07/01/2026: In an age where "traditional" cuisine often means shortcuts and superficial nostalgia, Osteria n'do Saverio lu Conte is a breath of fresh air. Here, tradition isn't an aesthetic, it's a conscious practice. Let's start with the appetizer. Mixed bruschetta prepared to order with creams of wild herbs—not store-bought herbs, herbs picked on the trail. Caciocavallo, dried tomatoes, pistachios. Nothing extravagant, everything perfectly proportioned. The cheeses of the San Lorenzo Valley are where the vision becomes clear: goat's ricotta and four primosales, each with its own identity (orange, lemon, walnut, arugula). These aren't gimmick variations; they're the result of genuine research. The first course, "t'agg invitet a maccarun e carne," is made with re-milled buckwheat semolina. Simple? Yes. But behind that choice lies the understanding that buckwheat has a lower gluten content, better digestibility, and a more delicate flavor profile. It's cuisine that thinks. The second course is where everything converges: 'u soffritt, the dish that defines Bovino cuisine. Black Salecchia pig, raised on acorns, not industrial feed. The difference is evident in every bite—meat that tastes of something, that smells, that tells a story. Low in fat, low in cholesterol, but full of flavor. The aged cheeses paired with apple and pear demonstrate an understanding of gastronomy that goes beyond the recipe book: the vitamins in the fruit neutralize the salts of aging. It's science applied to pleasure. The farm's olive oil, the family's local wine, the absence of artifice—everything contributes to an experience that is not touristy, it is authentic.
07/01/2026: A very pleasant experience. A true leap back in time, with its strengths and weaknesses. Simple, flavorful, and substantial cuisine, with some ingredients clearly artisanal (I challenge you to find industrially produced asparagus, thickly sliced eggplant, or red garlic in oil), others plucked directly from the supermarket shelf (mushrooms, and something else). Mr. Saverio will tell us that everything is family-made, and we pretend to believe him; the fact remains that the primosale caciotta and the aged cheeses didn't have the air or flavor of Galbani or Auricchio. The ragù with pork rinds is prepared only by those who want to offer truly local recipes, as is the prosciutto, cut into chunks rather than slices. So I understand many people's doubts (the dining room kitchen is admittedly not the most hygienic, and the chef doesn't seem to be up to HACCP standards, and even the bathroom is for those who know how to adapt), but I believe that if you enter an osteria in the right mood, you won't leave disappointed; it's a leap back in time, and in the 1960s, osterias were like that. To those who feel cheated by the innkeeper and the chef, I offer De André's words: "If you think and judge like a good bourgeois, you'll condemn them to five thousand years plus expenses.
But if you understand, if you search for them thoroughly, if they aren't lilies, they're still children, victims of this world."
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