Sauce of inspiration

Top-notch prosciutto, to-die-for tortellini, scrumptious Parmesan andthe holy grail of kitchen condiments, balsamic vinegar. Lydia Bell takes a foodie tour of Modena.

Let the French pout and disagree, but Italy is Europe’s capital of food. Mmm... taste that creamy coffee, piquant olive oil and rich, earthy vinegar. Picture that delicate gelato, comforting pizza, perfectly cooked pasta and those taste-bud-seducing cured meats. Have no doubt, Italians simply do it better.

My Italian-born sister-in-law runs Guidetti Fine Foods, an Italian food wholesaler, and for years her cupboards have been abundantly – and nonchalantly – full of goodies. Many a time she has handed me antipasti (“In case you don’t have anything for dinner.”); chocolate-veined panettone; pasta in bizarre shapes; mustard fruits; pungent cheeses and otherwise unidentifiable food products (“Oh, that’s just an Alpine cured meat called so and so, only eaten with semi-sun-dried tomato.”).

I have come to take it for granted, along with the dirt-cheap gallons of exquisite extra-virgin olive oil stacked in my cupboards. I’ve also come to know her subtle Italian food fascism, like her disdain for “creative” pizza toppings and risotto ingredients, and the slight pursing of the lips when a cappuccino is ordered after 11am. My brother calls it her “If you do that again, I’m going to break your face like a breadstick and make you part of a Calabrian motorway” face.

The best produce, she has always informed me, comes from Emilia Romagna – by a small chance, her own turf. And this summer, I’ve come to explore that turf myself – her own sister is tying the knot in Modena’s ornate town hall.

Driving from Bologna airport to Modena, we quickly notice that Emilia Romagna lacks the Renaissance charm of neighbouring Tuscany. No sculptural, undulating hilltops, few frescoed Renaissance chapels here – it has a flat, featureless landscape. But during our days in town, Modena’s comfortingly well-preserved centre of pretty buildings – cooked by the sun in shades of tomato red, caramelised peach, egg-yolk orange, Parmesan yellow and gnocchi creams – more than compensates.

Its streets are banked by arched walkways with racks of elderly bicycles, and it feels local, for its wealth has not been brought by tourism, but by the Ferrari and Maserati car factories, small businesses, and the homewares plants that ring its centre.

At Modena’s heart is Piazza Grande, where we wedding guests keep meeting and parting for meals, open-air opera and strolling. It’s also home to a Unesco-listed, 12th-century duomo, and most of the city’s secrets can be unearthed in streets that fan out from here. I discover that Modena has a slow-burning charm that sucks you in – and pushes your belly out. It is no coincidence that Modena’s most famous son was Luciano Pavarotti.

When the wedding is over, they depart the town hall in a cloud of rice, and we party till the early hours at an out-of-town agro-tourism hotel. I go seeking top-notch prosciutto, to-die-for tortellini, scrumptious Parmesan and the holy grail of kitchen condiments: Modena’s dark, sweet, trophy product, balsamic vinegar.

The Modenesi have been making balsamic for 1,000 years, and some of their best is left to ferment for 300 years – it’s true! Families use the juice of the white Trebbiano grape, boiling it in vats before ageing it painstakingly in farmhouse attics for decades. The vinegar is passed down generations through various barrels, taking on aromas and qualities of different timbers – cherry wood, ash, oak. Each year, a little more liquid becomes thin air, while what remains takes on a heavenly quality.

At the Balsamic Vinegar Consortium (60 Corso Cavour, tel: +39 059 23 6981), I find out that Modenesi dismiss anything that hasn’t been through a 12-year process. The really good, century-old numbers are dispensed in a dropper bottle like medicine. The tiniest drop will transform your salads, or even vanilla ice cream.

On my first day, I decide to hit the classic restaurants and load up on carbs as if training for a marathon. For lunch, it’s Giusti Deli (46 Vicolo Squallore, tel: +39 059 222 533), which has an osteria out back. They do a bad gnocco fritto, and when I say bad I mean “gooood”. For dinner that night, I slurp tortellini soup in capon broth at the Michelin-starred Ristorante Fini at the Hotel Real Fini San Francesco (48 Rua Frati, tel: +39 059 205 7511, www.hotelsfrancesco.it).

Later during my trip, I lunch at super-friendly Cucina del Museo (7 Via San Agostino, tel: +39 059 217 429), which has art-filled walls and a vaulted brick ceiling. You can choose from either the “classic” or “creative” menu, the former including various pastas and the famous culatello from nearby Parma. This prized cold cut is made from the lazy right leg of a pig fed on Parmesan leftovers, and marinated for so many months that it spreads like guacamole. The creative menu is also fantastic, especially the duck breast in a cherry and Lambrusco sauce.

But we save the best restaurant till the end of our holiday – Massimo Bottura’s Osteria Francescana (22 Via Stella, tel: +39 059 210 118). “Heston Blumenthal is a very good friend,” the maître d’ assures me smoothly as we sit down. Indeed, Bottura has conjured a textured menu – foamy, creamy, silky – that blows our socks off. Tandoori guinea fowl, Lambrusco wine jelly, strawberry stew and cuttlefish-ink jelly taste better than they sound.

After we’ve hung up our napkins, we find the joint is not quite jumping – this place is about eating, not drinking. So we opt for a quiet nightcap at Il Cagliari on Piazza Grande, an old-fashioned bar with Duomo views and a charming, ancient waiter. We drink aniseed Sassolino and nocino (walnut liqueur), as we’ve had just about enough fruity, fizzy, red Lambrusco at the wedding. As we walk home we spot locals crowding around Gelateria Angelo Bianco for a midnight ice-cream feast.

My last days are all about shopping and cooking. First I visit the two best delis in town – Fini (attached to the Restaurant Fini) and Giusti (where I’d previously had lunch) – and the gloriously workman-like La Casa della Pasta which is also known as Chicco d’Oro (27a Via Francesco Selmi). My main acquisition is, you guessed it, fresh pasta.

Then I do as my sister-in-law has told me and visit the local market. Just follow the contented locals pedalling around with empty bicycle baskets. Mercato Albinelli (Via Albinelli) is alluring to the eye and taste buds. Here, I find everything from wine and liqueur to cheese, meat, olives of every shape and colour, fish and countless fruit and vegetable sellers pushing melons, pumpkins, pale asparagus, plump figs, zucchini flowers and sun-blushed tomatoes.

I can’t bring half of this stuff back to the UK, so I taste and smell what I can’t cook while I’m here. Cherries from nearby Vignola are tantalising. Parmigiano Reggiano is nutty and tart; the pig’s trotter stuffed with mincemeat is heady and gamey.

It’s mid-afternoon when I emerge to find myself outside the old-fashioned Cappuccino da Angiolina (5 Vicolo Forni). Shoehorned into a side street near the market, it’s decorated with stars of the Italian silver screen and populated by espresso-drinking, ex-Godfather types. I quickly glance around. It’s okay, the sister-in-law is nowhere to be seen – I can order a cappuccino.

More top restaurants
For casual eating, Café Concerto (26 Piazza Grande, tel: +39 059 222 232) does all the classics, as well as salads and cheeses.

For a slap-up pizza, head to Bulldog Pizzeria (28 Via Borelli Vincenzo, tel: +39 059 244 913), a memorabilia-filled joint tucked sleepily away from the centre.

For low-key chic, Restaurant Zelmira (27 Via S. Giacomo, tel: +39 059 222 351), does a mean Angus steak cooked in balsamic, plus other local delicacies.

Hotels
Hotel Real Fini Baia del Re (1684 Via Vignolese, tel: +39 059 479 2111, www.hotelbaiadelre.com). Situated outside the centre surrounded by oceans of green, this four-star is sophisticated and luxurious. The restaurant also does fantastic tortellini and carrello dei bolliti (boiled meat speciality).

Central Park Hotel Modena (10 Viale Vittorio Veneto, tel: +39 059 225 858, www.centralparkmodena.com). Located on the edge of the historic centre, this four-star offers the perfect base to explore the city. It features well-appointed rooms, panoramic views from the suites and a delicious breakfast to kick off your day on a culinary high note.