The Prince and The Hawker

I recently visited Bologna for my old roommate’s wedding. Having lived with him previously for a year, I had heard him boast, proudly as a native Bolognese, about the amazing gastronomic scene of the area. As soon as I had my travel plans confirmed, I set about researching where I could dine when there weren’t wedding festivities going on. Multiple times during my search, I ended up reading about the one-Michellin-star I Portici in the centre of Bologna. The promise of classic Italian dishes combined with modern creativity was just too enticing to pass up. Luckily, since I was planning months in advance, I was easily able to reserve a table that worked with my schedule.

I had booked our table for the first full day we were in Bologna before any wedding festivities started. After a relaxing day spent in a thermal spa (side note: visit Terme San Petronio if you’re in Bologna; relaxation conveniently in the centre of town!) and lazily exploring the city streets, my partner and I couldn’t wait to dig into our meal at I Portici.

As we entered the unassuming entrance to the restaurant from the street, we were immediately greeted by the smiling host who led us to our table. We could feel the professionalism, but there was still an air of friendly “laidbackness”. As we were led into the main dining room, we were taken aback by the expansive space. Evidently, my research had not uncovered that we would be dining in a space converted from a historic theatre. It turns out that I Portici is housed within a building that was a famous café chantant, the Eden Theater, built in 1899. One could immediately recognise the historical elements of the room. The entire restaurant has been tastefully restored, from the Liberty-style frescoes to the lighting fixture behind the main stage paying homage to the building origins.

We were seated at a table on the main floor. Tables were arranged along the perimeter of the room, as if set up for a thé dansant. The mostly two-tops were arranged with chairs facing into the middle. Interestingly, there was one table in the middle of the large room. I imagine it would be an odd place to sit with everybody looking towards you, but luckily the table remained empty all night. There was also a table set up on the stage for a large party. It’d definitely be a unique experience to dine up there.

Looking through the menu, there were options for a la carte dining, as well as five- and seven-course tasting menus. Always intrigued by a tasting menu but having eaten quite a bit that day, we opted for the five-course tasting menu. This turned out to be the perfect choice for us since the many interludes in the meal (as you will soon see) made it feel more like a ten-course meal.

Since my partner is pescatarian, we asked if they could accommodate this with the tasting menu. The waiter informed us it would be no problem to replace the poultry dish with a fish dish, except that I (with no dietary restrictions) would also have to have the substitution. I’ve never actually encountered this situation before, but I was happy to oblige. I’ve worked in restaurant kitchens before and I know substitutions can easily throw off precise timings. Besides, I love fish!

Time to Eat

The first dishes brought to us were a varied prelude of snacks. They really set a tone of playful creativity for the rest of the meal. I tried desperately to absorb every meticulous description the waiter recited to us, but alas my short term memory failed me. Every little bite was delicious though. In the haze of gastronomic delight, I particularly remember the zucchini cream filled “lemon”, the “bao” with mascarpone, and the marinated pearl onion. There was also a delicious piece of fried bread, light as air, traditional and typical of Bologna.

Almost unexpectedly, we were brought a flourish of bread. Again, the waiter patiently explained each different bread, and again my memory failed to remember everything. Among the mix were a simple white slice, foccacia, onion roll, olive loaf, croissant, and two types of breadstick. I was in complete gluten heaven. Every bite was a new adventure. They also served some olive oil alongside in a cute dipping dish. The bold and pungent olive taste really shone through, indicating the high quality of the oil. Nothing less would be expected from this calibre of restaurant. We continued to graze on the bread throughout the meal.

Next up was a fun little amuse-bouche of fried bread, creme fraiche, salmon roe and chives, topped with a gold leaf. This was accompanied by a small cup of tomato water. It’s difficult to describe the enjoyment I had from this dish, but let me say I have never been this excited about tomato water in my life. At this point, we felt like we had already gone through a full culinary adventure, but we technically hadn’t even had our first course; this had just been the overture!

The first official course on the menu was the tuna “panzanella”. Our server explained that this was the chef’s interpretation of the traditional Tuscan bread salad using unexpected ingredients. Tuna carpaccio wrapped around tomato was served between some jellied soup and sprinklings of buckwheat and onion. The jellied soup was a lot tastier than it sounds. I thought it gave an impression of the spongy texture you expect in a bread salad. The tuna carpaccio along with the acidity of the tomato and seasonings perfectly emulated the tangy dimensions of a panzanella.

The next course was the zuppa imperiale, a traditional Bolognese soup with semolina dough cubes served in a broth. The version served looked a lot fancier, but somehow the combination of the ingredients made the dish still taste humble, if that is an adjective one can taste. The vegetables, porcini mushroom, and parmesan all shone through harmoniously. This didn’t detract from the tasty morsels that were the semolina dough balls. And I haven’t even gotten to the broth yet. The savoury broth somehow tasted like a creamy soup full of flavour, even though it was clearly (pun-intended) a broth.

As we moved on to the dish titled “Fagottelli” 12 – 24 – 36, the dish placed in front of us was completely unassuming. Almost monotone in colour, it looked like a simple plate of pasta. I was wrong. This turned out to be arguably my favourite dish of the evening. Our server explained that the chef wanted to highlight different aged pecorinos. The 12-month aged was used to flavour the broth the pasta was cooked in; the 24-month aged was used to fill the pasta; the 36-month aged was grated on top to garnish the dish.

I expect that if this dish was not executed well, it could have turned into a melting pot of cheesy overload. This was not the case and I could taste every distinct profile. As I took a spoonful, the subtle flavoured broth shone through, introducing the dish. Then my taste buds were assaulted (in the best possible way) by the sharp, grated cheese on top. As I began to chew, the creamy filling of the middle-aged pecorino made its way through the crowd of flavours to round out the dish. This procession of tastes repeated with every mouthful. I still dream about this dish sometimes.

Unfortunately, after the high point of the meal came the low point – the turbot with almond sauce. Let me be clear that this dish was still a well-executed dish at this calibre of restaurant. This fish was the pescatarian substitution for the original pigeon dish. The greens on top were fresh and the almond sauce was tangy and interesting. However, I’m not sure how well the sauce paired with the fish. The actual turbot was cooked beautifully, if a bit bland. It seemed they wanted the fish to speak for itself, but it didn’t have much to say. Overall, it left me a bit wanting, and wondering with intrigue what the pigeon dish on the original tasting menu would have offered.

To wipe the fish out of my mind both physically and figuratively, a pre-dessert was brought to the table in the form of a watermelon apple sorbet, vanilla and lemon. This really did help my palate reset. The distinct flavours of every element of this small dish was present and distinguishable but they were subtle and really embodied a palette cleanser rather than if the dish was conceptualised as say, an amuse-bouche. I appreciated the thoughtfulness. I appreciated it so much that in my haste to consume it, I forgot to take a photo!

After I had composed myself, the last of the official courses was served. This dessert consisted of a almond candy on top of candy cedar served with marzipan gelato. The server simply explained the almond candy was typical of Bologna. However, retroactively thinking about it now that I’ve attended my Italian friend’s wedding, the main part of this dessert reminded me of the Italian celebratory candy “confetti” traditionally given as wedding favours. The bittersweet almond notes were quite similar. I’m not always a fan of marzipan, but in this case, the subtle notes worked in the gelato form and it brought the whole dessert together as a very almond forward dish. It worked for me.

Now properly stuffed, there was one more surprise left in store for us – an array of petit fours. I wasn’t quite sure why we were served six types of petit fours when the menu stated “The 7 secrets of Bologna”, but it didn’t matter much to me. The petit fours themselves were a taste symphony. From left to right in the photo below, the flavours were coffee, fruit jam, white chocolate, ginger, chocolate pistachio, and an orange cinnamon madeleine. I personally ate them in order, but I’m not sure if they were strictly meant to be a progression. Nonetheless, we enjoyed them immensely while sipping our espressos. They were an absolutely perfect end to an adventurous meal.

Final Thoughts

Everything about I Portici exuded the class and polish one would expect from a Michellin-starred restaurant, while still delivering in a relaxed, friendly tone. There were subtle hints of thoughtfulness such as the mini stools set out beside tables for ladies’ handbags. Service was precise and professional. I especially enjoyed watching the well-orchestrated service executed from the large centre service buffet. The food was beyond amazing, and really delivered on the promise of combining creativity with traditional Italian. The meal brought me on an adventure that also taught me some new things about Italian cuisine, which I always appreciate.

At €110, the five-course tasting meal was on the premium side, but absolutely worth it. It was also a nice touch for the chef to come out at the end of service to thank us for dining, though he had a much longer conversation with other tables, presumably because we didn’t speak Italian. With the calibre of the meal, I can definitely overlook the comparatively blasé turbot dish and would definitely revisit this restaurant on my next trip to Bologna.