The new menu is born from teamwork, devotion to raw ingredients, and a few distant influences that reshaped how we think about balance. A menu that tells the story of an honest cuisine—and occasionally allows itself a smile.
At Cascina Belvedì, a menu is not decided: it is built. The kitchen team builds it together, with seasonality as a compass and classic Italian cuisine as the non-negotiable starting point. Stocks, sauces, precise cooking techniques, and preparations entirely made in-house. That is always where we begin.
A cuisine that has traveled
To the years spent in kitchens, we add travel—and travel always leaves something behind. Southeast Asia, in particular, taught us a different way of thinking about the balance between savoriness, acidity, sweetness, and freshness: not a contamination, not fusion cuisine, but a new sensibility that enters the dishes as a detail, a texture, or an unexpected note that enriches them without altering their true nature.
The risotto with smoked eggplant, Greek yogurt, and Moroccan lemon expresses exactly this: classic technique and depth built on contrast. Just like the duck with almonds, cherries, and leek, where the balance between fat, sweetness, and acidity is the true protagonist. Or the grilled picanha, where we chose to strip away rather than add, letting the quality of the meat speak for itself while the chimichurri provides just the right touch of freshness.
In summer, a few extra liberties
During this season, the menu expands slightly, following the mood of the warm weather. Paccheri with seafood enters the menu, as does little tunny, alongside a sweet pepper prepared according to a traditional Valencian recipe: dishes that bring a different horizon to the table without changing our philosophy. The same attention to balance, applied to raw ingredients that ask to be heard differently in summer.
The maritozzo and the watermelon
There is also a dish meant to be eaten with your hands. The maritozzo — sweet, soft, unpretentious — is our way of reminding guests that dining should feel effortless and comfortable. And then, for petit fours, watermelon: that childhood joy of biting into the red flesh, catching the seed with your tongue, and spitting it at an unsuspecting cousin.
Sometimes the best finale to a dinner is the one that makes you smile.
A menu evolves following the seasons and the curiosity of those who create it. What remains is the simplest thing of all: the pleasure of making everyone who sits at our table feel good.
