“We need to write a book on the concept of trattoria,” says Cesare Battisti, owner of Ratanà in Milan. Let’s start from here. The Treccani dictionary defines it as: “a public establishment, with one or more rooms, where complete meals can be consumed; it generally has a more modest tone than a restaurant, but often the name trattoria is also used by characteristic high-level restaurants.” While this encyclopedic definition is accurate, something is missing. It is a place where one eats, true, but the meanings it embodies go far beyond the food itself. Associated with the worship of products, the territory, and well-being.
The trattoria has always been a home away from home, but also a reflection of its time, by definition ever-changing. And today it is no longer just a place where you eat well and pay a fair price. It is becoming much more: a crossroads of relationships, a form of thought. A place where concepts are cooked along with pasta dishes.
And this is where the trattoria becomes hyper – when it stops representing something and begins to transform something. And it focuses on Hypertrattoria: a festival, but more of a movement, to raise awareness, network, tell what has never been told. Born from the collaboration between Stefano Costi and Simone Brengola (partners in event production and owners of Vinificio and Pastificio San Lorenzo in Rome) and Laura Lazzaroni (food journalist). The goal: to take stock. To draw some sort of perimeter, because we are talking about the most loved format in our country, one that actually identifies Italianity (Italian identity) even abroad. Yet, Italians have never been good at telling it, until now.
We had a taste of it on May 4th at Cascina Lago Scuro, a gorgeous farmhouse and agriturismo in Stagno Lombardo near Cremona and the Po river. A large green lawn in the magic of the farm with the grill, pizzas, winemakers sipping, and a handful of contemporary trattorias: the hosts of Cascina Lago Scuro, Erba Brusca, and the FeG duo preparing the food. A day devoted to feeling good in conviviality, exactly. Then came Rome, where the Hypertrattoria took shape from May 18th to 25th: a week of dinners, lunches, famous dishes, encounters, music, and natural wine culminating in a weekend at Officine Farneto with three days of temporary and real community. A sort of gathering of contemporary trattorias from all over Italy that put on the table what running a trattoria means today. It wasn’t a fair, it wasn’t an academic symposium, and there were no guided tastings. It was a festival, or better, an experience. Or perhaps, even better, an experiment. A temporary and real community, with the provocative cry of “We haven’t invented a damn thing in the end” launched by Alessandro Roscioli of the eponymous, historic Salumeria Roscioli in the capital.
“Identity is definitely the key word that connects and disconnects all the realities we include in the big cauldron of contemporary trattorias.”
“There is no one like the other. They all maintain that cult of the territory, of local products, of some tradition translated with a personal language derived from worldly experiences. ‘It’s my home, and as such it has my contamination, my vision,’ says Francesca Barreca of Mazzo in an interesting talk among giants – titled ‘The trattoria does not exist (or rather changes quickly)’ – that had Diego Rossi of Trippa, Cesare Battisti of Ratanà, Marco Baccanelli (the other side of Mazzo), Alessandro Roscioli, and journalist Marco Bolasco sitting. It is precisely ‘my home’ that encapsulates the mood of the trattoria: extremely personal, with that familiar touch that puts you at ease.”
At this point, we need to delve into some gastro-philosophical semantics. No, they are not the same thing. The osteria and the trattoria share the spirit of popular hospitality, but they diverge like two sisters of different zodiac signs. Today, in the best cases, one merges into the other, and that subtle line that used to make the difference is no longer there. The osteria was the epic of immediacy, made of wine, chatter, and something to eat. An anarchic, disordered place, with a central figure holding the reins: the host. The trattoria, on the other hand, has always been less impromptu, more affectionate, the place to go to eat and feel good. Both place the human element at the center, with characters of depth and personality respectively in the dining room and in the kitchen. Both work on the social role of the table, they are places where conviviality meets awareness, and simplicity is never trivial. They are open tables, not just because informality is a fundamental aspect, but because this informality is a form of respect and care.
In an era where the restaurant industry often follows models, numbers, and standardized narratives, the hyper version of the trattoria seems to us the ideal solution to take the best of both worlds by adding consciousness to make hospitality a cultural project. To create something that is not just a comfort zone, but a place where you feel good because someone has thought about how to make us feel good.
Therefore, Hypertrattoria is the trattoria that becomes self-aware.
It is a kind of trattoria after a journey through time. It takes the memory of the trattoria and projects it into the present with an eye towards tomorrow. It is a relational device. The dialogue on the second day, in fact, lands right here. Moderated by Paolo Ferrarini, it explores how to define the contemporary identity of the Italian trattoria through design: discussing materials, seating, atmosphere, and experiential codes. Eleonora Carbone of Naessi Studio – a multidisciplinary creative laboratory that combines strategic storytelling, art direction, and design – and Sarah Cicolini of Santo Palato have explained how architecture and design narrate tradition and design its future. The idea is to keep the messages of the objects that define the trattoria unchanged, but to rethink and translate them into a modern key. All this can be seen concretely in the project they have created together at the new Santo Palato.
We won’t go into detail about how delicious the dishes were cooked over those three days by the fifteen trattorias from all over Italy that brought life to Officine Farneto. Nor about the nice vibe. It’s a shame if you missed it, make sure not to miss the next one. During those three days, we had fun asking around about the trattoria feeling, both to the protagonists and participants, to understand what unites the trattorias we like. The real ones, the lively ones, the contemporary ones.
The trattoria is primarily about conviviality.
Simplicity, comfort, seasonality, culture, family, dialogue, and sharing. These are the words on everyone’s lips. It’s clear that it’s not just about food: it’s the context that makes it necessary. The trattoria is hospitality, roots, a simple gesture. It’s grandma’s dish, but cooked with a certain awareness. It’s a place where everyday cuisine is celebrated. There isn’t a single definition, but a chorus of voices, experiences, and details. Because the trattoria is a place, but also a way of being in the world.
The trattoria is “the best expression of conviviality,” says winemaker Maria Ernesta Berucci. For the women of Bera winery, it’s tradition, of course, but also openness, dialogue, and contamination, along with seasonality and local products. The trattoria is also a comfortable, simple, and reassuring place, as stated by Salumeria Malinconico. It’s about fire, essentiality, and the right words spoken by those who know, like at Podere Arduino: very simple products, a good host, and the warmth of something real. The Trecca dictionary describes it as a place to enjoy the beauty and goodness of the city, of Italy, in the company of friends and family. But it’s also a place where much more than meals is shared: experiences, pieces of life. It’s a home without actually being one, it’s the full sense of conviviality. Mimì alla Ferrovia adds another keyword: culture. The trattoria as history and passion, as memories cooked up every day. It’s the dish that recreates childhood, nostalgia that becomes “lots of stuff.” Food that connects, unites, stitches together scattered pieces.
For Alessandro Lazazzera from Mazzo’s counter (now a cook at the brand new Tantecarecose in Pigneto), it’s pure comfort: a place where you can feel close to home even when you are far away. Meanwhile, Ratanà brings in elements of family, hospitality, suppliers, and authenticity: it’s culture, abundant culture, also made of relationships. Sarah Cicolini of Santo Palato sees it as an archetype that updates itself. “Today’s trattoria is inspired by that of yesterday: real food, real people.” It’s a collective imagination that comes together in the dish. It’s a popular fresco, modern and ancient at the same time. For Buccia, it’s active, lived sharing: dishes to taste all together, casual conversations, inclusion between those in the dining room and those in the kitchen. It’s a place where food and life are discussed, where nothing is rigid, everything is about relationships.
Franceschetta brings joy to the table: where emotions are exchanged, and dishes are vehicles of values. Sharing isn’t just among the diners but also between those who cook and those who eat. It’s a deep, continuous dialogue. Eleonora from Studio Naessi adds a modern nuance: the trattoria as a place where everyone feels good, no matter what they are seeking. It’s familiar, yet not home. It’s refuge but also a starting point. On the other hand, Pastificio San Lorenzo evokes emotions of the past, with a spartan and sincere cuisine. Not accessible to all, but for everyone: an equality achieved through taste.
Francesco from Collebrunacchi delves into the psyche: it’s the place of the heart, ancestral food, and the comfort of a mother’s embrace. It’s the origin, the first act of love sought anew, every time, at the trattoria. The memory of a caress in the taste of a sauce. And then there are the very young boys from Annuccia, with their original recipe for Caprese cake and its dual perspective: on one side, conviviality, love, and passion for cooking. On the other, the memory of grandma’s dishes, the warmth of home, the familiar flavors that become a daily “miracle.” And finally, for Laura Lazzaroni – the curator of the event – what is the trattoria?
“It is happiness.” An essential and absolute definition.
And so long live trattorias, especially the contemporary ones. Those that are not afraid to change while remaining true to themselves. Those that make us sit at the table to share the world. Those good forms of happiness, with a full belly.
