The ancient Piola

If I stop and think, I still smell the wine that simmered in the ragù.

My grandfather sat at a table with a quarter of red next to him playing cards with friends, most of the time ending badly with words but thanks to a simple shot they were all friends again. “Indianino” popsicles, glasses of water rigorously from the tap for which we children had to climb on the steel counter placed in the only room, elbowing with those who used to get the “bianchino” at 3 pm and sandwiches with salami for a snack. My grandmother, always busy preparing lunch in huge pots, kept an eye on everyone thanks to the with the French door open onto the courtyard.

The dishes of the day were few and unpretentious: green anchovies, tomini, veal with tuna sauce, pasta with meat sauce and braised meat. The menu changed based on what the season offered or what she wanted to cook. It was all very simple, we all knew each other and we all had a point of reference in which we knew that if needed we would be refreshed in a short time and with a smile. The host who served at the table was a friend, a waiter, a confessor. Sometimes I saw him sitting at the table chatting with the patrons at the end of the meal, because it was normal, in that context, to maintain human contact. Although the gruff kindness of older people never lacked.

With these memories in mind, I present to you Madama Piola. Four people came together to recreate a place that will have the same Piedmontese philosophy of the 1950s in a duly modern key, but not too much. It will be the Piedmontese tradition, a place to meet, exchange a few words, have a glass of wine and play a game of cards after dinner which perhaps will end badly words… but there will always be a shot to put everything right.