Behind a bold magenta door, just off the Piazza del Risorgimento — the historic heart of Alba — lies Piazza Duomo, one of Italy’s most revered restaurants and the creative home of chef Enrico Crippa.
If the soul of Piedmont lies in the tannins of Barolo and the aroma of truffle, then Piazza Duomo is surely its culinary cathedral — a place where fine food, wine, and art don’t so much collide as converge.
There’s something of a modern Warholian Factory feel to the space: a rotating cast of muses, a tapestry of collaborations. Artists have shaped everything from the menu covers and photography to the tapestries and hand-painted ceiling of the dining room. Here, excess and restraint are held in delicate tension. And at the centre of it all is Crippa himself — reserved, refined, and unmisssably moustachioed.
Take your seat in the blush-pink dining room, frescoed by Francesco Clemente, and you’re handed a menu whose cover is a Patti Smith print. The contents? A cryptic sequence of single words — an ingredient, an artist, an artwork. It’s not so much a menu as a suggestion of what’s to come.
The first “course” arrives. I use the term loosely, because our table for four is soon covered in about 60 individual bowls. This is a curated landscape of Crippa’s garden bounty: pestos, purées, edible flowers, pickled stems, glistening seasonal fruits and vegetables. It’s a dazzling overture and a powerful statement of intent — an ode to the growers, the gardeners, and the land that feeds the restaurant.
This ethos continues into the next dish, “Insalata 21, 31, 41, 51…”. What began as a salad of 21 ingredients has now grown past 51. Numbers no longer matter; the version we’re served includes well over 100 elements, all harvested from Crippa’s biodynamic garden during not one but two daily harvests (even in the depths of winter and all before lunch). Leaves, herbs, shoots, seeds, flowers: each is selected for its distinct flavour profile — bitter, peppery, herbaceous, sweet. Over it, a warm dashi broth is poured, the delicate infusion deepening and connecting the bouquet.
Next is “The Dark Side of the Moon”: caviar, but not as you know it. It’s dark, cerebral, and sculptural: at the centre, a black tomato-water jelly, crowned with sepia and sturgeon caviar, is encircled by a ring of grated dried caviar. Beneath the surface lie whispers of walnut cream and celeriac. The result is poetic. The manipulated meets the untouched, the land meets the sea, the umami earthiness of the walnut and celeriac linger alongside the salty, briny, oceanic notes of the caviar.
The procession continues, with Crippa paying homage to Italy, artists, art, and ingredients every step of the way.When I visit, a surprise nod to home appears: rooibos. Crippa recounts how, when asked to create a dish to pair with a special wine from the Ceretto winery, he reached instinctively for the South African plant. The result is a rooibos-infused risotto — silky, smoky, subtly sweet. A beautifully vivant executed dish that is at once a memory of home yet feels entirely at home on this stage.
This is the magic of Piazza Duomo: it is utterly Italian, yet Crippa operates in a universe of his own, drawing on gardens and galleries, vineyards and vinyls, lands near and far, to compose an experience that is immersive, exquisite, and wholly original.
The same quiet brilliance extends to the service brigade, whose knowledge of food and wine matches the depth of the kitchen and the exceptional sommelier team. Where so many fine-dining rooms feel scripted or rehearsed, Piazza Duomo flows with ease.
As the final course is cleared and the last sip of Barolo lingers, it is evident that this is not a restaurant or chef merely inspired by art and artists. The artist is, in fact, present at every level: in the garden, in the kitchen, in each pour of wine, and in every detail of the room.
piazzaduomoalba.it/en/ristorante/
From the August edition of Wanted, 2025
