I migliori ristoranti di cucina italiananella città Salgareda della Treviso

08/06/2026: Stunning, incredible location with a truly well-kept garden. The place is warm and welcoming, and the food is excellent. Highly recommended.

07/06/2026: We chose the new ranch to celebrate our wedding, and we couldn't have chosen better. Not only is the location a little corner of paradise, but we found the entire staff to be the best we could have hoped for, both in terms of the quality of their service, the professionalism of their organization, and the quality of their food. A heartfelt thank you to Mrs. Ada and all the staff.

30/03/2026: Elegant restaurant along the Piave River. Excellent seafood dishes. Great hospitality.

08/03/2026: On Friday evening, I had dinner at "Le Marcandole." It's not the kind of place you go to fill your stomach: it's one of those restaurants where you enter with the curiosity to see how contemporary cuisine attempts to bring order to the infinite sea of ​​flavors. And it must be said, they know how to do it. We chose the tasting menu with wine pairing, €140 per person. The pairing concept is carefully thought out, and this is evident: all white wines (with the exception of the final passito), chosen with grace and without ostentation. However, for my taste, they were sometimes too present, almost eager to express their opinion with excessive eloquence. In particular, the French-speaking nectar that accompanied the main courses had that impetuous, almost verdant aromatic personality that doesn't simply converse with the dish but tends to overwhelm it, like a brilliant diner who talks a little too much. The welcome from the kitchen was a small marine scene. A scampi skewered on a stick, with fried popcorn that crackles like an unexpected laugh, and a tiny fish toast alongside. The toast—a seemingly playful, almost childish idea—reveals itself to be a surprisingly clever gastronomic invention: crunchy, flavorful, delicately salty. One of those inventions that make you smile because no one would ever have thought of craving a fish toast... And I will continue to savor it in my memories for the rest of my life. But enough effusions, let's move on to the appetizers. The first appetizer, steamed prawns with Jerusalem artichokes, licorice, cocoa, and artichokes, is a dish that, on paper, promises a lot. Perhaps even a little too much. The licorice and cocoa remain almost metaphysical presences, more suggested than perceived, as if the kitchen wanted to evoke a shadow without actually drawing one. The artichokes, on the other hand, are magnificent: small, precise, and bitterish flashes of vegetal flavor, bringing a rustic nobility to the dish. Then comes the pink porgy with crispy Roman broccoli and cauliflower mousse. The fish is treated with an almost priestly delicacy: firm flesh, perfectly cooked, clear flavor. The broccoli—a vegetable that often suffers from a bad reputation—becomes surprisingly sweet, crunchy, almost aristocratic in its simplicity. The cauliflower mousse, however, seems too modest: a whisper where perhaps a clearer word would be needed. The cauliflower, which by nature has an almost overbearing character, here seems to have retreated into an almost virginal shyness. Let's bring this cauliflower out of its shell! The seafood risotto is perhaps the most classic moment of the evening: fragrant, with perfectly cooked rice. Here, the kitchen demonstrates its ability to do the basics without the need for acrobatics. Then comes the eggplant tortelli with roasted mantis shrimp and buffalo mozzarella cream: a visually elegant, almost painterly dish. The tortelli are magnificent, full, and rounded in flavor, with that vegetal sweetness of the eggplant that seems tailor-made for the sea. The mantis shrimp bring their ferrous, marine note, and the buffalo mozzarella cream a lactic softness that envelops everything. Perhaps, however, the salt appears with a slightly over-the-top enthusiasm, like a violinist who, overcome by emotion, raises the orchestra's volume a notch. The second course is a tuna tataki with tempura late radicchio and rose-flavored sour cream. The tuna is a joy: precisely cut, lightly seared on the surface, meaty and velvety on the inside. The rose-flavored sour cream is the most daring element of the dish: poetic in its idea, less persuasive in its balance. The rose, with its fragrant elegance, threatens to transport the palate into an almost cosmetic, yet still extremely romantic, realm. The desserts are a fitting conclusion: simple and authentic. The service deserves a special mention: young, prompt, and the dedication to delivering a wonderful tuna tartare was greatly appreciated. Leaving "Le Marcandole" makes you want to return.