The truth you don't want to hear about eating in Bologna

Let me tell you something slightly uncomfortable — and very honest.

Sometimes — not always, but often — the places Bolognesi truly love are not in the historic centre.
Not under the porticoes of Piazza Maggiore.
Not where visitors line up with Google Maps in hand and “best restaurant” lists saved on their phones.

And not because the centre isn’t wonderful — it is.
But because sometimes, wonderful isn’t what we’re looking for.

Sometimes, loving a city also means knowing when to step away from it.

The centre is beautiful, vibrant, alive.
But it’s also crowded, expensive, and sometimes a little staged. Booking a table sometimes takes more planning than the lunch itself.

So we drive out, towards the hills, quiet villages, or forgotten corners where time moves differently and food still follows seasons, not trends.

These are a few of the places I choose when I’m with friends, family, or when I want to show someone the Bologna I grew up in.

Gradizzolo, for something unexpectedly refined.
Great wines, a countryside soul, and a young chef trained at ALMA in Parma who brings back dishes that somehow disappeared from modern menus. The kind of food that feels intelligent but never pretentious.

Nuova Roma, when the craving is simple and glorious: crescentine served hot, soft and slightly blistered, eaten “a striscio” with prosciutto and mortadella, glasses clinking, conversation flowing, zero rush.

Locanda Pincelli… my place of the heart. Close to where I grew up. A small, beautifully preserved village and a restaurant that quietly balances culinary research with true courtyard ingredients. It is honest, emotional, deeply rooted. Every time I go, it feels like returning to something essential.

And then there’s Osteria Novella.
A legend among my friends. When we want meat — real meat — we go there. Fiorentina and more, cooked without shortcuts, and fries so perfect I still judge all other potatoes against them.

Here’s the part travel guides rarely tell you.

The waiters might not speak English.
The service might be slow — deliberately slow.
The card machine may or may not cooperate.
And yet… these are the tables where real Sundays happen. Where families meet. Where conversations stretch for hours and nobody checks the time.

These are not places built for Instagram. They are built for people.

And I’m telling you this because if you’re the kind of traveller who prefers authenticity over perfection, depth over gloss, then yes — you’ll feel at home here too.

You don’t come to Bologna just to “eat well”. You come to feel the rhythm of how life tastes here.

And sometimes, that rhythm starts just outside the city walls.

Before I go, a few small updates from my corner of Bologna:

• I collaborated with journalist Jade Raykovski for an article about Bologna for the NZ Herald. You can read it here (behind a paywall).

• Here’s a new blog post about Lasagna in Bologna. First of all — and this matters more than you think — we call the dish LasagnE. Plural. Always.

• You can easily get addicted to Gnocco Fritto. Consider this your gentle warning.

• Mercato Ritrovato is the farmers’ market you want in your city. I feel lucky to have it here.

• We brought a fun group of British influencer chefs to our Bologna food tour. Their behind-the-scenes moments are now on Instagram:

And as always, if any of this resonates with you — a place, a flavour, a memory — I’d love to hear about it.
Because these stories are never just mine.

Un abbraccio,

Andrea