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It was a simple wish. A panini from my favourite deli in Sydney. I'd been looking forward to it for weeks.

When the day came, I picked the one with salami, mozzarella, arugula and tomato. As it was wrapped, I told the man behind the counter: "I dream of your panini. I make a special trip up from the South Coast to get one."

His face beamed and an instant connection was made.

"What is it about Italian bread?" I asked. "It's always so good."

In Italy, he said, no meal is complete without bread. He'd moved to Australia as a child and one of the things he missed most was the smell of freshly baked bread.

"Here, you walk past a bakery and you wouldn't know it," he said. "There's hardly any smell at all. It Italy you can smell the bakery from a block away."

We went deeper into the conversation. I wanted to know about pecorino, the salty sheep cheese from Sardinia. I'd recently read that Sardinia was a blue zone, famed for the longevity of its people.

"Ah, yes, everyone lives for a long time in Sardegna," he told me as he explained the difference between pecorino for grating and pecorino for slicing. "This one is from Sardegna, perfect for eating on its own."

We then talked about Italy and how I was desperate to get there.

"You must go to Sicily," he said. "That's where I'm from. It's cheaper than the rest of Italy, warmer and the food is better. Here, you might drive all the way to Wollongong to see a beautiful beach. There, you drive 10 minutes to a great beach and 10 minutes the other way to see ancient Greek ruins."

As he spoke, there was a wistfulness about him, the hint of a tear in his eye. I assured him Sicilia would be a top priority. He put a hand on my shoulder and we exchanged names.

I know the next time I'm in Sydney, I'll drop in to say hello to Giuseppe and make off with one of his crusty, delicious paninis and another hunk of pecorino. But it's not just the food I'll be after. The spontaneous human connection over a simple transaction which is so often lost in our hurried lives will sate another form of hunger: for good, old-fashioned service.

How different from the supermarket deli counter, where you take a ticket and are served hurriedly so the line behind you keeps moving. It's convenient but joyless. "Anything else?" is about all the conversation you can expect.

Over lunch the next day, we talked about the encounter with Giuseppe and the demise........

© The Examiner