What to Eat in Turin

Turin sits between the Alps and the Po Plain, so its table reflects mountain dairies and fertile lowlands. Winters are cold and often foggy, summers warm but not extreme, shaping a cuisine that favors hearty sauces, slow braises, and preserved flavors. Daily life still values the midday meal and the late-afternoon merenda.

Centuries as a royal capital fostered a strong café and pastry culture alongside home cooking rooted in farm produce. Markets follow the seasons, from autumn mushrooms and brassicas to spring greens, while rice, cornmeal, and wheat anchor first courses. People eat deliberately, pairing food with local wines and finishing with coffee.

Bagna càuda is a warm dip made by gently dissolving salted anchovies with abundant garlic in extra-virgin olive oil, sometimes rounded with butter and a splash of milk to soften the garlic’s edge. The sauce is kept hot in a small terracotta fojòt and eaten communally with a spread of seasonal vegetables: raw cardoon and sweet peppers, wedges of cabbage and fennel, steamed potatoes, roasted beet, and crisp slices of topinambur. Salty, pungent, and silky, it coats each bite with deep umami and a lingering warmth that suits Turin’s damp, chilly months. Traditionally tied to the end of the harvest, it remains a winter evening centerpiece at home gatherings and local trattorie, turning simple produce into a shared main course.

Agnolotti del plin are tiny hand-pinched ravioli whose name comes from the plin, the pinch that seals them. A rich filling—usually a mix of roasted veal, pork, and rabbit with sautéed greens, broth-soaked bread, and grated cheese—rests inside an egg pasta sheet rolled very thin. They’re cut small, pinched to form ridges, and served either in their roasting juices, with melted butter and sage, or famously al tovagliolo, on a napkin with no sauce so the pasta and stuffing stand out. Tender and gently elastic, they release savory juices at the bite; the method reflects frugality from the Langhe and Roero, using leftover roasts for Sunday and festival meals. In Turin they appear as a first course at family lunches and celebratory menus across the colder months, though cooks prepare lighter versions year-round.

Vitello tonnato pairs thin slices of poached veal with a smooth sauce of tuna, capers, anchovies, lemon, and either hard‑boiled yolks or mayonnaise. The veal—often eye round—simmers gently with onion, carrot, celery, white wine, and a splash of vinegar, then cools completely so it can be sliced paper-thin. The blended sauce is glossy, tangy, and briny, coating the delicate meat without overpowering it, a balance that made the dish a staple of 19th‑century cookbooks and formal Piedmontese antipasti. In Turin it’s served cold as a starter at home gatherings and festive buffets, especially useful in summer when make‑ahead dishes shine, but it remains a year‑round classic in set menus.

Bollito misto alla piemontese is a ritual of simmered meats served with multiple condiments. Cooks gently poach assorted beef and veal cuts—cappello del prete, scaramella, punta di petto—along with hen, cotechino, tongue, and testina in a fragrant broth with vegetables and herbs, skimming carefully for clarity. The platter arrives steaming with tender slices and gelatinous morsels, accompanied by bagnet verd (parsley, garlic, anchovy, bread, vinegar), bagnet ross (tomato and chili), mostarda di frutta, cugnà of grape must and fruit, and sharp grated cren. Texturally varied and deeply comforting, it anchors long Sunday lunches and winter fairs, and in Turin it often appears from a rolling service trolley so diners can choose their preferred cuts and sauces.

Bicerin, named for the small glass it’s served in, layers dense hot chocolate, espresso, and lightly whipped or frothed cream without mixing. The chocolate is made in the classic Torinese style—thickened slightly and not overly sweet—then topped with coffee and a cool cap of dairy that keeps distinct bands. Sipped through the cream, it tastes warm, bittersweet, and velvety, reflecting a citywide chocolate tradition that also gave birth to gianduja, the cocoa–hazelnut blend shaped by local Tonda Gentile hazelnuts. People in Turin drink bicerin mid‑morning or for merenda, especially in the colder seasons, in historic cafés and at home when guests arrive.

Turin’s table blends Alpine sturdiness, careful technique, and café rituals, producing foods that reward patient cooking and seasonal timing. From communal sauces and hand‑pinched pasta to poised cold antipasti, textures and temperatures are as considered as flavor. If this snapshot whets your appetite, explore more food and travel guidance on Sunheron.com, where cuisine meets climate and season to help you plan your next bite.