Here in France, I was late recieving news of Armandino Batali’s passing on November 28, 2025. It was not until a Seattle friend sent me Le Pichet’s Instagram post about it that I had the news. A very sad day and I am so glad that Michael and Marcel took the time to point out his importance to Seattle and what a kind, gentle man he was.
I first met Armandino when I was the chef at Campagne, where he and his wife would come to dine. He was always very kind and encouraging to me, which made a big difference to someone in his first chef position. When Salumi opened, Sheila and I would often snag one of the 2-3 tables and sit for several hours trying whatever Armandino and his crew were cooking that day. Often, at the end of the meal, Armandino and his sidekick, Bill Gould, would pull up a chair and a glass, just to talk about food and eating and life. He was such a sweet man and always interested in young talent and ideas. Later, lunches at Salumi became a sort of restaurant staff rendez-vous, with friends like Matt Dillon, Daisley Gordon of Campagne, and David Butler of Le Caviste joining in.
Armandino and I formed a bit of a bond, as it turned out that we had a lot in common. We were both former Boeing engineers who had given it up for the kitchen. We both had lived in Federal Way, in fact his sons played for the same Boys Club soccer team as I had. Anyway, he eventually made me an offer: if I would teach him how to make French pâtés, he would teach me about Italian sausages. Of course I agreed, and we worked together for 5-6 days during the time between when I left Campagne and when I opened Le Pichet. It was a treat to spend time learning from him but also just to hear him talk about his experiences. We made my recipes for country pâté and chicken liver terrine, and I got to see his whole process for cured and fresh sausages. I think I even spent a day making gnocchi with the woman who made them every Friday (his sister?). I never had the chance to apply at Le Pichet most of what I learned, as we never had the space for a curing facility. But our version of Saucisson Lyonnais is a direct descendant from his recipe for Salumi Cotto. Still, I felt very lucky to have had the experience. I think his biggest impact on me was to witness his genius for making guests feel welcome, to give the impression that one was dining around the kitchen table in his home (the fact that he would often open a 1.5 l bottle of inexpensive Montepulciano only increased the impression!).
I last saw Armandino shortly before we left Seattle to live in France, when I was a volunteer in the St James Cathedral Garden on Madison street Armandino was working as a sort of part-time guiding light for the cathedral soup kitchen, and he would stop to talk for a few minutes when I would bring a basket of fresh veggies from the garden. Even though he seemed a bit frail, he was still doing what he loved, giving of himself by cooking with love.