Video: Pisacco in Milan, if it weren't for that machine in the parking lot
2024 Author: Cody Thornton | [email protected]. Last modified: 2023-12-16 12:26
Pisacco I let it burn in on purpose, that I really wanted to understand how the hand of chef Andrea Berton could whet us in a place like this.
Very hot evening, it's summer, it's not a scoop. Via Solferino slowly drains that Milanese style in at least-10 heels that saturates me (god bon, it's 37 degrees and relax, right?) But the parking lot in Piazza 25 Aprile shines new in the night, a priceless work of human ingenuity.
With a payment machine rightly marked _only_ by Italian writings so much here, in the fashion district of a strongly peasant city, the foreigner does not pass.
Spray of water mist outside for smokers (excellent idea), glasses, mirrors and "concierge" in the style of the place, heel included but I guess she just hurts (and at least she doesn't sweat, because there is conditioning).
Red neon and soft music in the background, it is 9 o'clock and the place is not (yet) full.
Table for two, a bit small indeed, but beautiful chairs (perhaps more armchairs) that maintain a minimalism that is not exaggerated, also lining the seat that does not break on the usual wooden chairs of the minimal style.
It is early August, the summer menage has not yet begun but the signs are all there. We start it with mackerel and soaked vegetables (good dish in teora but it is too sweet a carpione) and gazpacho with buffalo stracciatella and crunchy vegetables (which first of all is beautiful to look at and then also very good).
Then a pea cream that hides the tomato soup with olives and pecorino cheese under the bread: a very inconspicuous serving because of the "hide and seek" of the baby food but also a little (I admit) excellent result due to the surprise factor.
On the other hand, the Berton hamburger which, perhaps, deserves some reasoning in the kitchen to improve the company of potatoes that he brings from home.
In the meantime, this is where the gilthead sea bream arrives (since the eighties I no longer heard the word plank associated with a plate) with trumpet courgettes, lemon and black olives. Nothing to say, in a good way.
Without too much breath comes the dessert (um … I understand the anxieties of a double shift but calm down, give it to you), from here a mint and licorice crumble and from there a tiramisu. The second is rather classic, the first a little too sweet even if with some salty points.
50 euros each while drinking Malvasia Klabjan from 2011, how good it must have been and how good it was. Back, definitely.
At the parking lot I repeatedly make a mistake in using the machine, even if I am Italian. Like those before me, like those after me.
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