Ristorante La Fattoria, Tuscany

Tuscany has for some time been a holiday retreat for the British middleclass. This is not necessarily a bad thing, just an observation. Though I did find it amusing to visit the local Co-Op supermarket in the quiet and nondescript town of Tavarnelle, fifty minutes south of Florence, to find it packed with pale-skinned Brits mulling over which fresh pesto dip to buy. You can tell the Brits easily in a foreign supermarket; not only are they pale, but they apologise when they squeeze past you on the crowded isles, whereas the Italians simply barge you out of the way as if you were invisible and then look offended to find that you are in fact a solid object.

The villa we rented was off the beaten track, quite literally, near a village called Bargino. I hired a standard Fiat Pathetico which took an instant dislike to the rocky, dusty and ridged track that we had to descend in order to reach the villa’s driveway. The villa itself was a converted medieval bakery, a charming place to stay, very private and surrounded by fields. Aside from the vicious mosquitoes and the ceiling fan that wobbled precariously as it span directly above the bed – conjuring up the unpleasant potential scenario of waking in the night to find my head separated from my body – it was a most pleasant retreat.

But I hadn’t come to Tuscany to lie around besides a pool all day. I had come to eat, to explore the landscape of the region’s gastronomy and to hopefully find one of those hidden gems of a local restaurant that we hold so dearly to our hearts at The Arbuturian. And boy did I strike gold…

We found Ristorante La Fattoria by accident. On our way back from the supermarket, while I was concentrating on not veering off the twisting road and plunging into the surrounding valley in a fireball of smoke and twisted metal (at least not until I’d tried the pesto dip we’d bought), my partner spotted a restaurant that was set back from the road. Later that night we ventured out to Bargino hoping to grab a meal at a local fish restaurant that had been recommended to us, but on arrival we found it closed and the little village asleep. So Plan B was to visit the mysterious roadside restaurant near Tavarnelle to see if it would entice us to dine there.

The restaurant is easy to miss, especially at night, but there is a large car park to the rear which makes life easier in a country where the word parking is defined as ‘to dump one’s motor vehicle in any space by any means necessary so-help-me-God-hail-Maria’. We heard sounds emanating from the back of the restaurant and homing in on this we found ourselves standing in a charming stone-clad courtyard, with tables and candles and the murmuring buzz of very contented diners; a good start. Walking through the backdoor of the restaurant into the former farmhouse, we were confronted with a large charcoal grill and a burley chef attending to some gigantic sizzling T-bone steaks, the charcoaled aroma of Tuscan beef wafting through the warm evening breeze. Oh yes, I thought, oh yes, “Un tavolo per due, per favour!” I blurted desperately to the waitress, who immediately replied in English and led us to a comfortable table outside (I wasn’t sure if this reply in English was a sign that my Italian was bad or that I was still too pale to pass myself off as a genuine Tuscan – I imagine it was a combination of both).

This is a ‘ristorante’, which means you pay a slightly higher price than a standard trattoria but the food is in theory of a better quality. This was a case in point. The menu featured many Tuscan specialities, including a wild boar pappardelle which I ordered for my starter; delicious homemade pasta covered in a rich and unctuous wild boar sauce (look for ‘pappardelle al ragu di cinghiale’ on the menu). The starter arrived in its own serving dish from which I could help myself as I went along. It was such a big portion that I began to wonder if I had ordered a main course by mistake; but this is Italy – pasta is a starter, main courses are meat, poultry or fish, and God help you if you’re a vegetarian. It was one of the most glorious pasta dishes I have ever eaten, similar in appearance and texture to a Bolognese, and it went down very well with the bottle of Chianti Classico that we’d ordered. Mrs Jones dined on a starter of ravioli of spinach and ricotta, a quite superb execution of this classic concoction, and as this was served in its own dish too we decided to share the two starters between us.

Main courses followed suit on size, rustic presentation and lip-smacking flavour. I couldn’t resist that amazing coal-fired grill so I ordered a charcoal seared sirloin steak with a black truffle topping. I expected to have perhaps a few shavings of truffles on top, but not so – the slab of meat was covered in a thick paste of finely chopped truffles, shallots, garlic and parsley, and was absolutely outstanding. The woody, earthy flavours of the truffle combined wonderfully with the juicy, charred beef. As for the steak itself, they didn’t ask me how I wanted it done; it simply arrived cooked to a medium-rare perfection, just the way it should be served. Being Italy, I had no vegetables, just a steak on a plate, but this wasn’t an issue because I stole some potatoes from Mrs Jones’ gigantic plate of roast suckling pig with roast potatoes, another sterling dish. The crackling was crunchy and delightful, the pork soft and juicy, the potatoes crisp on the outside and fluffy within.

After the main course I literally had no room for dessert, which I felt was a terrible sin as I’m sure they would’ve been superb. The atmosphere was buzzing and most of the diners were locals, families and couples, apart from a large table of Brits who looked like they had been there before. In fact I’m sure most people had been before; it’s one of those places you go back to again and again. If I lived nearby, I would be the size of a house by now.

Naturally, I could hardly visit another country without checking out one of the renowned Michelin-star haunts. This I did, and that’s another article, but I have to say it just didn’t compare to La Fattoria, which has no stars but makes up for it with everything else. The meal that night was the best meal in two weeks of touring the region. In retrospect, I think it’s one of the best meals I’ve ever had; one of those evenings that just seems to tick all the boxes, which is why it’s an awful shame that I didn’t manage three courses. Questions remain unanswered, and by God I shall return to find out if that homemade tiramisu was as good as it looked.

If you are visiting Florence or Sienna, it is worth making the journey out to this place. It may seem a little out of the way, and with all the great restaurants in the region you may wonder if it’s worth it, but on that occasion it most definitely was.

Ristorante La Fattoria, Via Del Cerro, Tavarnelle Val di Pesa, 50028 Localita lda Romita. Tuscany, Italy. Tel: +39 (00)55 807 0000. Website: http://www.ristorantelafattoria-chianti.com