Friday, January 9, 2026

Culinary Creativity: Chef Joseph Carli

Chef Joseph Carli
is the Executive Chef and culinary force behind A Tavola in Winchester, Massachusetts, where he offers a thoughtful, ingredient-driven approach to Italian cuisine rooted in tradition and seasonality. A lifelong New Englander, his cooking reflects both the warmth of the Italian table and a deep connection to the region he proudly calls home. A graduate of the New England Culinary Institute, Chef Carli brings classical training and a philosophy centered on balance, restraint, and respect for quality ingredients. His menus highlight house-made pastas, carefully sourced produce, and thoughtfully prepared proteins that allow simplicity and technique to shine.

At A Tavola, Chef Carli creates refined yet approachable dishes that honor Italian culinary traditions while embracing a modern sensibility. His commitment to craftsmanship, consistency, and genuine hospitality has made the restaurant a beloved neighborhood destination north of Boston. Chef Carli lives locally with his wife, Kacie, their son, Ryan, and their two golden retrievers, remaining closely connected to the community he serves both in and out of the kitchen. 

I'll also personally note that A Tavola is one of my Top Five Favorite Restaurants, earning my highest recommendation. I heartily thank Joe for participating in my resurrection of my Culinary Creativity series. 

(Check out my Introduction to the Culinary Creativity series.)

*********************

Now onto the interview--

How important is culinary creativity to you? Why is it important?
Culinary creativity is essential to me. A chef mentor once told me, “If you’re not changing, you’re getting stale,” and that idea really guided me—especially during the pandemic, which coincided with my first year in business.
When we were forced to shift entirely to takeout, I noticed the same loyal guests coming back week after week. I didn’t want them to feel bored or uninspired, so while we kept a few core dishes, the rest of the menu was constantly evolving—sometimes changing day to day based on instinct, mood, or what was available.
As a neighborhood restaurant, it’s important to me that guests feel the menu is alive and never stagnant. Creativity keeps things exciting not just for our guests, but for me and the staff as well. Living in New England, where seasons and weather shift dramatically, it only feels natural that the food reflects those changes. Variety keeps us honest, energized, and engaged.


What are your most significant inspirations for your culinary creativity? What makes those sources so inspiring?
Cookbooks and flavor memories are huge inspirations for me, but honestly, ideas can come from anywhere. I once got the idea for a steak dish while watching a Bugs Bunny cartoon with my son when he was a baby—the dish just just clicked in that moment.
At A Tavola, many of the cookbooks I love most live in our dining room. While I may reference techniques or ideas, if I ever adapt a dish directly, I believe strongly in crediting the original chef—it’s about paying respect to someone who did it first.
What inspires me most, though, are the stories. I love cookbooks that include essays, anecdotes, and reflections. I’m a big believer in reading a cookbook cover to cover—it gives you insight into how a chef thinks, not just how they cook.


Where do you get your ideas for new recipes or dishes?
Ideas come from a mix of memories, books, conversations, seasons, and guest experiences. Sometimes it’s something I’ve eaten years ago that sticks with me; other times it’s a product that arrives and it is so fresh and perfect that I don’t really want to do anything to it and serve it as natural as I can. The menu often reflects what’s happening outside, what guests are responding to, and what excites me at that moment. I try and be observant as to what is trendy with what my clientele sees in magazines, blogs and socials, so that I know what they would be looking for when they come in for dinner.

What is your process for creating a new recipe or dish?
When I’m developing a new dish, I always start by cooking it myself and tasting it thoroughly. Then I tweak it and taste again—often with someone else—before deciding whether it needs further refinement or should be scrapped entirely. If it’s close, I’ll run it as a special for a night or two to gauge guest response. Like any restaurant, we have hits and flops. There are dishes I’m convinced will be instant winners that don’t land, and others I’m less excited about that the staff and guests absolutely love. Staying open to that feedback is crucial.

Do other members of your staff assist with creating ideas for new recipes or dishes?
Yes and no. Some of our younger staff are very plugged into food trends and social media and will show me things they’re seeing online. While those dishes can look beautiful, they’re often designed more for the camera than for flavor or practicality in a restaurant setting. Where the staff really influences the menu is through guest feedback. The team spends way more time talking with guests than I do —many of whom travel extensively and dine out often—and they share those experiences with us. That feedback can absolutely shape menu items, specials, and even what ends up on our wine list or behind the bar.
My sous chef, David, who I’ve worked with across six kitchens over the past 15 years, is also an essential sounding board. We understand each other’s palates and cooking styles deeply, and I trust him to tell me whether a dish truly fits A Tavola or belongs to a future project. Every member of the staff knows that I have an open door policy and they can come to me with any idea or thought on how to improve A Tavola in any way.


How do you test new recipes or dishes?
Through repetition, tasting, and real guest response. A dish isn’t finished until it performs well both in the kitchen and in the dining room. Specials are often the final test before something earns a place on the menu.

What is the most difficult part of culinary creativity?
One of the hardest parts is deciding who you’re cooking for. Are you cooking for yourself, for recognition, or for your guests? I’ve never been particularly motivated by stars or awards. What matters most to me is cooking food that makes both me and our guests genuinely happy. That means staying aware of trends without chasing them, remaining true to my own instincts, and cooking with intention. I really believe that your emotions show up on the plate.

Do you ever experience creative block, and how do you work through it?
Absolutely—it’s very real. When it happens, I’ll dive into cookbooks or buy a new one to shake up my thinking. Sometimes I’ll cook something tied to a positive memory, like a dialed up version of my mother’s mushroom chicken dish from when I was a kid, which I recently served at a wine dinner.
Other times, I need physical focus. My version of “zen” is making pasta or breaking down a whole animal and challenging myself to use every part thoughtfully. And when all else fails, I’ll go out to eat somewhere I know I’ll be taken care of—like Giulia, where I’ve never had a bad experience. It’s a reminder that food is meant to bring joy. Cooking in any form is a happy place for me, I can’t sit at a desk or behind a screen for too long or I grow restless and just need to MOVE


Relate an unusual or interesting anecdote about the creation of one of your dishes.

One of my favorite stories comes from a beer dinner with Aeronaut Brewing. They were debuting a beer called Hop Hop and Away, featuring a cartoon rabbit astronaut on the can. Naturally, my mind went straight to rabbit—but I needed a way to make it playful and thoughtful. It was early spring, so I leaned into freshness. The beer was hop-forward with citrus notes, which led me toward something fried and rich but balanced. I braised rabbit hind legs, carefully deboned them, reshaped them, and breaded them with an herb-forward mixture before pan-frying them until golden. I paired them with a hop-infused aioli and surrounded the dish with clovers, greens, and herbs—echoing what rabbits would be eating in the fields. It was whimsical, seasonal, and tied directly back to the beer. 

No comments: