A Life Worth Eating

It didn’t take long on my trip to realize that my Fodor’s Italy guidebook wasn’t exactly infallible when it came to culinary advice. But when someone points out a restaurant as being the best in a region often considered to be the best food region in Italy, you definitely take note. I came to find out later, not surprisingly, that several food guides, from Michelin (1*) to Gambero Rosso (81), had also written about the place, so I wouldn’t exactly call it undiscovered. But nonetheless, it sounded promising, so I made the short trip up over to Asti from Alba. Not surprisingly, I chose the tasting menu that evening — Menu Tradizionale: che, dal 1971 ha fatto la storia del Gener Neuv.

Things started off some champagne, ahem, prosecco, along with four types of bread and huge grissini. The stuzzichino di benvenuto, amuse-bouche, consisted of four tastes: a frico of parmigiano-reggiano and chives topped with creamy robiola fresca cheese; a piece of an herb frittata; peperone ripieno, a yellow pepper stuffed with a creamy tuna mixture; a cube of prosciutto layered with prosciutto gelee; and finally, what tasted like some kind of potato salad. The frico topped with robiola was my favorite among the bunch, but all were pretty good.

Then came the Quadro di antipasti, composto da: Vitello tonnato, Terrina di verdure, Galantina di coniglio e mandorle, e Anguilla marinata in aceto cotto di barolo. The vitello tonnato was the best version of that dish I’ve had, with essentially carpaccio-style thin slices of rosy pink veal, topped with a tasty creamy tuna condiment redolent of briny capers and salty anchovies. Yet this classic dish is still, perhaps, not really my thing. The vegetable terrine was light and flavorful, a great summer dish. The gallantine of rabbit and almond was tasty, and had a pleasantly rustic chunky consistency. The eel, marinated in cooked Barolo vinegar, was great, definitely the best of the four. It was also served with raisins that acted as a nice sweet counterpoint to the richness of the eel.

As an alternative to any of these four antipasti that might not be to one’s liking, there was an option of Foglioline di vitello crudo, e battuta al coltello, olio, limone, e robiola di Roccaverano. I eat anything and everything, though, and once the very kind owner learned that I love raw meat, he sent this dish out to me as well. Thin slices of lean raw veal on one part of the plate, simply drizzled with olive oil, salt, and pepper. On the other side, more raw veal meat, “battered by a knife”, literally (i.e. roughly ground). This had the same simple adornments, along with a squeeze of lemon juice, and a little block of robiola di Roccaverano cheese alongside it. Fantastic. There is something special about the veal raised in the Piemonte region, no question about it. Battuta al coltello was a dish I ended up having there many more times during my time in the area, and it never disappointed.

Next up was agnolotti “ai tre stufati” (vitello, coniglio e maiale), light pasta pillows stuffed with a rich mixture of veal, rabbit, and pork. A few of pieces of pasta was a just a little bit thick and chewy near the folds around the edges, but for the texture of the pasta was very good. A bit more toothsome than most fresh homemade pastas, but not unpleasantly so. The filling was quite flavorfu, thoughI’m not sure that making it with three different types of meat really made much of a difference. As far as I’m concerned, if the traditional veal filling would be made from the same wonderful meat I’d tasted in the previous course, this needed nothing else. Overall, certainly a good dish, though.

For the secondo, I had finanziera all’astigiana (filoni, animelle, creste di galleto, funghi sott’olio, infarinati, saltati in olio d’olive e marsala). God only knows what animals, or more specifically what animal parts I was eating (well, actually, this guy knows). I’ll admit my food Italian isn’t perfect, but from what I gather, I had veins, sweetbreads, coxcombs, and marinated mushrooms all stewed together with marsala wine. This was tasty, if perhaps, surprisingly, a bit too subtle. I was expecting a bit richer flavor, but it just never came.

I spied a cheese cart, and just about all of the cheeses were new to me, so I asked if I might have a sampling before we headed toward dessert. Sure, they said. No problem. The Degustazione di formaggi piemontesi d.o.p. was absolutely fantastic. Eight different types of cheeses, along with chestnut honey, a dark cherry compote, and a fiery cherry mostarda. My favorites were one of the two types of robiola they served (the fresh, unaged one), the bra duro, and the toma di Murazzano.

I had finally made it to dessert now, with the Dolcezze di Asti: Semifreddo al torrone, Bonet, Panna cotta, Zabaione freddo al moscato d’Asti, e Sorbetto di Barolo Chinato. My, my. Everything was so good. It was my first time trying Bonet, the traditional chocolate pudding-like dessert of the region. The semifreddo was very good, as was the panna cotta. The stars, though, were the outstanding zabaglione, and the Barolo Chinato sorbet.

Of course, I wasn’t done yet, as there was still the Piccola pasticceria della casa on the way, a tray of lovely little chocolates, cookies, and confections. Always a nice way to end the meal.

All this food, by the way, was accompanied by local wines. Monferrato; Barbera d’Asti; and Moscato d’Asti with dessert. The tasting menu was €55 to begin with; the addition of the wine was nominal. The raw veal dish was gratis, and the phenomenal cheese course, I’m almost ashamed to say, only tacked on an additional €11. All said and done, I was out the door for €88. Not cheap, of course, but very well worth it, I’d say.

The family who owns and operates the restaurant was very kind, as well. The mother is the chef, with her two daughters helping in the kitchen, while her husband runs the front of the house. I spoke with all of them for a while before I departed. As I told them all about my trip, and mentioned that my next stop would be Torino. Their eyes lit up. The mother excitedly cut out a newspaper ad for me, placed it in my hand, and told me “Regardless of what else you do in Torino, go to Eataly. It is clear that you love food, and I guarantee you will love this place.” (And I did. It’s amazing.) With that, I thanked them profusely, vowed to return, and went on my way.