Eataly

• Via Nizza 230
• Torino (TO)
• Official Website

Ask anyone serious about food which is the best gastronomic region of Italy, wrote Frank Bruni, and unless they are “seafood lovers, contrarians or Sicilians” the answer will likely be one of two places — Emilia-Romagna or Piedmont. The way I see it, he’s certainly right, but there is a particularly special thing about the latter of these two regions, and it happens to be served in a glass. Sure, agnolotti versus tortellini is a toss-up, but Lambrusco versus Barolo? Yeah, not so much. I think we have a winner there, and it’s not fizzy and refreshing on a summer afternoon. My point here is not to bash Emilia-Romagna (far from it…its cuisine is wonderful), but merely to point out the ridiculous wealth of culinary riches to which the Piedmont region is home. With its food and wine treasures too vast to name, the region almost needed some kind of a shrine to them. An interactive museum, perhaps. Someplace to put these unique products in the spotlight, to feed both the mind and the stomach with delicious culinary tradition. Enter: Eataly.

I can say without the slightest bit of hesitation that this is the coolest food market I have ever seen. In a trip encompassing nine weeks all around the country, this was possibly my favorite place of all. If every major city (or at least every region) of every country had a place like this, the world would be a better place. But what exactly is Eataly?, you might be asking. Well, where to begin? It’s basically a salumi shop, cheese shop, fish market, bakery, vegetable and fruit market, fresh pasta shop, grocery, wine bar, wine store, indoor beergarten, food-related bookstore, cooking school, kitchenware store, gelateria, sit-down more formal restaurant, several tapas bar-like casual restaurants, free internet point, prosciutto curing room, cheese cave, museum for distinctly local food and wine, and a display of what is in season during each month of the year. I probably even left some things out. But suffice it to say, the place is ridiculous.

One of the cooks at Gener Neuv in Asti had excitedly told me about it, torn out a little newspaper ad for me, and insisted that I go the following Sunday, when most everything else in Italy (food-related or otherwise) would be closed. The first time (you won’t be able to go to this place just once), I think I spent about 5 hours there. I started with a simple walk-around, trying to take it all in. One of the first things I noticed was a huge round table with pictures of what is in season each month, and a display encouraging you to eat both locally and seasonally. My next stop was for a little snack from the bakery, a pistachio macaron (yep, the Parisian kind) and a cannelé (yep, the French kind). Definitely the first time I’d seen French pastries in quite a while, but not surprising given the city’s relative proximity to France, and its notoriety for being home to some of Italy’s best chocolate and pastry shops. This was no Pierre Hermé, but each was quite tasty. The cannelé had a well-caramelized chewy crust and a moist, boozy inside, while the macaron was had a delicate crispness that gave way to a flavorful interior.

Walking around some more, I saw that each department had its own restaurant: bakery, pizza, pasta, vegetables, cheese & salumi, fish, and meat. It was like heaven. Even the artwork on the walls were making me hungry. I knew right away that I had to have some pesce crudo (12€) from the fish counter. Raw fish is not something you see all the time in Italy, so by now I had quite a craving for it. This did not disappoint. Raw slices of salmone (salmon), lampuga (mahi mahi) and castagna (your guess is as good as mine). While I still don’t know what the last one was in English, I do know that all were impeccably fresh and delicious. Drizzled with very good quality extra virgin olive oil and accompanied by coarse chunks of sea salt (which I applied liberally), the texture of each piece was buttery tender. The shaved fennel on the side was also fantastic. Fennel is something that simply tastes better in Italy, and I don’t know why. My raw fish craving was fully satisfied, and considering how much time I’d spent in and around port cities, I was surprised it was something I’d had just twice during the entire trip up to that point. With the crudo, I had a lovely €2 glass of prosecco, which did a wonderful job of waking up my taste buds to better appreciate the delicate raw fish. I should mention that the wine list at each little restaurant was beautifully chosen to go with the specific types of food offered. And there’s a wine bar downstairs with an extensive list by the glass.

Then I moved on to the meat counter, where I enjoyed a second round of the truly phenomenal bread served at each of these stations. It was still warm, fresh from the oven. The supply is endless — all the water you can drink and all the warm bread you can eat — for a mere 1€. (I’d gladly pop in one afternoon just for this if given the chance.) It was the best bread I ate during the entire trip, which says a lot, because if you’ve read any more of this site, you know I ate a lot as usual during that time. But of course one can’t live on bread alone. He needs some wine, too. So I ordered a glass of Nebius, a red wine from the Piemonte made, as the name implies, from the famous Nebbiolo grape. Then, I had la battuta al coltello (12€), realizing that it was for the third night in a row. My condolences go out to vegetarians visiting the Piemonte; they are missing out on quite simply one of the most amazing dishes of the region. The raw Piemontese veal is just incredible. With nothing but a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil and a sprinkle of salt (well, maybe a squeeze of lemon, too), its flavor is lifted to unimaginable heights. So simple, but so good it will bring tears to your eyes once you return home and realize how much you miss it. Oh yeah, there was some green stuff on the plate, too. That lettuce? It was fine. But definitely an afterthought considering what it came with.

The following night, I decided to stop in again for a snack before heading off to eat some horse (the fourth night in a row that I had battuta al coltello, I decided it was time for a new animal) elsewhere. From the vegetable counter, I had a bowl of crema di zucca con amaretti (12€), a thick and velvety-textured pumpkin soup with tiny chunks of sweet amaretti cookies throughout. This made a tasty first course, and almost made me consider sticking around for another entire dinner here. (Did I perhaps need some salumi? Or a repeat of the previous night’s fantastic battuta al coltello?)

In the end I didn’t, but I couldn’t resist buying something else on the way out. Looking around in the cheese section for things I’d never seen before (there were plenty), I chose a chunk of saras del fen, a type of Piemontese ricotta cheese made from mix of goat, ewe, and cow milk, and wrapped in hay. Clearly an aged version, the aroma cheese and the flavor far from delicate. I didn’t particularly enjoy it, but was glad to have tried it, as I don’t think I had ever seen a cheese wrapped in hay before. Still, I needed something sweet afterwards. Perhaps I should have bought some of those cleverly named peaches (principessa=princess) I saw.

I also spied an intriguing piece of pork behind the counter, called prosciuttello. Imagining some otherworldly combination of two of the greatest pork products known to mankind, prosciutto and culatello, I desperately wanted to try some. But unfortunately I was a tad late, as they were closing up shop for the evening. No worries, though, as I will undoubtedly go back there at some point. It was just such an awesome place. If you have the opportunity to check it out, I insist — go, go, go!