A Taste of Lombardia

We open with the most iconic product of the Valtellina valley — Bresaola della Valtellina IGP, a jewel-red, air-cured beef that has been salted, spiced with juniper, rosemary, cinnamon, and bay, then hung to dry in the crisp Alpine air for a minimum of four weeks. The result is a silken, lean, mineral-rich cured meat with a flavor unlike any other: sweet, gently tangy, and impossibly refined. Thinly sliced and draped across a chilled slate, it is paired with a generous handful of wild arugula sourced from the Mercato di Piazza Duomo in Bergamo — one of Lombardy's finest municipal markets — and a shower of Grana Padano PDO, shaved into delicate, cloud-like curls by hand.

The dressing is a cold-pressed Lombard extra-virgin olive oil (sourced from producers in the Lago di Garda DOP zone, the northernmost olive oil appellation in the world) with fresh lemon zest and a whisper of cracked black pepper. A final drizzle of aged balsamic of Mantua — where the Gonzaga court once perfumed their vinegar with must from local Trebbiano grapes — adds a dark, complex sweetness that ties the plate together. This first course is the definition of noble simplicity: four or five premium ingredients, each performing at its absolute peak, requiring nothing more than skilled assembly and impeccable sourcing.

No menu honoring Lombardy's culinary soul would be complete without Risotto alla Milanese, the dish that has defined Milanese cooking since at least the 16th century, when legend has it that a glassblower's assistant used saffron — his prized pigment — to color a wedding risotto golden on the day of his master's daughter's marriage in 1574. The dish became emblematic of Milan itself: golden, generous, and proud. Chef Robert's version is uncompromisingly classical: Carnaroli rice from Riso Gallo or Riso Buono of Pavia — the rice capital of Italy, situated in the heart of the Po Plain — is toasted in locally produced cultured butter before being coaxed to perfect al dente with ladle after ladle of a slow-simmered beef and marrow broth.

The saffron arrives in two forms: pistils of DOP Zafferano di San Gavino Monreale steeped overnight in warm broth for depth, and a few threads stirred in at the moment of mantecatura for a vivid visual crown. The finish is pure Lombard luxury — a generous knob of 36-month aged butter from Latteria Turnaria di Cademartori in the Bergamo valleys, a marrowbone roasted alongside the risotto to be scooped directly into the pan, and a final whisper of freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano. The result: a risotto that flows like a slow wave — the legendary all'onda consistency — impossibly rich yet electric with saffron's metallic floral perfume.

Osso Buco alla Milanese — "bone with a hole" — is Milan's most beloved braised dish, a cross-cut veal shank slowly surrendering to a soffritto of onion, carrot, and celery before being braised in dry white wine and a restrained amount of broth until the collagen dissolves into silk and the marrow inside the bone becomes a prize to be scooped with a narrow spoon. Chef Robert sources whole vitello milk-fed veal shanks from Macelleria Fratelli Motta on Via Speronari in Milan, one of the city's oldest butchers in continuous operation, where provenance and quality are non-negotiable.

The braise is finished with the classic gremolata — a vital, vibrant condiment of fresh lemon zest, flat-leaf parsley, and raw garlic minced together and scattered over the dish at the very last moment. This fragrant green confetti is not decoration but an essential counterpoint: the sharpness of fresh garlic and the brightness of lemon zest pierce through the deep, unctuous braise with surgical precision. Served alongside is a creamy, slow-cooked saffron-scented polenta made from Bramata Bergamasca stone-ground coarsely milled corn, sourced from the Mulino Mariani mill in Bergamo province, enriched with Grana Padano and local butter. Together, this course is a monument of Lombard culinary civilization.

The cheese course is one of Lombardy's great gifts to the world — and Chef Robert presents it not as an afterthought but as a course deserving the same reverence as any other. Three cheeses, each from a distinct Lombard terroir, each representing a different tradition and technique, are presented at perfect temperature with artisan accompaniments.

Taleggio PDO — perhaps Lombardy's most internationally recognized cheese — originates in the Val Taleggio, a remote Alpine valley northeast of Bergamo. Made from pasteurized full-fat cow's milk, this washed-rind square cheese is rubbed weekly with seawater and sea salt brine during its minimum 35-day aging in cool grottos. The interior is buttery, slightly springy, and yielding; the flavor is mushroomy, tangy, and deeply savory with a mellow, milk-sweet finish. Chef Robert sources it exclusively from Caseificio Casera in Vedeseta, Bergamo, where third-generation cheesemakers still perform every step by hand.

Bitto Storico PDO, the "historic Bitto," is perhaps the world's most time-capsule-like cheese: made exclusively in summer pastures above 1,400 meters in the Valtellina mountains, from the milk of Brown Alpine cows with up to 10% goat's milk from the local Orobica breed. Some wheels are aged for up to 10 years, becoming dense, crystalline, and explosively complex — comparable in intensity to the finest Parmigianos. The cheese is sourced from the Consorzio di Salvaguardia del Bitto Storico in Gerola Alta.

Gorgonzola Naturale PDO (the sharper, more complex "piccante" style, aged 6–12 months) is Lombardy's great blue cheese, originating in the town of the same name near Milan. Chef Robert serves it alongside a dark, bitter chestnut honey from the Apiari della Valchiavenna, hand-selected walnuts from Lario, and thin slices of Pane di Chiavenna, the traditional semi-sourdough bread baked in wood-fired ovens in the Chiavenna valley.

We close the evening in the spirit of Lombardy's elegant, restrained approach to dessert — never cloying, always rooted in the season. This Torta di Taleggio e Pere is a warm, burnished tart in a buttery pasta frolla shell, filled with a mousse of young, mild Taleggio PDO blended with mascarpone from the Latteria di Abbiategrasso — the very town in the Po Valley where mascarpone is said to have been born — sweetened lightly with Lombard acacia honey and lemon zest. Into this cream-cheese filling are nestled slices of Abate Fetel pears from the orchards of Mantua province, which ripen in October to a honeyed, buttery softness that marries flawlessly with the mild tang of the cheese.

The tart is served warm from the oven, its surface burnished to a deep amber glaze with a wash of pear eau-de-vie. On the plate: a shimmering, translucent Moscato di Scanzo gelée — a jewel-like sliver of Italy's rarest dessert wine set with minimal agar, vibrating with rose petal, black cherry, and orange zest notes — and a scatter of toasted Piedmontese hazelnuts from the Langhe, crushed with caramelized sugar and sea salt into an irregular, shattering crumble. A quenelle of house-made saffron gelato — the same saffron that perfumed the risotto — appears as a final golden echo of the meal's guiding thread.