Ask ten Italians what makes a “true” Italian sandwich and you’ll likely get ten different answers. Region, tradition, memory, and personal taste all play a role. At Paninaro in Ottawa, authenticity isn’t about copying trends or piling on ingredients — it’s about honouring a feeling. A flavour that sticks with you. A sandwich you remember years later.
I sat down with chef and owner Marco Distefano — the creator and driving force behind Paninaro — to talk about what defines a true Italian sandwich, why simplicity matters, and how obsessive attention to a few ingredients can make all the difference.
What makes a “true Italian sandwich” in your eyes, and how does Paninaro bring that authenticity to Ottawa?
Growing up in Ottawa, I was constantly visiting the classic panino shops around the city. You really can’t go wrong with a fresh bun filled with good meat, fresh toppings, and mayo. It was a staple of my childhood. And being raised in an Italian household, my mom always kept the same ingredients at home so I could build my own creations.
I’ve always loved sandwiches and dreamed of opening my own shop since I was a kid. But “true Italian sandwich” means different things depending on the region. Paninaro is inspired specifically by Florence — by the famous schiacciata sandwiches that completely changed my life when I visited about 15 years ago. I had never tasted anything like that bread, those sauces, that simplicity. In 2023, I started craving that same sandwich and realized no one in Ottawa or even Montreal was making anything close. So, being a chef, I rolled up my sleeves and, relying purely on memory, spent months perfecting my own schiacciata recipe.
The bread is the foundation of everything, but the sauces are what really set those Florentine sandwiches apart. I had to recreate those flavours from memory too — pistachio cream, pecorino cream, artichoke cream — along with toppings made fresh in-house, never from a jar.
So what makes a true Italian sandwich?
Fresh bread baked daily. Fresh toppings made in-house. Simple ingredients treated with respect. And flavours that stay with you for years. That’s the authenticity we bring to Ottawa.
You often hear Italians say “simple is best.” Do you agree? How does that philosophy show up in your menu?
Simplicity is the foundation of Italian cuisine. With just a few ingredients, you can make something unforgettable — as long as you let the ingredients do the talking. As chefs, our job is to highlight flavour, not hide it.
At Paninaro, we keep the menu intentionally tight: seven sandwiches, each one built with purpose. Limiting the number of toppings lets every ingredient shine, and every sandwich is curated around flavour profiles that work harmoniously.
Take the Moda Mortadella — only four ingredients. But each one is obsessed over.
• Our pistachio cream is made daily and hits nutty, salty, and herbaceous notes.
• Our house-made stracciatella is rich and buttery.
• The imported mortadella is soft, light, and delicate.
• The pistachio crumb adds texture and balance.
Everything complements each other, and the schiacciata itself is made with less salt so the toppings can be the star.
Simple ingredients, done right — that’s the Italian way, and that’s our menu.
What ingredient do you consider the heart of a perfect panino, and how do you source it?
At Paninaro, pistachio cream has become one of our signature ingredients — and for good reason. It took a long time to perfect because people often compare it to pesto, but it’s completely different: smoother, creamier, with just a touch of crunch.
It works beautifully with so many of our meats, and it’s a flavour profile you won’t find anywhere else. The ingredient list is simple — basil, pistachios, olive oil — but the technique and ratios are what make it special. It’s balanced, aromatic, and elevates any sandwich it touches. The Prosciutto Piazza, for example, would just be a basic prosciutto sandwich without it.
Which sandwich was the hardest to perfect — and what finally made it “just right”?
The Milano Mingle was definitely the hardest to perfect — and also one of the most unique. It’s the type of sandwich you’d only find in Italy, with artichoke cream, spicy eggplant, pecorino cream, and mild salami. It’s a sleeper hit: customers hesitate at first, but once they try it, they’re hooked.
Both sauces were a challenge.
• Artichoke cream: made from imported Italian artichokes, but it’s much more than just blending artichokes. It took a long time to match the creamy texture and bold flavour I remembered from Italy.
• Pecorino cream: made with imported pecorino folded into a béchamel-style base. Getting the velvety texture and balanced salty sheep’s milk flavour took a lot of testing.
The spicy eggplant was another two-day labour of love — hand-cut, salted, pressed, baked, and then tossed in our signature spicy oil. It’s the ingredient I grew up eating from a jar, but we elevated it by doing it all in-house.
Once all three components finally hit the flavour profile I remembered — creamy, bold, spicy, balanced — the Milano Mingle became exactly what it needed to be.
Do you plan to expand into new styles — breakfast panini, seasonal specials, or regional Italian favourites?
I’ve definitely thought about a breakfast sandwich, but not the kind you’d see in a typical café. I’m playing with ideas, but I won’t put it on the menu until it’s perfect.
We do offer specials to keep things exciting for our regulars. The longest-running one is The Inferno — a spicy sandwich that’s been on our board for over a year. Every time we try to remove it, customers ask for it back, so it’s basically a permanent fixture now.
It started with a craving for something spicy. That led to developing our Inferno Sauce — similar to a spicy mayo, but with more depth — paired with spicy salami, capicollo, spicy eggplant, provolone, fresh tomato, and arugula. Every ingredient was chosen intentionally to create a sandwich with real heat and real flavour, not just spice for the sake of spice.
What comes through clearly in this conversation is that Paninaro isn’t chasing novelty, it’s chasing memory. Every sandwich, sauce, and topping exists for a reason, refined through repetition and restraint rather than excess. Whether it’s a pistachio cream perfected over months, a two-day eggplant process, or a menu intentionally limited to seven sandwiches, the philosophy stays the same: respect the ingredients and let them speak.
In a food culture that often rewards bigger, louder, and faster, Paninaro quietly does the opposite. It slows things down. It pares things back. And in doing so, it delivers something rare: sandwiches that feel considered, grounded, and unmistakably Italian, even from thousands of kilometres away.
Sometimes, simple really is best.
