Tín House 巴师傅川菜 In Roma

06/01/2025: Everything was delicious, especially the raw one. I recommend it

21/12/2024: then, one morning in the early 90s I found myself with a backpack on my shoulder, completely unaware of any future, confusedly observing the end of an era: fluttering characters, tangles of signs, curves incomprehensible to me were raised to replace a written familiar "the island of the Sardinians". a historic business ceased, giving way to a Chinese restaurant. Heng Li. New faces, suggestive dishes, never-suspected combinations of ingredients. How could I ever have suspected that over the years I would find refuge and refreshment, again and again on an almost weekly basis, in those exotic rooms. even less would I have imagined finding myself, twenty years later, saying goodbye to that corner of Via Chiabrera to emigrate to where the creators of Heng Li had in turn emigrated. Emigrating to China for ten years, and discovering that almost everything I had supposed had to be rethought - with amazement, with wonder such as I would never experience again. and one morning in the early 1920s, those of the second millennium, when I woke up from the feverish nightmare of masks and swabs, I found myself again casting my gaze on that corner of the house, on Via Chiabrera. Heng Li was now "Sushi Ki". A metamorphosis perhaps necessary, certainly painful, and yet triumphal. now, I could go on further - on that corner as a metaphor for the passing of the baton between generations, on the sign of the times. on the warmth of the past and on the chases of the present. Instead, I conclude with five permanent stars, and just a hint of melancholy for those laminated menus and those wooden carvings. for that ancient indecision, between chicken with almonds or spicy beef, counting the lire in his pocket, under the amused gaze of "Lucia".