The Best Places in Italy

Thirty-seven acres of botanical gardens spill down toward the Costa Smeralda, which tells you most of what you need to know about the scale of ambition here. This Forbes Four Star resort in Baja Sardinia has the bones of an Italian villa, sand-toned stone and traditional textiles keeping it grounded, while the live DJs and late-night cocktails are imported directly from the Ibiza playbook. Porto Cervo is close, but the property is secluded enough that you'll barely notice.

The spa pool here drifts between indoors and outdoors, mirroring the Dolomite plateau around it until you genuinely can't tell where the building ends. This eco-conscious mountain resort, designed by a local firm using sustainable materials, earns its Forbes Four Star in the kind of setting that makes wellness-speak feel less embarrassing than usual. The COMO Shambhala spa runs Finnish and bio-herb saunas alongside guided snowshoe hikes, ski excursions, and summer climbs.

A saltwater pool carved from granite sits at the edge of the sea, which tells you everything about the philosophy here. Hotel Pitrizza is a small, secluded luxury resort on Sardinia's Costa Smeralda, where the buildings are so thoroughly folded into the hillside that rooftop gardens disappear into the landscape. Rustic Sardinian stonework and handcrafted furnishings do the heavy lifting inside; outside, a private beach handles the rest.

A corner of Ragusa where breakfast slides into wine and cheese slides into dinner and nobody seems particularly eager to leave. This all-day Sicilian trattoria doubles as a shop stocked with the best of the Val di Noto, so you can eat the region and then take a bit of it home. The cooking leans into tradition with a light modern hand, and tasting menus run from a vegetarian four courses up to seven surprise dishes.

A large Travertine marble counter greets you at the door, and the dining room beyond sits beneath a skylight that turns midday into a minor event. This is a Roman trattoria with a serious focus on meat, particularly the offal cuts that the city has eaten forever: tripe, sweetbreads, oxtail in forms both traditional and quietly inventive. The chef's roots are in Testaccio, which is to Roman butchery what Bordeaux is to wine, and it shows.

A modern trattoria in the heart of Marsica where vegetables hold the center of the plate and fermentation shows up in careful, measured doses rather than as a statement. The room is spare and bright, the kind of place that earns its seriousness without announcing it. The cooking follows the season and the territory, and the flavors are clean in a way that suggests someone in the kitchen actually knows when to stop. Selected by the Michelin Guide.

The estate at Saiano raises the animals and works the land; what ends up on the table at this celebrated Romagna trattoria started there. The kitchen has been turning out green lasagna, piadina, and slow-braised country dishes for decades, with a chef who's become something of a local legend. The setting, inside a medieval village, leans theatrical in winter when the old theater rooms open up and the whole thing feels slightly unreal.

The fish parmigiana alone explains why this seafood restaurant on Corso Garibaldi draws a crowd. The kitchen works strictly with non-farmed catch from the Cilento coast, moving between raw preparations dressed with oils and aromatic salts and long-loved pasta dishes done with quiet confidence. The room is bright and unfussy, the service informal without being careless, and the wine list knows when to stop.

A cotoletta so thick it borders on a statement, this is a modern trattoria that takes Milanese cooking seriously without taking itself too seriously. Risotto alla milanese, ravioli, the classics are all here, restated with care rather than reinvented beyond recognition. The room is warm and unhurried, the kind of place where the service feels like it knows you even on a first visit. An extensive wine list keeps things moving.

Perched near the top of Positano's steep hillside, this boutique hotel started life as a private residence, and the rooms still feel more like a borrowed house than a lobby operation. Thirty-eight rooms, a rooftop pool with the kind of views that make you cancel your afternoon plans, a small spa, and a complimentary shuttle to the beach for anyone unwilling to negotiate the steps twice in an afternoon.

A private tunnel connects the hotel to its floating beach club on the Bay of Naples, which tells you pretty much everything about the register here. This cliffside hotel in Sant'Agnello sits just past Sorrento's crowds, with a nautical palette of deep blues and white linens, lemon-scented gardens around the pool, a rooftop restaurant, and a spa. The art deco bones have been restored with care, and the family-run feel keeps it from tipping into corporate cool.

A soft pink palazzo perched above the Amalfi Coast, its gardens tumbling down the mountainside toward the sea. This mountaintop hotel has been around forever, a proper old-school Ravello institution with clifftop views that make it hard to check out on time. The Avino family runs it with the kind of attention you notice. Guests arrive for the scenery and stay for the particular stillness that comes with being very high up and very far from anything ordinary.

A 1,500-hectare Umbrian estate where the rooms used to be farm ruins and oak woodlands, restored over decades by one family with an evident allergy to cutting corners. Reschio is a countryside hotel that lands somewhere between working estate and fever dream: stone, hills, biodiversity, and the particular quiet that only comes with that much land around you. It ranked on The World's 50 Best Hotels list.

Trout with celeriac purée prepared tataki-style is the dish that signals what kind of restaurant this is: a regional Trentino kitchen that quietly borrows from Korea and Japan without making a fuss about it. The menu shifts with the market, so the specials board does the most interesting work on any given night. Regional wines anchor the list. The Michelin Guide has given it a Bib Gourmand, which tracks for a place this personal and unfussy.

The wood-fired stove has been running this country restaurant for generations, and nobody has seen much reason to change that. Set in the hilly Piedmontese countryside outside Cartosio, Cacciatori serves deeply local, seasonal cooking in the kind of room where the wine list skews toward serious Langhe verticals. A Michelin Bib Gourmand, and guestrooms if you'd rather not navigate those hills after dinner.

Barrel-vaulted ceilings and a courtyard tucked under old stone porticoes set the scene at this Apulian trattoria in Ceglie Messapica's old town. The kitchen works through regional recipes with the kind of conviction that makes a menu hard to navigate quickly, in the best sense. The Michelin Guide has given it a Bib Gourmand. Book ahead; the locals already know about it, and they got there first.

Apulian trattoria that grew out of a family butcher shop and never really left those roots behind. Meat still anchors the menu, and the kitchen garden supplies vegetables that show up in a long procession of antipasti and fresh pasta. The wine cellar runs to over 300 labels, which is serious for a town this size. A Michelin Bib Gourmand, and there's a small B&B next door if the meal stretches, as it tends to.

A family-run osteria in a small Lombard town that's been around forever, with a veranda, a home garden out back, and a menu that changes with the seasons. The cooking is old-school Lombardian, the kind where tongue with pickled vegetables and tripe with boiled meats sit comfortably alongside homemade tarts. The Michelin Guide gives it a Bib Gourmand, and the wine list leans heavily into Franciacorta. Book ahead.

Cherasco is famously snail country, and this welcoming osteria in the town's quiet historic centre leans into that without apology. It's a traditional Piedmontese dining room where the kitchen updates regional classics rather than dismantling them, and the friendly staff will walk you through the menu without making you feel like a tourist. The Michelin Guide gave it a Bib Gourmand. The wine list runs deep, as you'd expect this close to Barolo.

The vitello tonnato here has a near-mythic reputation in Turin, which tells you something about the regulars. This is a trattoria in San Salvario, the neighborhood where artists and students share tables, and the menu moves from Piedmontese classics like tajarin and plin to the occasional taco with chimichurri without anyone raising an eyebrow. The wine list is considered and the lunch deal is gentle on the wallet. A Michelin Bib Gourmand.

Steps from the Lungomare in Bagnara Calabra, this intimate trattoria has been around forever and holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand for cooking that threads Calabrian and Greek flavors together without making a fuss about it. The chef's roots do the talking: squid stuffed with feta, swordfish prepared with care. Small room, warm room, the kind of place where you feel less like a customer than a guest someone actually wanted to show up.

Sit outside long enough in this tucked-away hamlet and you'll forget the city exists, which is probably the point. Trattoria Ai Due Platani is a Bib Gourmand trattoria rooted in Emilian cooking, the kind of place where the menu reads like the surrounding countryside. The kitchen stays traditional but lets a quiet creative streak surface in plating and flavor. Book ahead, because the province has already figured this one out.

A former monastery on its own private island, a short water taxi ride from the chaos of the Rialto, San Clemente Palace is the kind of resort that makes Venice feel like a secret you kept from yourself. The grounds run to gardens and a heated pool, the lagoon views arrive with every meal, and the spa leans into the monastic herbs with some self-awareness. The rooms carry the weight of the old stone walls without feeling like a history lesson.

Seventeen different room types sounds like a lot until you're actually choosing between a sea-view terrace and a private patio with the Sardinian coast as your sleep soundtrack. This Forbes Four Star resort sits on a mountainside above some of the island's quietest beaches, with Studio Marco Piva interiors that lean on local stone and minimalist lines rather than fighting the view. Bespoke excursions, an outdoor spa lounge, and an alfresco dining room do the rest.

Its own private island in the Venice lagoon, connected to the city by hotel boat, which already tells you what kind of trip this is. The JW Marriott Venice is a full resort spread across five distinct accommodation areas, from garden rooms in the main building to a two-bedroom villa with a private pool facing the water. A century-old olive grove shades one wing; the lagoon is never far from any of them. Pack accordingly.

The soft, stringy dough is the whole argument here, and Enzo Coccia has been making it in a residential neighborhood far from the tourist scrum for longer than most of Naples's celebrated pizzerias have been on anyone's list. Classic Neapolitan pizza, traditional and creative toppings, and a five-grain roll called the 'mpustarella that fills the fried-snack gap so neatly you barely notice there are no fritti. A pilgrimage pizzeria, in the best sense.

A Neapolitan pizza restaurant on the Riviera di Chiaia, a few steps from the waterfront and a world away from tourist-trap pies. The dough here is thin enough that you actually cut it, which in Naples is a quiet statement of intent. The team puts serious effort into sourcing oils and tomatoes, and it shows most clearly in the margherita. The wine list is thoughtful for a pizza place, which is either a nice surprise or exactly what you'd expect from this neighborhood.

A Forbes Four Star resort on Sicily's southern coast, Verdura sprawls across 560 acres of olive groves between the Mediterranean and not much else. That isolation is the whole point: golf, a private beach with capoeira classes, tennis with former pros, and a pool long enough to swim actual laps mean guests rarely feel the pull to leave. The Rocco Forte property is built for people who want maximum options and the freedom to ignore every one of them.

Tucked down a side street under Bologna's porticoes, this trattoria treats Emilian cooking as a thing that doesn't need improving. Fresh pasta, cured meats, local wines, and a zuppa inglese with alchermes cake that closes the meal in the most unapologetic way. The room is small and warm, and it books out every day, so reserve before you assume good fortune is on your side.

The menu is handwritten and changes with whatever came in that morning, which tells you what kind of restaurant this is before you've sat down. A small, softly lit Tuscan trattoria in Milan, Autem runs on the chef's personal flair, from the open kitchen where he greets you to the table where he'll likely check in himself. The cooking is focused and unhurried, the kind that makes a short menu feel like a considered edit rather than a limitation.

A late 19th-century wooden door opens into a sequence of dining rooms furnished with mid-century antiques, which sets the slightly theatrical tone for what follows. This is a tasting-menu restaurant in a Lombardy village, where the chef runs two menus, one classical and one more experimental. The sommelier steers the wine pairings, with a particular eye for regional bottles that don't appear on every list.

A young chef cooking Ligurian to its bones, right at the tourist marina in a tiny clifftop village where the sea view alone makes the GPS confusion forgivable. This is a tasting-menu restaurant, though you can order à la carte, built around the region's produce: Albenga artichokes, Pigna beans, pine nuts, local seafood, and the foraged herb mix called prebugiun. Everything on the plate is an argument for staying in Liguria forever.

Olive groves and golden stone frame this countryside restaurant outside Noto, where the kitchen takes Sicilian land seriously enough to occasionally dress pigeon in Chanel red. The chef's cooking runs classical in its bones and contemporary in its execution, with local ingredients pulled into menus that feel like they have something to say. The dining room is small and bright, the windows face the countryside, and the wine cellar doubles as the morning breakfast room.

On the seventh floor of the Excelsior Hotel Gallia, with the central station rooftops spreading out below, Terrazza Gallia is a fine dining room where the kitchen leans Mediterranean and the Campanian chef's flavors run rich and direct. Fendi and Busnelli furnished the space, which tips from glamorous at lunch to genuinely cinematic at sunset. The wine list is impressive and priced to match the view.

A trattoria in Cerignola that grew out of a family delicatessen and never quite forgot it, so the pantry instincts run deep. The cooking is rooted in Apulian tradition, unfussy and ingredient-led, the kind of place where quality shows up in the simplicity rather than hiding behind it. The room has the warmth of somewhere that has been doing this for a long time and means it. Selected by the Michelin Guide.

Pink and purple jellyfish hang from the ceiling near the staircase, and a goggled diver crouches frozen mid-launch by the pool wall: Capri Tiberio Palace commits to its retro bit with real conviction. This boutique hotel runs on a 1950s and '60s aesthetic, vine-covered garden paths, a rooftop terrace, spa, restaurant, and Jacky Bar for nights that go late. The Piazzetta is a short walk, so the oasis is optional.

Perched on the western shore of Lake Garda, this grand old lakeside hotel has been turning its terrace into an argument for doing absolutely nothing all afternoon for well over a century. Vaulted ceilings, antique furnishings, and a spa filled with natural light set the tone inside, while the hotel's own boats offer a way out onto the water when the view from your glass of red wine stops being enough.

The name means "here one heals," which remains a reasonable excuse to book a suite on Capri's most famous street. This grand hotel has been the island's social headquarters since forever, its white facade and orange-blossom gardens drawing the kind of guests who prefer not to carry their own luggage. Pools, terraces, a spa, and the street-side Quisi Bar keep guests occupied from breakfast through whatever hour counts as late on Capri.

Peach-colored walls on a cliff above the Faraglioni rocks, with a pedigree that traces back to Le Corbusier's original design. This small luxury hotel on Capri rewards the climb with sweeping sea views and interiors that blend original tapestries and antique paintings with 1930s-inflected furniture from a recent refresh. The pool terrace is where everyone eventually ends up, staring at the same water they came to Capri to stare at.

Original art by Keith Haring and Arnaldo Pomodoro lines the corridors of this whitewashed resort perched above Anacapri, which makes the gin bar feel like a bonus rather than the main event. Five restaurants and bars, most with sea views, handle the eating. The spa runs a signature circulation treatment called Leg School Therapy, which sounds made up until you're already booked. Helicopters, speedboats, and chauffeurs sort the transfers.

A cliff hotel perched a thousand feet above the Bay of Naples, with views that sweep from Vesuvius to the Sorrentine peninsula and down to water so blue it looks retouched. The Terrace Bar serves oysters and champagne while you absorb the spectacle, and nearly every one of the 55 rooms faces the sea. A statue of Caesar Augustus stands guard on the grounds, eyes fixed on the water, apparently unmoved by the whole thing.

Carbonara, cacio e pepe, amatriciana, gricia: the Roman canon, cooked straight, no editorializing. This Ostiense neighborhood trattoria has a Michelin Bib Gourmand and a reputation that now reaches well past its own streets, so book by phone or don't bother showing up. The room is simple and unhurried, the service genuinely warm in the way that can't be faked, and a handful of more creative dishes sit alongside the classics without disturbing them.

A converted medieval hamlet in the Chianti hills, Borgo San Felice is a 60-room resort where the buildings were once a bakery, an olive press, and wine cellars. The vineyard is still working, the spa leans into grape-must treatments, and two restaurants keep you from ever needing to leave. Siena is close enough for a day trip, but the hot air balloon over the hills at dawn makes a reasonable argument for staying put.

The dining room is a natural cave, which sets the tone before the food arrives. Forentum is a casual country-cooking restaurant in Lavello's historic center, with a terrace out front and Basilicata's pantry driving the menu, plus occasional seafood and, come evening, pizza in three distinct doughs. It holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand, and the crowd seems largely local, which in a town this size is its own endorsement.

Trippa alla romana and fried brain share the menu with carbonara and amatriciana at this no-frills trattoria near the Vatican, where the pasta comes in a notably generous pour and the kitchen doesn't stray far from Lazio tradition. The room is simple to the point of looking accidental, which is precisely the point. The Michelin Guide gave it a Bib Gourmand, and locals who could walk here fill the seats alongside tourists who found it on purpose.

Tucked into a piazza between Campo de' Fiori and Piazza Navona, this old-school Roman trattoria has been around forever and earned a Michelin Bib Gourmand doing it. The menu reads like a greatest-hits of the city: carbonara, cacio e pepe, amatriciana, meatballs. The room is rustic and always packed, because at this price and in this neighborhood, where else would you be.

A bistro overlooking the Sant'Ambrogio market, which sets the tone for everything on the plate. The room is spare and the cooking matches it, straightforward Tuscan with flashes of imagination, the kind of place where squab turns up in agnolotti and feels like a completely natural idea. The wine list leans regional and runs across price points without making a fuss about it. A Michelin Bib Gourmand, and a small terrace for when Florence cooperates with the weather.

Counter seating on tall stools runs the length of the room, sushi-bar style, which makes for an odd first impression in the Oltrarno. The food, though, is straightforwardly Tuscan: a blackboard menu of ribollita, peposo, and pici that shifts with the season and whatever the chef feels like that day. No reservations at lunch, which keeps things lively. The Michelin Guide awards it a Bib Gourmand.

A neoclassical facade on the Lake Como waterfront in Menaggio, with the kind of ornate molding and chandeliers that make you feel underdressed just walking through the lobby. This hotel pairs that old-world bones with freshened interiors and modern furnishings, so it reads more lake house than museum. Balconies look straight out over the water, the spa is properly calm, and the pool is the sort you photograph before you get in.

The low-slung terracotta rooflines and weathered wooden beams were designed to look like a Sardinian fishing village, which is an ambitious premise for one of the Costa Smeralda's grandest luxury resorts. It works, somehow. Private coves, a waterfront pool, and suites with hand-painted furniture and sea views keep things from feeling too theme-park about it. Watersports and yacht excursions are on hand for guests who find lying still professionally difficult.

A few steps from Piazza Navona, this small contemporary Italian restaurant holds a Michelin Bib Gourmand and a menu that can't quite decide if it's in Rome or somewhere more adventurous, which turns out to be the point. Oxtail alla vaccinara shows up stuffed into dumplings; a yucca mooncake arrives shortly after. Seats are few, reservations are smart, and the small-plates section gives you an easy excuse to order more than you planned.

The cows, horses, and pigs outside are not decorative; they end up on the plate, as charcuterie, braised stews, and cheese dumplings made with the farm's own production. This agriturismo above Moena is the working-farm-restaurant in full Alpine earnest, with antique wood furnishings and a brazier anchoring the dining room. The Michelin Guide awarded it a Bib Gourmand, which tracks for a place this straightforwardly good at what it does.

The owner roams the dining room steering guests toward bottles from a display generous enough to get lost in, which sets the tone for this old-school Lombardian trattoria in a small hilltop town above the lake. The kitchen runs deep into Bergamo tradition, from house-made casoncelli to braised beef and roast rabbit with Rovetta polenta. A Michelin Bib Gourmand, and the kind of place where one visit rarely feels like enough.

A fogolar fireplace, the open hearth that defines old Friulian homes, crackles in the most intimate of the dining rooms here, spreading the smell of embers through the stonework. This is a regional trattoria in the old town of Cividale, where goose shows up as a staple rather than an occasion, and the cooking is confident enough not to explain itself. A courtyard opens on sunny days. The Michelin Guide awards it a Bib Gourmand.

The stone fireplace connecting the two dining rooms does double duty in winter, and the garden takes over when it warms up. This family-run trattoria in a quiet Friulian village keeps a seasonal menu rooted in the region, with grilled meats doing most of the heavy lifting. The Michelin Guide awards it a Bib Gourmand, which tracks for a place where the cooking is careful and the bill stays reasonable.

Truffles put this quiet hilltop town on Sicily's map almost as surely as the Baroque churches did, and this homey trattoria leans into that fact without apology. The kitchen runs on homemade bread, hand-rolled pastas, and local cheeses, with palazzolese sausage and black piglet rounding out a menu that reads like a love letter to the Monti Iblei. A Michelin Bib Gourmand, and the kind of place where the hospitality feels completely unrehearsed.

Five generations of women have kept this inn on the Altopiano del Salto plateau running, which gives the kitchen a confidence that no restaurant group can manufacture. It's a traditional South Tyrolean trattoria, the kind where home-produced ingredients and generous portions are the whole argument. A Michelin Bib Gourmand, and you can borrow a Haflinger horse afterward, which is not something many restaurants can offer.

A Tuscan trattoria that's been around forever, set in a village outside Lucca where the owners also run the organic farm supplying the kitchen with wine, olive oil, and vinegar. The cooking follows peasant tradition closely, grilled meats doing most of the heavy lifting. The Michelin Guide gives it a Bib Gourmand. Outdoor tables in the village square go fast, so book ahead if you want to sit outside pretending you live here.

The dining room hides behind the village bar in a small building on the square, and in winter the fireplace fills it with woodsmoke before the food even arrives. This is a traditional Friulian trattoria where the kitchen follows the seasons closely, alternating between fish and the kind of hearty regional cooking, duck ragout on tagliatelle, frico with polenta, that locals would riot to protect. A Michelin Bib Gourmand.

A family trattoria on the main street of a small medieval village, unswayed by trends and holding a Michelin Bib Gourmand. In warmer months, tables spill outside onto the street. The menu is rigorously Tuscan: crostini, ribollita, hand-rolled pici, braised beef, and when the season calls for it, wild boar stew. The kind of place where the cooking changes with the calendar and the village regulars eat like it's Tuesday, because it is.

The road up to this family-run trattoria winds through vines and orchards before hitting woodland at 900 meters, where the Dolomites spread out below like a postcard nobody bothered to send you. Three generations of the Geiser family have been feeding the valley on seasonal Alto Adige cooking, potato rösti, baked pumpkin, porcini cream, homemade tarts. The Michelin Guide awards it a Bib Gourmand, which tracks for a place this quietly sure of itself.

The squid soup with nduja and potato mousse is the dish the kitchen wants you to order, and it's a reasonable suggestion. This casual seafood bistro is the more affordable sibling of a smarter restaurant on Salerno's waterfront, same team and same obsession with freshness, just oily fish and local white prawns instead of oysters. The Michelin Guide awarded it a Bib Gourmand, which tracks: it's the kind of place that punches past its price point without making a fuss about it.

Cjarsons, the local ravioli whose filling shifts with whatever the season hands the kitchen, are a good reason to find yourself in this small family trattoria in the Carnia mountains. The team cooks from a deep Friulian tradition, with vegetables from their own organic garden doing quiet work in the background. The Michelin Guide gives it a Bib Gourmand, which tracks for a place this unfussy and this specific about where things come from.

A cluster of trulli beside a small vineyard sets the scene at this rustic trattoria tucked behind a relais outside Martina Franca. The kitchen leans into Apulian tradition, with wood-fired cooking and a menu that shifts with whatever the market offers that week. The same team behind a nearby gourmet spot runs the stoves here, though the register is looser and the food earns a Michelin Bib Gourmand.

A road separates Burro & Alici from the beach, and in summer the windows fold open so the dining room becomes the seafront. It looks like every other casual fish restaurant along the Marotta waterfront, which is the sort of camouflage that earns a Michelin Bib Gourmand. Classic Adriatic cooking carries the menu, with the occasional personal twist, and the gourmet pizzas topped with seafood are the kind of thing you didn't expect to order and then do.

A small, discreet door off a quiet street in central Ferrara opens into two simply furnished rooms where the cooking is all Emilian: hand-rolled pasta, tortelli in butter and Parmigiano, tagliatelle with prosciutto ragù. The tenerina, a fudgy local chocolate cake, arrives with a glass of mascarpone cream. The Michelin Guide gives it a Bib Gourmand, which tracks for a neighborhood trattoria where the food does the talking and nobody's performing for you.

A trattoria that has been anchored to a Renaissance square since what feels like forever, its interiors a pleasing jumble of Art Nouveau curves and mid-century odds and ends. The kitchen works the Po Valley's greatest hits: stuffed marubini in broth, culatello, boiled meats with house-made mostarda. Earns a Michelin Bib Gourmand for exactly this kind of unfussy regional cooking done with care. A small shop sells provisions for the ride home.

An old painted sign still marks the façade of this trattoria tucked among chestnut trees and tufa outcroppings outside the village. The cooking is rooted Piedmontese, the kind that hasn't chased trends, and the Michelin Guide gives it a Bib Gourmand for the trouble. A terrace opens in warm weather, an early twentieth-century cellar sits below, and in winter a fireplace does exactly what a fireplace should.

A seventeenth-century palazzo in a small Trentino hill town, with mountain views on clear days and a cellar stocked with nearly every producer in the Vallagarina valley. The daily tasting menu shifts with the season and the kitchen garden, though you can pick just a few courses if commitment feels like too much. A Michelin Bib Gourmand, and the kind of regional wine list that makes ordering by the glass a long and pleasant exercise.

The terrace here looks out over the green hills above Lake Maggiore, and on a clear day it's hard to concentrate on the menu. This old-school Piedmontese trattoria has been around forever, and the room feels it, in the best way: homey, unhurried, and run with obvious conviction. The kitchen roams the whole Italian peninsula, seafood included, but the local and regional dishes are where it settles. A Michelin Bib Gourmand.

Dinner in a palazzo's old stables, the vaulted ceiling doing most of the decorating. Clemente is a trattoria in the center of Sulmona that keeps its focus strictly on Abruzzo, meaning chitarra pasta made in-house, saffron from Aquila, and mains built entirely around meat. Portions run large, and half-portions are available if you'd like to order more things. The Michelin Guide awarded it a Bib Gourmand. Aperitifs happen in a bistro-style side room, which is a civilized arrangement.

A small bistrot a few steps from Lake Maggiore's promenade, where the chef builds a seasonal menu around local Piedmontese produce with the kind of care that makes you slow down. The name comes from the opening antipasto, a sequence of small shared bites designed for the table to pick at together. The Michelin Guide has given it a Bib Gourmand, and the front of house runs with enough warmth that you notice it.

Tables packed close together along via Accademia Albertina, this snug trattoria is about as unfussy as Turin gets. The kitchen leans hard into Piedmont, with meat-forward mains and a cheese board that earns its keep, though it occasionally wanders pleasantly off-region. The dessert menu names its lavender panna cotta "lavanda gastrica," which tells you the team has a sense of humor. A Michelin Bib Gourmand for good measure.