My travelling companions were going to Turin for the ATP year-end tennis tournament.

I was there for the food. My last visit was in 2015, and I had some unfinished business.

Hollywood star Stanley Tucci, ‘Italian on both sides’, was a source of research in the Piedmont episode of his TV series ‘Searching for Italy’, available on Amazon Prime.

First stop, coffee

We followed in his footsteps for coffee at Al Bicerin, an institution on Piazza della Consolata since 1763. They run a queuing system, and once you sit down there’s a short wait while your drinks are made, and the complimentary biscotti are plated.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pronounced Beech-erin, the eponymous drink consists of layers of espresso and dark hot chocolate, sipped through cold cream, a perfect start on a chilly morning.  ‘We suggest not to stir it’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So far, so good. Where to for lunch, Stanley?

Piola da Celso, an unassuming place on a quiet residential backstreet. Piola translates roughly as a tavern serving home cooked food.

Chef Elisabetta prepares everything herself each day, and Stanley was assured she makes the best Bagna Caôda in town. Traditionally eaten during the grape harvest and pressing, it’s a warm dipping sauce of garlic and anchovies, served with vegetables.

‘It has incredible flavour, and will give you incredible breath – the garlic kills everyone in front of you’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had to try it.

I walked there to work up an appetite, which was just as well. I was shown to a table next to a group of five men of a certain age, who were already deeply engrossed in pasta, tripe, roast rabbit, and carafes of red wine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Elisabetta’s son Carlo was called over to speak to me in English. I did my best, and he quickly reassured me ‘your Italian is perfect’. (He’s as charming as he appeared to be on TV).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘My name is Carlo, like your king’.

He recommended the mixed antipasto to start, with the last portion of Bagna Caôda.

I ordered un quartino dell’ Arneis, a 25cl carafe of the local white wine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The antipasto was a lesson in Piemontese dialect: vitel tonné, salame cotto, insalata russa, tomino with two sauces*.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*sliced veal with tuna & caper mayonnaise, baked salami, Russian salad, and tangy, creamy cheeses with red & green sauces – all specialities of the region; the salame you will only find there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Elisabetta came over, unbidden, to give me a taste of a mysterious green purée; I asked what it was, and she showed me a raw floret: ‘e broccolo, con un po di patate’…..

I ordered the agnolotti con salsa arrosto, ‘then you can decide what to do….’

An enormous pan of pasta arrived, dressed with parmesan and the rich juices of roast meat. ‘It’s ravioli, but here in Piemonte we call it agnolotti’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I reluctantly declined the offers of meat and dessert, and opted for an espresso. Lunch was 28 euros.

Carlo asked my name, took an interest in where I was from, what was my work, and offered to call me a taxi.

 

Two days later I returned, this time with reinforcements.

I had phoned ahead, and Elisabetta recognised me, greeting me with a little curtsey.

Two of us shared the antipasti, then Tajarin, similar to spaghetti but fresh pasta, with tomato, followed by a slice of Bonet, a dense dark chocolate mousse with crumbled amaretti and mandarin jam.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Carlo recommended a glass of Amaro San Carlo (‘like me’) as a digestif, a bittersweet drink with flavours of alpine herbs.

Lunch for two came to £47.

He recommended booking for dinner a week in advance. There’s no website, just a Facebook page, so phone and practise your Italian; ask for Carlo, or ask your hotel to call.

 

Back at home, I watched ‘Searching for Italy’ again.

With the help of subtitles, it was Elisabetta who stole the show:

‘This will be the best Bagna Caôda you will have in your life.

It will resurrect a dead person’.