In northwest Italy lies the region of Piedmont, which literally means ‘at the foot of the mountains’. True to its name, it is surrounded by the lofty Alps. I’ve been here before, and still, the place never fails to excite me.
We set up in the town of Alba, from where a short drive in any direction takes you to hilly vineyards, the most famous of which are planted with the Nebbiolo grape variety. Nebbiolo gives some of the world’s most astonishing wines in regions like Barolo and Barbaresco. Drinking these will satisfy even the most demanding connoisseur. It’s not all Nebbiolo of course; other indigenous grape varieties like Barbera d’Asti, Dolcetto, Gavi, Moscato d’Asti or Arneis produce incredible wines as well.
This time, I was there to taste approximately 500 of them — 100 each morning from 9 a.m. to 11 a.m. Tasting that many is not the easiest thing to do, and especially not when you’re drinking young tannic Barolo or Barbaresco in a rush. Some wineries chose to display very old vintages, allowing us to taste vintages of the same wine that date all the way back to 1952.
A tasting at the Bricco Asili winery by the famous Ceretto was a revelation, where the said ‘52 vintage was opened. This wine was over 60 years old and still had a heartbeat.
At dinners, bottles of Cogna, Bruno Giacosa, Elio Altare, Conterno, Gaja, Prunotto, Paulo Scavino, Pio Cesare and Negretti & Monchiero were paired with multiple courses. Castelmagno, a local cheese, despite its intense cat pee aroma, has become one of my favourites and I can eat any amount of feta-stuffed ravioli or soft pillow-like gnocchi. I love how the Italians are so generous with the use of cheese in making their dishes, only to sprinkle more on top of it as garnish.
A standout dinner took place at a restaurant called Bovio in La Morra. The restaurant, perched on a hill, offers a view of the mountains on the other side and the valley in between. This was no ordinary place — it is here that I ate the best risotto ever, garnished with white truffles.
Osteria dell’Enoteca in Roero was another glorious meal. The pork, cooked for nearly eight hours, melted in my mouth and paired incredibly well with the ‘93 Roero served from a magnum bottle.
Another truly inspiring dinner was at Il Falstaff. At the end of the meal, the chef and owner of the restaurant sat down at our table and offered us his own grappa and told us the story of his restaurant. He had named this restaurant after the place where he had met the love of his life that eventfully left him. He now runs Il Falstaff with his wife and daughter in her remembrance. There is nothing to beat Italian romance.
Every night, post dinner, a group of us would head down to the centre of Alba to drink Cognac at Hemingway, which is open till the wee hours of the morning.
Alba is home to the Ferrero Rocher situated in the middle of town. The factory roasts the hazelnuts late at night, before turning them into the familiar nutty chocolates we love. Because of this, the late evening air is filled with a delicious aroma of roasted nuts that only adds to the beauty of this small region where food, wine, the mountains and old architecture come together seamlessly.
