Juicy Post: An Unsual Restaurant Report

The Backstory

In July, the Resident Wine Maniac was diagnosed with a cancerous tumor on his liver—a fortuitous (but accidental) discovery on an MRI taken for his heart. That single scan plunged us headlong into the Italian national health service in a way we hadn’t imagined.

His case was analyzed by a top oncologist who, contrary to our worst fears, assured us the tumor was primary and surgically removable. A post-operative biopsy would confirm complete success or the possibility of further treatment. Even more remarkable, this oncologist’s team had studied this very cancer type for years, along with research groups elsewhere. The findings point to asbestos exposure as a probable cause, with the tumor taking decades to surface.And this type of cancer has steadily been on the rise in the West. Since the RWM once worked in construction and demolition (including buildings that required both asbestos applications and later its removal), the fit was uncomfortably exact.

The care he has received from the Italian public health system? Outstanding.

And since the Italy Insider and her mother were left to their own devices during his short hospital convalescence, we decided to dine in some restaurants which promised fish instead of beef. The RWM is famous for his polite aversion to eating most seafood. Two of the restaurants are prominently featured and recommended in numerous tourist guides, and the third is lesser known  but has an interesting history of community involvement along with featuring only fish and seasonal produce. Guess who also doesn’t adore green leafy things?

First Up: Ristorante Diana

We gave Ristorante Diana a third try—against our better judgment. Established in 1909, it’s one of those “temples of Bolognese cuisine” you’ll find reverently listed in every guidebook. Recently sold, it’s now managed by a team behind several other restaurants: Trattoria Biassanot,  Trattoria Nonna Gigia, La Taverna del Postiglione, and Ittico. (For reference: Biassanot sits on Bologna’s Instagram-famous “Window Street” and serves solid if tourist-tilted classics; Nonna Gigia is smaller, more intimate, and frankly better.)

There’s also a side story worth noting: Ristorante Diana’s prime real estate was once purchased by Milan’s Finzi Contini family. To raise cash, they rented the street-facing portion and entrance on Via dell’ Indipendenza. Today, that coveted retail space is occupied by Yamamay, Italy’s purveyor of inexpensive lingerie. Which means you must now enter the grande dame of Bologna dining from the back, on Via Volturno. 

Under its new management, the chef from Ittico was temporarily at the stoves, reportedly introducing a seafood menu. Given our prior experiences at Diana—twice, both dreadful—we were wary. The food had been uninspired, the white-coated waiters so dismissive and rude that I felt transported to a parody of Parisian hauteur. We had sworn “never again.” Where is A.A. Gill when you need him?

And yet—our waiter this time was sweet, even charming. No special seafood menu appeared, just a few dishes folded into the regular offerings. Prices hovered in the New York–Milan bracket.

A complimentary ramekin of giardiniera with a few token tiny  shrimp appeared. We ordered Franciacorta (our port in any storm, and the weather was sultry). Then came my primo: a mountain of pasta with past-their-prime shrimp accompanied by  pale and flavorless bottarga shavings. My secondo was ombrina (known to Americans as drum or croaker), limp in texture and accompanied by flaccid potatoes. Neither plate was finished; dessert was skipped.

The Franciacorta, at least, was good—an Uberti. Consider that the bright spot. And here’s Diana’s address, so you can confidently cross it off your Bologna list.

Second Venture: Osteria Bartolini

Our next stop was a restaurant in a small chain, one of three locations including one in Milano Marittima where we had a dream vacation this August. This branch occupies the courtyard and piano nobile of Palazzo Dondini Rusconi, a historically significant site. It too earns glowing mentions in both Italian and English guides.

The approach is dramatic: up a steep cobbled drive, through an arched gate into a courtyard anchored by a 300-year-old plane tree, with more greenery at the edges. Tables are scattered among bushes and under shade. Unfortunately, the ground is covered with  a carpeting of  artificial turf, which I thought diminished the garden setting. Do watch out for the steps to various carpet covered platforms.  It’s a big restaurant with seating both in the courtyard and indoors.

The menu is not extensive, and the house specialty is clearly fritto misto. Platters are generous, and that’s what most people come for. But we wanted something lighter. A “1960s style” shrimp cocktail  with a generous mound of a remoulade  mayo and a handsome tuna tartare in deep red were our antipasti. I gamely ordered ombrina again, this time paired with cicoria—or so I thought. What arrived was fresher fish, yes, but flanked once again by tired potatoes, the chicory nowhere in sight. Dessert was a raspberry cake that had lingered too long in the cooler.

Final thoughts: The staff is nice but distracted, often deep in conversation with each other. When it came time to pay, we had to chase them down at the counter.I would probably like to try their fried seafood at some point, perhaps on a day when the garden setting is more advantageous to look at. Still someone should at least take a vacuum to that carpeting…

The Winner: Pane e Panelle

The clear prize among our mother-daughter excursions goes to Pane e Panelle, tucked into what may once have been a convent complex on Via San Vitale. The entrance opens to a simply set dining room with a charming mural,  but follow the space back and you’ll find a sheltered portico and a leafy garden, overlooked by a loggia with trained vines swaying gently overhead.

You are likely to be greeted by owner Isabel Muratori, who also curates the wine list—her choices are unusual and excellent. The kitchen is in the hands of Giovanni Pappalardo, a Sicilian who trained at Capra e Cavoli, a vegetarian restaurant in Milan. Here, though, he focuses on seafood. His combinations are clever, well balanced, and sensibly portioned.

I began with a gorgeous tuna tartare brightened by a vegetal red sauce and—surprise—a wisp of French blue cheese. For my secondo, grilled ombrina appeared again, this time finally done justice, with a crisp salad of bitter and sweet greens and a side of perfectly cooked cubes of zucchine. Desserts are simple and light.

But what makes Pane e Panelle stand out isn’t just the food. Isabel and Giovanni see their restaurant as part of the city’s cultural fabric. They host evenings of music, art, and literature, as well as menus celebrating couscous or produce sourced from neighborhood markets.

Fuori Classe

My favorite of their initiatives is one they dreamed up in 2019 –  The Zitto e Mangia! program (“Shut Up and Eat!”) for local middle schoolers. For €5, the chef prepares a simple but wholesome meal—no substitutions, always with carefully chosen ingredients. It isn’t a profit-maker, but it’s a quiet revolution.

I saw firsthand with my grandson that many adolescents lack even the most basic cooking skills; cafeteria fare is usually dreary, and takeout with friends hardly better. At Pane e Panelle, these students sat at a real table in a functioning restaurant, encouraged to put their phones away and talk to each other. They discovered a pasta with squash, risotto with seafood, or a well-made vegetable dish in the company of peers rather than under the baleful eye of a parent. Table manners improved; curiosity grew.

I hope one day to dine there when one of these student tables is in session. If anything restores your faith in restaurants as part of civic life, it’s this. Plus, I’m reasonably confident the fine fare here could pass muster even with the seafood-averse spouse.