La Madonnina you recognize it for the weird window with the vintage sunglasses on display, old radios and photos of Milan that is no longer there. You understand that this is a restaurant with a sign, older than my grandmother and more old school than an old school Vespa. Inside there’s another world and if you haven’t booked there’s always waiting. Lean back at the old-style counter while you patiently wait for your turn and browse around: posters, cupboards full of ornaments, crochet doilies a bit at random, old magazines, tin signs. The dishes come out quickly from the kitchen: steaming cutlets, gnocchi with zola, saffron risotto. The great classics, in a nutshell. Between old men who talk about football and workers from the nearby offices, here at the Madonnina there is a happy cross-section of what we used to be and – perhaps – are no longer. Sit down at the table and order and eat with good speed. A frank cuisine, without any peak of excellence, but still of taste and heart.

Translated by @silaskin