What to see in Bra, what not to be missed, from Slow Food to the Cheese event, up to Caffè Converso, lunch and dinner and everything you shouldn't miss for an exceptional weekend in Bra, in Piedmont.
Vertical eleven: the birthplace of Santo Cottolengo, three letters. I have no doubts: it's Rho. I write it in the boxes, then move on to check the intersections horizontally. In the Middle Ages a fight of men on horseback, six letters. Tournament, it's simple. But something is not right: the tohneo? Yet, it is a fair tournament, and Rho is also right.
Unless Santo Cottolengo was born in another three-letter city. Could it be Bra? If so, in the horizontal intersection I would have tournament instead of tohneo. Then St. Joseph Benedict must have been born in the same city where I live. It is therefore the shame that drives me to decide to devote some time to discovering this little town of 30.000 inhabitants. To enable Bra to give my best, I focus on one list of the five things I love most, and that I would recommend to anyone wishing to spend a weekend in my city.
Slow Food and Cheese
Another illustrious Braidese is Carlo Petrini, founder of Slow Food, an association he founded in 1983. In just over thirty years, the snail movement has crossed the borders of Bra and Italy. With over 100.000 members around the world, Slow Food defends food in 150 countries, promoting respect for producers and the environment. And his commitment is put into practice with Cheese, when for four days Bra becomes the cheese capital of the world.
The last edition was attended by 300 exhibitors from 23 countries: as always, my regret is not being able to buy all the cheeses I love, not having the time to talk to those producers who have left their village for the first time on the other side of the world, and to have arrived at the stand of the motal, an Armenian cheese preserved in a terracotta amphora, when all stocks were exhausted. I spend at least an hour in the area of Neal's Yard Dairy, the English cheese shop that sells the best Cheddar raw milk and one Stilton to bring tears to your eyes.
I spend a shameful amount on cheeses and English beers, but there is a positive side: Cheese is one event that takes place in the streets of Bra, so there is no need to pay the entrance ticket. In this way, even if you do not intend to buy the products from the exhibitors, it is possible to stroll through the streets and squares of the city, which for a few days is transformed and opens its doors to visitors, making me proud to be a Braidese.
The Caffè Converso
Every time I talk to some foreign friend I spend words and words to explain that in Italy coffee, especially at breakfast, is taken at the counter. You don't sit at a plastic table in front of your laptop, or walk briskly with your iPhone in one hand and a Styrofoam cup in the other. The first coffee of the day is taken standing in a ceramic cup at the bar counter. And you drink it all in one sip. I try to make it clear to those who don't live in Italy, but then I come from Converso and I can't put it into practice. Every time I enter this historic bar, I let myself be fascinated by the classic furnishings, by the ancient mirrors made opaque by time and by the cherry wood paneling.
I take a seat on one of the leather-covered chairs and let myself be tempted by the dessert display. Probably everything is here remained unchanged since the beginning of the twentieth century, when Felice Converso opened the pastry shop that still bears his name today. I order a coffee and a glazed croissant, so buttery it almost melts in your mouth. The choice of desserts varies according to the time of year: sweet salami and chocolate eggs at Easter, handmade pandoro and panettone at Christmas, peach cake in summer. The rest of the year the constant is given by what we Piedmontese call bignole, or cream pastries in various shapes, flavors and colors: it would be unforgivable to come to Bra without tasting at least a dozen.
La Bottega Alimentare Local
After making a mid-morning stop for coffee and croissants it's time to think about lunch. As much as I love to eat, I am completely denied in the kitchen: I got the maximum gastronomic result by making one pasta with sauteed cherry tomatoes in the pan. To the point that in the Masterchef class I would not even be promoted for washing dishes. But since Local opened in Bra, I have sometimes managed to prepare lunch with my own hands, with acceptable results.
The three young managers of this shop in the heart of Bra had the ambitious idea of giving life to what was once the soul of the provincial villages: the food shop, where it was possible to buy anything from the bread of the oven behind. the corner of the farmer's milk, from the gardener's tomatoes to the beekeeper's honey. Where the owner knew all the customers by name, and where you could go shopping despite having forgotten your wallet at home, so much did you trust each other.
The goal of Local is to offer a meeting place between producers and consumers, allowing the latter to get to know the territory better. So it often happens to meet the farmers who bring the products - fruit, vegetables, cheeses - intent on explaining to a customer what they are buying and giving ideas on preparations and recipes. Here you can buy everything you need for a meal, from appetizers to desserts, including drinks. And those like me, for whom cooking is more difficult than solving a third degree equation, can order a plate of cold cuts, cheeses and focaccia, accompanied by a glass of Piedmontese wine.
Pocapaglia and the Masca Micillina
After lunch a stop is a must pocapaglia, small village of just three thousand souls on the outskirts of Bra. In the land of fortresses and ravines, the story of the Masca Micillina, una witch able to communicate with evil spirits and with the devil. There are several versions of the story, but the most accredited one tells of a woman named Michelina (and hence, Micillina) from a nearby town and married to a gruff and violent man from Pocapaglia.
To escape the violence of her husband, Michelina used to hide for whole days in the woods. No one in the village dared to approach her, either because of her shy ways or because she was a stranger. Precisely for this reason she was given the name of masca, to indicate an evil woman. Circumstances did not help the poor woman who, returning home from the market one day, found her husband lifeless, next to a mulberry tree. The rumors about her were enough to convince the man's fellow villagers that Michelina was a witch. The woman was thus accused of witchcraft, tortured and burned at the stake. Even today, more than three hundred years later, the elders of the town are sure to have seen the Masca Micillina wandering through the woods and fortresses of Pocapaglia, together with other witchcraft companions.
With a few hours at your disposal and a pair of hiking shoes it is possible walk the paths of the Masca, discovering the stories and popular traditions that are handed down from one generation to the next. Starting from the center of Pocapaglia, you pass through inaccessible paths through woods and fields, to arrive at Bricco della Masca, the hill where, according to legends, the witch was burned.
Osteria La Pimpinella
In the meantime it is time for dinner, and the walk among the fortresses of Pocapaglia has made us hungry. In Bra and its surroundings there is plenty of choice regarding the taverns, starting fromAncient Royal Crown of Cervere passing through the center of Priocca: both a few kilometers from the city where I live, both Michelin starred. But I want to try something new, so I book a table atOsteria La Pimpinella, opened only a few months ago in the premises that thirty years ago housed the Trattoria da Baffo, a historic restaurant in Bra.
Silvia and Manuel are two young guys who grew up in the world of Piedmontese catering: she in the dining room, impeccable, and he in the kitchen, intent on creating dishes. Who knows if their story resembles that of Louis and Victoire, the two very young protagonists of the novel by Grégroire Delacourt from which this place takes its name hidden in a dark and narrow alley. Young does not necessarily mean inexperienced, on the contrary: Manuel has the mastery of a chef twice his age, and this is reflected in his dishes. It starts with the amuse-bouche, served on a slate plate: Bra sausage breaded with hazelnuts and baked, chickpea sauce with grated beetroot, and fried pumpkin with bacon.
We then move on to the appetizer, a carrot muffin with Raschera cheese heart served on a bed of fondue, followed by tajarin with sausage sauce, to finish with the second, a very soft taste of braised veal cheek with caramelized onions and mashed potatoes. At this point there is really no more room for dessert, but with a glass of Renato Ratti's Barbera d'Alba I am convinced to make an effort. The white chocolate mousse is worth it: it is the ideal end to a meal and a day dedicated to my city.
