In 2011, a study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences followed eight judges over ten months and 1,112 parole hearings. The researchers wanted to understand what drove the judges' decisions.

They expected to find patterns based on the nature of the crime, the prisoner's profile, the quality of legal representation. What they found instead was something far simpler, and far more unsettling.

At the start of the day, judges granted parole in roughly 65% of cases. As the morning progressed, that number dropped steadily — reaching nearly zero just before a break. After the break, it returned to 65%. After lunch, same reset. By the end of the afternoon, it had collapsed again.

The variable that predicted the outcome of a parole hearing better than any legal factor was the time since the judge had last eaten.

What the research actually says

The study became famous — and was later debated, refined, partially replicated. The exact mechanism is still contested. But the underlying finding has been confirmed across dozens of studies in different contexts: cognitive resources are not fixed. They deplete. And food — specifically the timing, composition and quantity of what we eat — is one of the primary levers that restores them.

The brain represents roughly 2% of body weight but consumes approximately 20% of the body's energy. It runs primarily on glucose. When blood glucose drops, the prefrontal cortex — the part of the brain responsible for judgment, impulse control, long-term thinking and complex decision-making — is among the first regions to be affected.

This is not a metaphor. It is physiology.

A 2013 study in Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews found that low blood glucose consistently impaired self-regulation, increased impulsivity, and reduced the quality of complex decisions. A separate body of research on what is commonly called "decision fatigue" — the documented decline in decision quality over the course of a day — shows that the effect is most pronounced in the hours following a meal that caused a significant glucose spike, precisely because of the corresponding drop.

The foods that cause the largest spikes are the ones that dominate corporate catering: refined carbohydrates, sugary drinks, large portions of processed protein, pastries at breakfast meetings, bread baskets before lunch.

The focus window

There is a concept in cognitive performance research sometimes called the post-lunch dip — a drop in alertness and processing speed that occurs approximately 90 minutes after eating, driven by a combination of circadian rhythm and postprandial blood glucose changes.

In most offices, this window — roughly 1:30pm to 3:30pm — is when the most important meetings tend to be scheduled. It is also, consistently, when cognitive performance is at its lowest point of the working day.

A 2007 study in the journal Physiology & Behavior found that the severity of the post-lunch dip was directly correlated with the glycaemic load of the meal consumed. Participants who ate a low-glycaemic lunch showed significantly smaller performance drops than those who ate a standard high-carbohydrate meal — and recovered cognitive function earlier.

What this means in practice: the meal served before your 2pm board discussion is not neutral. It is either working for the room or against it.

Gut, brain, and the longer signal

Beyond the immediate glucose curve, there is a slower and less understood mechanism that matters for anyone thinking seriously about cognitive performance.

The gut-brain axis — the bidirectional communication system between the gastrointestinal tract and the central nervous system — has become one of the most active areas of neuroscience research in the last decade. The gut produces approximately 95% of the body's serotonin. It communicates directly with the brain via the vagus nerve. The composition of what we eat shapes the microbiome, which in turn influences mood regulation, stress response, and sustained attention.

A 2022 meta-analysis in Nutritional Neuroscience reviewed 45 randomised controlled trials on diet and cognitive performance. The consistent finding: diets built around whole grains, legumes, vegetables, olive oil and fermented foods — what researchers broadly categorise as a Mediterranean-style dietary pattern — were associated with better working memory, faster processing speed, and lower rates of cognitive decline compared to standard Western dietary patterns.

This is not about longevity or weight. It is about what the brain is able to do in the hours after eating.

The ingredients Paolo sources from Tuscany and Umbria — ancient grains, cold-pressed olive oil from trees that have never been industrialised, legumes, seasonal vegetables, fermented preparations — are not chosen for aesthetic or nostalgic reasons. They are, by a striking coincidence of geography and tradition, almost precisely the dietary profile that the research associates with optimal cognitive function.

The attention economy inside the room

There is one more dimension that rarely appears in discussions of corporate food, but that anyone who has run a high-stakes meeting will recognise immediately.

Attention is finite. And in a room of senior people, it is also expensive.

When the food draws attention to itself — through elaborate service, complex flavours that require concentration, presentation that invites commentary, or simply through being too present — it takes something from the conversation. The room splits its focus. The thread gets lost. Someone makes a joke about the food instead of answering the question.

When the food is right, none of this happens. It is noticed, briefly, in the best sense — something registers as good without demanding analysis — and then it disappears into the background where it belongs.

This quality of disappearance is what we design for. Familiar enough to require no interpretation. Precise enough to signal care. Light enough to take nothing from the afternoon.

What this means for how we work

Every intervention SALVA designs is built around a simple idea: the food should make the rest of the day better.

Not more impressive. Not more talked about. Better — in the functional sense that the people who ate it are sharper, more present, more able to do what they came to do.

The menus are constructed around sustained energy rather than immediate impact. Small portions of things that are nutritionally dense. Ancient grains that release glucose slowly. Olive oil and legumes that support rather than disrupt the gut-brain axis. No heavy cream sauces. No refined sugar in savoury dishes. No portion sizes that require a body to divert blood flow to digestion for the rest of the afternoon.

This is, in the end, what Tuscan farmhouse cooking has always been. Not a health philosophy. Just the practical wisdom of feeding people who had work left to do.

The boardroom is not so different.