A Tuscany adventure - #4, Cena! A night at Trattoria di Montemagno

Cena! A night at Trattoria di Montemagno

The Italian dinner is no small deal. A normal dinner as eaten by the family will contain

• Antipasti (starters)
• Primo (first course)
• Secondo (second course)
• Dolce (dessert)

And for a big meal there may be more than one of each. No wonder they cannot eat a big breakfast in the morning!

In Montemagno there is a trattoria or restaurant. It is simply called Trattoria di Montemagno and it is widely known for its simple but excellent food. People flock to it from near and far, and not only tourists. That is a sure sign that a restaurant is good; that the locals queue up at mealtimes.

Trattoria di Montemagno does not advertise. If you wander round the village looking for the name in neon, you will probably perish of hunger. If you do not know where it is, you have lost. I, luckily, knew where it was as my host had taken me there on previous occasions. This particular night I was alone in the house, and decided to venture downtown (as in go down the steep road to the lower part of the village) to chew the fat.

I have been trying to learn Italian for a number of months, so I was set on communicating solely in that language as I eagerly stepped through the door at 7:30 asking for una tavola per una, per favor. But the waitress smelled the rat immediately. Anyone looking as non-italian as I do and asking for a table a full half hour before the official dinner gong must be a tourist, so without hesitation she flung her English at me and I had lost.

I did know I was too early. Dinner is at 8:00 pm. Or later. The point is that being as good as it is, this place is often packed full, and I had not booked a table, so I was trying to be on the safe side. I did get a table. I was, of course, the first guest. They are closed on Mondays, and on Tuesdays and perhaps Wednesdays you can generally get a table without booking if you are not too late, but from Thursday on you should definitely book!

Trattoria di Montemagno is not a fancy place in any way. The most fancy item there is the elaborately carved bar in dark wood. The rest of it looks like a cheap cafe, but in a good way. Homely is the word I am grasping for. Simple furniture, yellow painted walls with a few pictures on them, blackboards with today's menu. I odrdered the house antipasti, the risotto con caprino e peperone, the tongue with a tomato and onion sauce and the peach tiramisu. And half a bottle of red wine.

When it comes to wine, you have four choices. Red or white, whole bottle or half. That is it, and that is enough. The bottle are unlabelled and the contents are drawn from larger sources in the kitchen. The wine is excellent. I had the red and it tasted like (and probably was) a young Chianti.

My antipasti consisted of a crostino tasting of olive oil and garlic, a small dollop of a salad of some sort with something resembling cous-cous, a piece of omelet and a slice of ham. All well prepared and tasty. The risotto was perfectly cooked. Creamy, but still with a slight bite to every grain of rice. And packed with flavour.

As I ate my risotto, the church bell struck eight, and suddenly they started pouring in like cattle coming home for the night, the people who knew when dinner was supposed to commence. Within the next ten minutes I counted six or seven parties entering with anticipation written all over them.

At precisely 8:08 an elderly man in a red shirt and a matching scarf entered, book in hand. He might have been around 75-80 years old, and I would be very much disappointed if he turned out not to be the local artist. After having studied the blackboard for a minute, he ventured into the kitchen, probably to order something else. Out there he erupted in song before coming back, sitting down to what probably was his usual table and started reading.

My tongue arrived. Tongue may be hard to do right and may be tough and not at all pleasant if not cooked to perfection. It requires a great deal of love. This particular instance of the species had been caressed and loved for quite some time and was a heaven of tenderness, succulence and taste.

By 8:40 the premises were quite full of people who ate, drank and talked as only Italians can. As a ate my light, tasty, sweet and well made dessert, I envied those who live here and can do this every night. Or at least several night every week. Like the elderly artist. As he got his second course, he took one glance at it and sent it back out. After two minutes the cook came in with it again, and this time it seemed that everything was in order. I don't know what that was about.

Four courses, water and wine, 26 Euros and 50. In Norway this would easily have been at least 65 Euros at a mediocre place. And the Trattoria di Montemagno is not mediocre. I said buona sera and strolled out into the night a better man.