How a solo afternoon in Oslo turned into a passion project I'm still hoping someone will notice.
It was May 2024. I was in Oslo visiting friends — one of those trips where the city quietly gets under your skin without you even realising it. On the last day, my friends went their own way and I did what I always do when I'm alone in a new city: I walked. No agenda, no map, just streets and curiosity.
That's when I started noticing them.
Deli de Luca. Around what felt like every corner. A warm, inviting presence — part café, part deli, part convenience store — woven into the rhythm of the city. I must have walked past four or five of them that afternoon. There was something immediately likeable about the brand. The name. The atmosphere. The way locals seemed to drift in and out as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
So I did what any web developer with an occupational hazard does: I pulled out my phone and looked up their website.
The moment every designer recognises
You know that feeling. You're on a website and within seconds, something just feels off. The layout. The typography. The way it struggles on mobile like it's fighting against the screen rather than working with it.
Deli de Luca's website was — and I say this with genuine affection — a digital relic. Functional, perhaps, in a certain light. But far behind what a brand of that presence and personality deserved.
I'm not saying this to be critical. I'm saying it because I've seen it many times, and I've learned that a mismatch between a brand's real-world warmth and its online presence is always a missed opportunity. For a chain with loyal customers, a strong identity, and locations spread across the whole of Norway — the online experience simply wasn't keeping up.
I put my phone away. Finished my walk. Flew home to Italy.
And then I couldn't stop thinking about it.
"You know they'll never reply," said my Norwegian friend
Before I started, I spoke with a close friend and colleague of mine — Norwegian, as it happens, and someone who knows the culture well. I explained my idea: I wanted to redesign Deli de Luca's website, completely from scratch, as a passion project. A gift. No invoice, no conditions. Just an honest demonstration of what their online presence could be.
He was quiet for a moment.
"They won't reply," he said. "That's just how it is."
He wasn't being unkind. He was being honest. And he was probably right.
I did it anyway.
Two months, one obsession
Over the following two months, I built delideluca.flexmoo.com — a fully redesigned concept website for Deli de Luca, created entirely on my own initiative, with no brief, no client, and no guarantee anyone would ever see it.
Here's what I built:
- A modern, mobile-first design that actually works the way a contemporary brand's website should — clean, fast, and intuitive on any device
- A news and blog section, where the company could publish updates, promotions, and stories from across their locations
- An interactive map of every Deli de Luca location in Norway, organised by county — because if you're a chain with that kind of geographic footprint, your customers deserve to find you easily
- Individual county pages, each with its own dedicated interactive map and the real photos of each location I sourced and compiled myself
- An e-commerce-ready architecture, designed to be expandable — whether that means food delivery, an online shop, or both
Every location. Every county. Every photo I could find. Two months of evenings and weekends, because sometimes an idea gets into your head and the only way forward is to see it through.
What I was hoping for
I wasn't asking for a contract or anything in return. I was offering to hand the website over, completely free of charge — including helping with the setup, making whatever adjustments were needed, and integrating it properly into their existing systems. In the hope of starting a conversation. Of showing what a more solid digital presence could look like. Of perhaps becoming a small part of their story.
I reached out to several people at Deli de Luca via LinkedIn. I sent emails. I submitted my CV through their website.
That was two years ago.
The site is still live. I never heard back.
A story worth telling
Two years have passed since I finished that website. It's still live, still waiting at delideluca.flexmoo.com, and I still think about it every now and then — not with frustration, but with a kind of quiet pride. Sometimes you work on something not because you know it will lead somewhere, but because it feels right to do it.
Maybe this article will find its way to the right person. Maybe it won't. Either way, the project exists, the offer still stands, and I genuinely believe there's something worth building together.
And if we ever do get to meet — I'll happily take a sandwich as a welcome gift.
