Il Trussardi is so stylish it makes your teeth ache, and your palate whet. I had made my lunch reservation online, timed for one of the days off from my “Ring” marathon at Teatro alla Scala.
I was personally escorted up one floor by a young woman in a snug grey suit, then handed over to another handler/server who introduced me to the Hugo Boss model who seated me at a window overlooking the opera house.
Inside a glass exhibition kitchen, the chef and his team were in the throes of dramatic food prep. As I perused the three-course “business” lunch (60 euros), the San Pellegrino arrived, a huge balloon of Chianti riserva arrived, and another Hugo Boss model offered me my choice of exquisite rolls. I sank back and let myself be pampered.
The meal began with one of the best pasta dishes I’d ever tasted. Agnolotti filled with foie gras arrived topped with matchstick green apples. My server came back with a little pitcher, and as he poured the contents over my pasta he murmured, “green apple, ginger and watermelon water.” I practically inhaled the little fists of pasta, swooning over the contrast between tart apple and ginger, and the plush earthy foie gras interior. Okay, and yes, I also consumed a soft roll slathered with unsalted butter.
My second course was an impressive bit of cookery involving a large nugget of suckling pig, sided with a fig opulently stuffed with grape must, dried fruit and more pork. A graceful tracery of balsamic reduction added flavor torque to each item. And I wished for another half glass of wine to finish up the last bits. But decided against it.
A pretty dessert of strawberry and tomato tart failed to make its designer statement, although the accompanying scoop of basil ice cream was quite dreamy. I was brought house chocolates to go with my espresso. Classy. But then these are the little touches that bring Michelin stars.
Despite often leaving the restaurant still hungry I generally enjoy this type of contemporary cutting edge food, it’s beautiful to look at and a talented chef can express his or hear creative ideas in an atmosphere that will welcome them, even with enthusiasm if they taste as good as they look.
However in Italy and maybe France too, with so many of the traditional simple dishes being so delicious when prepared correctly and with care, I wonder why bother? Ultimately there is only so much one can do with food and so often the new that is offered is merely change for changes sake. It often seems a little ironic when there is currently a movement here at home as well as many other places around the world that embraces local seasonal food, the very reasons those wonderful traditional dishes were created in the first place.
Remembering some wonderful meals at little family trattoria’s or bistro’s they always seem to me to be so much more satisfying overall and when the bill comes you realise that you can afford to return the next day (and the next maybe!) and try another dish that looked so tempting.
Perhaps another example of style over substance?