Milan, no?

As an American living abroad for a decade, I hardly ever celebrate Thanksgiving. There were a few times in London with fellow American friends, but since moving to Switzerland, the eponymous turkey holiday has not been „traditionally“ celebrated with all the trimmings.

Last year, M and I took the train to Rome and met up with a dear friend (a fellow American) and her partner for a few days of food and urban exploring. The train took around six hours, with a change in Milan. This year, I wanted to continue this young „tradition“ of taking the train to Italy for the long holiday weekend, and instead of changing trains in Milan to explore further afield, we decided to stay and explore Italy‘s second largest city.

Milan is Italy’s economic powerhouse, which somehow equals in my head the image businesspeople running around in perfectly tailored suits, yammering loudly on mobile phones and wildly gesticulating while hailing a taxi. For some other reason, this also seems to equate unfriendly, rushed people milling about in the shadows of skyscrapers.

 

 

This Italian somewhat negative preconception of the cold, dark north of the country never really materialized in my eyes over the three days we were there. There was also a public transport strike on the Thursday and Friday, which apparently made auto traffic even more horrible — but honestly, I never witnessed it. Traffic flowed rather smoothly to my untrained eye, but then again, witnessing this type of traffic chaos was the complete opposite of witnessing the driving habits of the Romans the previous year.

The city streets are well ordered in grids and squares, with wide main avenues leading to grand vistas of beautiful buildings. Tram lines run through much of the city, parallel to long ornate building facades in a hodge-pudge of architectural styles that rightly give Milan one of its reputations of a European city of art and design. No matter where we walked, no matter what building, when we passed by or peeped into the entryway into one of these facades, we were greeted with intricate tiled mosaics on the floors and walls, delicate metal gates or grates and a brief glimpse into a lush green courtyard (classical statues optional).

 

   

 

  

Beneath its urban, business exterior, Milan is still an Italian city at heart — artistic masters like da Vinci and Michelangelo have left their mark on this bustling metropolis, along with the likes of empires and megalomaniacs such as the Romans, Celts, the Visigoths, Napoleon, the Hapsburgs and the Fascists. And since we‘re in Italy, we can‘t forget mentioning the churches and cathedrals, of course.

 

 

 

As with all large Italian cities, tourists flock to Milan, though probably in less numbers than I‘ve seen in the „low“ season in Rome and Florence. The crowds, as expected, are concentrated in the centre — Piazza del Duomo, Galleria Vittorio Emmanuel and Teatro della Scala. Tuck yourself away in a side street to avoid the crowds and a few blocks away from the city centre, you‘ll find quieter streets, with locals rushing past on their mobiles or with the weekend‘s shopping tow.

We can‘t mention a weekend trip to Italy without mentioning food, now can we?

We stayed in the charming Porta Venezia neighbourhood, near the central train station and a couple of stops away from the city centre. One of the city’s main shopping streets Corsa de Buenos Aires runs through it, and the surrounding side streets are home to range of international cuisines — a quick Google maps search revealed lots of Eritrean, Japanese and a range of South American fare.

But hey, we were in Italy, and while little ol‘ Thun has its own gems of Italian cuisine, they really couldn‘t compete with Milanese and Lombardian specialities, could they?

Our first meal: osso buco (veal with marrow bone stewed with wine, capers and veg) with polenta for me and veal cotolleta (the Milanese version of schnitzel, with bone in) with polenta for M. Washed down with the house red wine, of course.

The next day, we trotted over to Osteria del Treno, which serviced the city‘s railway workers. Tasty, simple and filling food at a very reasonable price. The lunch menu changes every day, with a selection for primi and secondi piatti available in a type of „buffet“ (you go up to the kitchen window and tell the chefs what you want).

Our last meal was at a family trattoria a few doors down from our Airbnb to sample the risotto alla Milanese (Milan‘s historical wealth combined with its local agricultural economy is manifest in the use of saffron and bone marrow to flavour this incredibly rich version of a northern Italian classic). I had the ravioli della casa, again topped with a rich and buttery walnut sauce.

In all these places, M and I were probably the only (if not, two of the few) non-Italians enjoying our meals. We were surrounded by groups of friends, older gossiping Italian ladies, couples, older and younger businessmen in those perfectly tailored suits (some stereotypes are based on reality, after all) — all enjoying that precious mid-day pause to be fed and watered properly before heading back to crunch numbers and keep the national economy running. In the case of the last meal, it seemed that the neighbourhood‘s local families stopped by to have their Saturday dinner with babies and nonnas in tow.

All in all, I was pleasantly surprised by what Milan has to offer, and with the cosmopolitan metropolis only a two-hour-and-forty-five-minute train ride away from Thun, this won‘t be our last visit!