Bown's Best - Enoteca Pinchiorri, Florence, Italy

FLORENCE

ENOTECA PINCHIORRI

Enoteca Pinchiorri, Florence, Italy There are people who envy my life. I know this, because they have told me so. Usually, I can dismiss this as nonsense. Other people’s lives are never quite what we imagine, after all. Still, sometimes I do have an inkling of what they mean. The sun is shining, the view is magical, the hotel suite is large and kindly members of staff, properly trained and immaculately attired, are catering to my every whim. Is there a tiny something to envy here? Possibly, I might grudgingly admit. But, once in the proverbial blue moon, an occasion arises which veers so close to perfection that I have to concede that envy would be entirely justified. Thus it was in Florence. In this city of art and beauty, I sat in a restaurant regarded as one of the finest in the world and ate two of the best dishes ever to enter my mouth. Here was gastronomic rapture. I knew without a scintilla of doubt that I deserved to be envied. I was, of course, at the Enoteca Pinchiorri.

Allow me to dwell on a little relevant history. The Enoteca Pinchiorri is located in the via Ghibellina, and this is a very significant street in the history of gastronomy. Here was the Benedictine convent of Le Murate, where Catherine de Medici, great-grand-daughter of Lorenzo, learnt to cook. When she married the Duke of Orléans (later Henry II of France), she took with her to the French court her chefs, her pastry cooks, her sommeliers and her family recipes. Thus was laid the foundation of great French cuisine. How appropriate, then, that at the Enoteca Pinchiorri one of the most talented of French chefs should come to Italy to apply the culinary techniques of France to the gastronomic culture of Tuscany.

Enoteca Pinchiorri, Florence, Italy From Nice, her name is Annie Féolde, and she is one of the most charming ladies ever to grace a restaurant. She is also a wonderful advertisement for haute couture, for I have never seen her dressed other than wonderfully. How can a chef be dressed wonderfully? Well, nowadays she is the creative force behind the food and the actual cooking is done by two exceptionally talented male chefs, Italo Bassi – on the right of the picture – and Riccardo Monco – on the left – and the fine pastry chef, Loretta Fanella. Annie Féolde is thus able to spend time in the dining rooms, where she spreads happiness and good cheer to her guests.

Enoteca Pinchiorri, Florence, Italy The establishment occupies the ground floor of an 18th century palazzo. As you would expect at a restaurant with three Michelin stars, the environment is a model of good taste and style. Pink tablecloths, gorgeous flower arrangements and some seriously desirable oil paintings create a setting which is both luxurious and welcoming. I certainly felt welcome as I was greeted by the delightful Elisabetta Riccardi and taken past the statue of Apollo to my table. I was soon comfortably settled, and happy that – of course – there was no canned music. (In my battle to drive recorded music from dining rooms, it is astonishing how often I am told that restaurants must have this noise in the background. The top places consistently prove otherwise.) A little incident will illustrate the excellence of the service. As so often, I allowed my napkin to slide to the floor. Only when the new napkin arrived, did I realise that its colleague had been retrieved and taken away without my noticing. How this was done, I have not the faintest idea. I offer my congratulations to the suave Restaurant Manager, Alessandro Tomberli, and his talented team of waiters.

Enoteca Pinchiorri, Florence, Italy I might have been distracted by the 32 items on the water menu (including Bling H20 for 150ε). But, more likely, I was buried in the two volumes of the wine list. It is one of the most interesting I have ever seen. If you have a couple of weeks to spare, you should study it. Giorgio Pinchiorri (the husband of Annie Féolde – my picture shows the two of them, next to Apollo) has built up a cellar full of liquid treasures. Of its 150,000 bottles, 50% are Italian, 40% are French and 10% are from the rest of the world. Ponder for a moment the legendary 1945 vintage in Bordeaux. Here you can choose from Pétrus (21,000ε), Mouton-Rothschild (18,000ε) and Lafite (9,500ε). These sorts of riches are repeated on page after page, although it is also possible to spend just 40ε on a bottle of white Lambrusco. To my mind, the pinnacle comes with one of the pages of red burgundy. I blinked at the 17 bottles. These were not the usual bottles, but Methuselahs, each holding the equivalent of eight ordinary bottles. They included the most expensive bottle of wine I have ever encountered in a restaurant – a Methuselah of 1985 Romanée-Conti for 300,000ε.

For my own imbibing, I placed myself in the hands of the sommelier, Massimo Raugi – a smart fellow, wearing a jacket of dark red. His knowledge and expertise led me to some really enjoyable drinking from Tuscany. Into the gleaming glasses – a mixture of Riedel and Spiegelau – he poured the 2006 Poggio Scalette (Richiari - 200ε), a truly delicious chardonnay with an intriguing touch of gewurtztramner – smooth, toasty, creamy and full-bodied. The 2003 red super-Tuscan (a blend of sangiovese, cabernet and syrah) proved a bit stern for my palate, but decanting tempted it to yield up its luscious flavours of damson and blackcurrant (Avvoltore - 300ε).

Enoteca Pinchiorri, Florence, Italy Thus we come to the food. Here I must make a confession. I love white truffles. Mea culpa. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa. But perhaps you love them, too – so I will not dwell on this weakness, if such it is. Suffice it to say, that for we fungophiles there are few better places on earth during the white truffle’s short season (from October to December) than the Enoteca Pinchiorri. Of course, the smelly dears are expensive – always. The prices of the restaurant’s set meals – 200ε for 5 courses, 225ε for 8 courses and 275ε for 10 courses – seem modest when compared to those dishes which are blessed with the addition of the famous fungus. My own five course meal came in at 510ε. But this seemed a bargain in the light of the wonders it offered.

I began with a little appetizer of cold goose foie gras, with red grape jelly and a finger of toasted brioche. This was very good, but it was only the merest suggestion of the wonders to come. With the first course I zoomed up into the gastronomic stratosphere and experienced the haute cuisine of the heavens. On a black plate came two poached eggs, which had been deep fried – although their yolks were still wonderfully runny – with Jamaican pepper, Parmesan cheese fondue, zucchini cream, crisp sliced pancetta and (whisper it gently) slice after slice after slice of white truffle. The combination of flavours and textures in my mouth seemed almost too good to be true. But it was true; and each spoonful bore testimony to the Truth which results from the application of culinary genius to the bounty of the Earth.

Enoteca Pinchiorri, Florence, Italy I thought that the next course, inevitably, would be on a lower plane. Not so. After the subtle complexity of my eggs came the brilliant simplicity of my tagliolini. I looked at my plate and I could not see the pasta. It was entirely concealed by the abundance of truffle. Here was perfect pasta, soft and yielding, and perfect white truffle, earthy and aromatic: a marriage of such joy and delight it must have made the angels sing. Indeed, I am sure the angelic choir continued its harmony until my plate was entirely clean.

Then I returned to earth (for one must not spend too long in the clouds) for excellent, tender, strongly-flavoured venison, with cocoa grains, pumpkin purée, black salsify, horse radish sauce and... more truffle. From the cheese trolley I could manage just a sliver of the finest Gorganzola, for I wished to leave room for my pudding. I was in one of my soufflé periods, and so – although it was not on the menu – the kitchen, as kindly and considerate as every other aspect of the Enoteca Pinchiorri, presented me with a lovely vanilla soufflé, with raspberry sauce.

If you care about the finest food in the world, perhaps you are right to envy me for being able to eat such a meal. Yet here is a marvellous thing about our world: restaurants, even the very best, are open to all. You hardly need an excuse to go to Florence – so go. And make sure that – well in advance – you book a table at the Enoteca Pinchiorri. And rest assured: I will envy you your meal.

Enoteca Pinchiorri, Florence, Italy

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