need and figuring out whether you can give it to them.
YASMINA: Human contact is really important to you. And I know friendship is really important to you too.
It’s not just friendship
LUDOVICO: It’s not just friendship. You and I are friends because I care about you. I care about who you are. I care about the person I know you can become. And I care about you in this more delicate situation you’re in now, with all your mess, without going into the details. But that human relationship based on respect and mutual understanding is something I’ve always looked for.
YASMINA: I thought about all the friends I want to involve for Palomita Office and for now there are people I haven’t excluded from the project, but with whom I have to be a little careful. I don’t think they’d react with outright hostility, but they might react like: “You’re interrogating me and I don’t want to argue with you.” You and I have argued before.
LUDOVICO: We’ve argued, and the friendship stayed.
YASMINA: I reread that question yesterday too. And the friendship stayed for a simple reason: I realized I had gone too far and behaved badly.
LUDOVICO: We’re actually mixing two different situations. In one, I behaved badly. In the other, you behaved badly. I genuinely overstepped when I grabbed you, made you sit down, said, “No more alcohol,” and took your glass away. You were right to get angry because it wasn’t my right to do that.
YASMINA: Arguing is kind of an intimate gesture. Well, maybe “gesture” isn’t the right word, but…
LUDOVICO: It means you care about the person. Especially, at least, with the kinds of arguments we’ve had. For me, there are two kinds of arguments: constructive arguments and arguments that have an objective. Going back to what we were saying, you and I have had two arguments.
One was the big one. The other one happened because of something I said, or something about you that I shared. I think in that situation anyone could have told you: “You’re an idiot. Don’t do that.” But taking the glass away from you, I agree that I shouldn’t have done that.
YASMINA: But now I see there was an instinct to care for me. I’m really happy because my parents associate you with this protective figure.Not “protective” in the sense of someone going, “I’m going to protect you,” but more like: “She has a genuinely good friend who’s there and who’s available.” I realize that sometimes I stress myself out and want to do everything alone. I’ve always had this very strong independent instinct, I want to be autonomous.
And I realize sometimes it becomes a problem, because I do need help. Everyone needs help.
Love, everyone needs help
LUDOVICO: Love, everyone needs help. Everyone deals with their own problems using whatever tools they have. I like helping people because I like to believe that if I help other people, other people might help me one day.
YASMINA: If we were in the Middle Ages and you were a king, I think you’d be Ludovico the Good.
LUDOVICO: I’d say The Great.
YASMINA: You know, like English kings all had these names.
LUDOVICO: At the moment I’m Ludovico the Unemployed, but that…
I used to jokingly call her my girlfriend
YASMINA: As you know, because you’ve genuinely been part of my daily life and you’ve basically been family to me, I recently got a dog. I know there was a very important dog in your life because you have her paw tattooed.
LUDOVICO: You said you wanted to get personal, right? I’m happy to talk about it because it’s something I like talking about and because I like the meaning I’ve created for it in my head. The paw tattoo didn’t simply start as “I’m going to get a paw tattoo.”
I was leaving Madrid, and she was already ill. We knew she wasn’t necessarily in the final months of her life yet, but the situation was serious. So I thought: “Okay, I already have a tattoo. I’m going to get one in Madrid for her.”
I took her front paw and photographed it. That photograph stayed there until September of the following year, when I finally decided to get the tattoo done. I organized everything, and for the first time my sister also came with me to watch me get a tattoo.
She stayed with me, and it became a bonding moment with my sister too. The meaning is obviously connected to the dog, but it’s also connected to a promise for the future.
She and I were incredibly close. I was her whole world and she was mine. I used to jokingly call her my girlfriend. Every time I came home, she would first pretend to be offended with me and then jump all over me. She would lick my entire face and put her paws right around my collarbones.
The meaning of my tattoo comes from the way she would greet me, putting her paws against my collarbones. It eventually became : “Even though I’m not here anymore, I’m still putting my paw on you and pushing you forward.” That’s why I chose the back of my arm.
YASMINA: I lost my childhood dog in January, Pepper. You know that. Pepper was my whole world, even though I wasn’t his. He had chosen my parents. Maybe because I was young when we got him?
LUDOVICO: Not necessarily. Animals choose people. Dachshunds in particular are quite specific about it. A guard dog or protection dog chooses a family and protects that family. A sheepdog is different. A sheepdog chooses a flock and protects the whole community.
If someone had ever tried to hurt me, my mother, my sister or my brother, my dog would have moved heaven and earth to destroy them. A sheepdog works more preventively.
A dachshund, on the other hand, is a hunting dog, so its bond is connected to survival. There’s a reason people say a dachshund chooses its “carniere,” meaning the person who gave it meat and fed it.
Paloma chose you. And now I’m going to say something quite strong, so I hope you don’t get angry. She has chosen you as the person who feeds her, but not yet as the person who guides her.
I’ll explain what I mean. It’s completely fine to spoil her. But when you’re outside with Paloma, you’re often not actually paying attention to Paloma.
You’re paying attention to the friend you’re with, the phone call, whatever shopping you need to do and everything else. When you’re with your dog, you need to treat the walk, metaphorically, like a hunting session.
YASMINA: That’s actually one of my biggest daily resolutions. When I’m with Paloma: no phone, no headphones, no calls, nothing.
LUDOVICO: You can still have those things.
But you need enough mental space and discipline to say: “Okay, I’m on a call, but now I’m stopping.” That’s one of the biggest lessons dogs teach you. You have to find…
YASMINA: Patience?
LUDOVICO: No.
It’s not patience.
You have to find the time to actually do things
You have to find the time to actually do things. If you’re cooking, cook.
If you’re doing the interview, do the interview.
If you’re walking the dog, walk the dog.
YASMINA: Okay. I’m going to ask you the last questions and then we’ll stop. There was this category I was interested in and it’s love and intimacy.
LUDOVICO: If I tell you everything, basically none of it will be publishable.
YASMINA: Ludo, for you, what does it mean to be intimate with someone? I mean romantically, not platonically.
LUDOVICO: Intimacy is a bit of a touchy subject for me because I’ve been burned, particularly once.
I don’t think I’ve ever been in love with someone. I don’t think I’ve ever completely opened myself up to another person. I don’t think I’ve ever been completely intimate with someone. I think there’s sexual intimacy and then there’s sexual intimacy. There’s the kind where you think: “Sure, let’s do it.” And there’s the kind where you feel there’s a deeper relationship underneath it. My relationship with intimacy is very complicated, and I’m working on it quite a lot.
YASMINA: Don’t worry. I’m in a very Sartre mood.
LUDOVICO: This isn’t a Sartre mood.
This is: we’re talking about heavy things, so let’s lighten things up with some nicotine.
I tell him things I can’t publish. I tell him something I realized the day before.
LUDOVICO: Good morning, baby. I didn’t want to tell you because we would have argued, but…
YASMINA: Merci, I mention someone I can’t mention here, quoi. No, but now we’re talking about you.
LUDOVICO: But I also want to tell you something. There’s one thing I’ve always noticed about you, and it’s something I think you need to be careful about. You run away from yourself.
YASMINA: A lot.
LUDOVICO: I’ve never heard you say: “I feel bad because…” or “I feel good because…” I’ve only heard: “I feel good because of my ex’s name.” “I feel bad because of the guy that I’m seeing’s name.” “I feel bad because of Jeff” (Jeff doesn’t exist, yet). “I feel bad because my mother replied to me.” “I feel bad because one of our mutual friends’ name said this to me.” “I feel bad because of another mutual friend’s name.”
You live in relation to other people.
YASMINA: That’s true.
That’s true.
That’s true.
LUDOVICO: And it makes sense that you might want to run away from yourself because you might be having all those problems. But the person I’ve seen in your good moments is not someone who… And this is not a declaration of love, even though your parents would like it to be.
YASMINA: My parents would love that.
LUDOVICO: Actually… let me remind you that you also told me we were going to get married.
YASMINA: I was bluffing. But anyways, when last week that shit happened with Palo, and you messaged me asking if I needed help and if you could come meet me, I texted my sister and said: “Why did you tell Ludovico? I don’t want people stressing me out.”
And she replied: “Sorry, Mum told me.”
So I texted my mother: “Why did you message Ludovico? I didn’t want that, he stresses me out.”
And she said: “Sorry, I told Dad.”
At that point I thought: “Okay, if Dad said it, then fine.” My parents have never met you, wait no they have, and they trust you so much.
LUDOVICO: Is your father going to get me into diplomacy or what?
YASMINA: No.
Okay, I’ll ask you the final questions. I’m going to go check on Paloma and then maybe we’ll see each other later. I want quick answers.
A street in Paris.
LUDOVICO: Rue Mouffetard.
YASMINA: A bar.
LUDOVICO: I can’t… Balto.
YASMINA: A whisky.
LUDOVICO: Macallan 18 Double Cask.
YASMINA: Something you collect.
LUDOVICO: Vinyl records.
YASMINA: Something that is considered a good quality in other people, but that you personally hate.
LUDOVICO: I can’t explain it in one word, so I’ll say it quickly. When you’ve just met someone and you see there’s potential, and then that person immediately starts going: “We have to see each other. Let’s see each other. Let’s meet tomorrow. Let’s meet again.”
YASMINA: That clingy thing.
LUDOVICO: Exactly.
YASMINA: Something you always lose.
LUDOVICO: My dignity.
YASMINA: Your favorite word.
LUDOVICO: It’s a phrase:
*************************************
YASMINA: Lol, stop. Your last meal. For me, it would be five banana breads.
LUDOVICO: My mother’s braised beef with cream and mushrooms.
YASMINA: A time of day.
LUDOVICO: Aperitivo time.
YASMINA: Something you miss.
LUDOVICO: Having a dog.
YASMINA: And the last thing you would want to tell me.
LUDOVICO: Never stop taking *************
YASMINA: Okay. I can’t put this in.
I’m stopping the recording.
You can read Ludovico’s question for me here.