Ciro Sieno is a thoughtful chef who uses modern techniques to bring out the essence of his heritage. His cuisine serves as a bridge between Vesuvius and the Apennines—a perfect harmony that evokes regional character, the scents of home, and freedom.
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That’s the beauty of rock from Emilia: it never lets you travel alone. It makes you want to stick your arm out the window and feel the warm wind on your face. I was driving toward Reggio, the city of the Tricolor, and my thoughts moved in time with an old, distorted guitar strumming through the radio speakers. This is a land of the in-between and of strong blood, of tough-as-nails people. Christopher Lee knows a thing or two about this—he boasts noble bloodlines, his mother being from Reggio, Countess Carandini di Sarzano, who brought an imperial lineage to these countryside lands as part of her dowry. It’s the land where, long ago, people fled up into the arid mountains from the beautiful cities that had fallen to the enemy. The land where partisans fired their guns in the woods to save their skins, invoking freedom and writing history with the fire of the Resistance on every centimeter of the hard-packed earth. But it’s also the land that gave birth to people with poetry in their blood, like Ariosto, who dreamed here of knights and hippogriffs. In short, here life is lived raw, drunk in great gulps, discussed with fervor, and sung at the top of one’s lungs when the night grows too silent. I was looking for the Enigma Restaurant, behind Parco del Popolo—yes, but which “people”? A melting pot of peoples by now.
Inside the Hotel Astoria, a quiet corner amid the ethnic and urban hustle and bustle. At the helm is Ciro Sieno, a true Neapolitan with lively eyes and the brisk stride of someone who grew up breathing the air of the Gulf, yet who has taken on the cuisine of this plain, turned it on its head, and consciously reinterpreted it. At his side, his wife Giulia Mazza runs the dining room with class. Hers is a true act of resistance, a peaceful guerrilla war of flavor: she takes the deep-rooted memory of the South—that of the alleyways and the sea—and marries it with the tenacity and solidity of the Reggio Emilia region. A true tricolor of diverse regionalities rooted in the dishes, where green, white, and red are the bread and butter of an Italy that comes together at the table.
The Restaurant and the Dishes
I find myself “in the thick of it,” greeted by a barrage of appetizers that are little flavor bombs. A datterino tomato is placed before you—but it’s actually an optical illusion—a concentrated burst of pizzaiola-style meat that explodes in your mouth with all the intensity of a Neapolitan lunch, followed by a Milan-Palermo arancino, perfect in its golden crispness. Immediately after, the kitchen pays homage to Reggio with a tartlet that reinterprets the geometric shapes of the local erbazzone, then closes out this first round with a cone of Parmigiano Reggiano cream concealing a pulsating heart of traditional balsamic vinegar. A rock-and-roll twist that sets the stage for everything to come. The bread selection deserves a chapter of its own: a warm, sumptuous casatiello arrives at the table, accompanied by crumbly taralli sugna e pepe, capable of making you smell the alleys of Mergellina right in the middle of the Po Valley. The first course, “Evolution of a Classic,” is a reinterpretation.
These raw red shrimp arrive before you—meaty, sweet, and bold, like an opening guitar riff. They rest on a bed of roasted lettuce, which brings a bitter, smoky note to the dish. Topped with the creamy softness of sheep’s milk ricotta—an ancient nod to the local mountain shepherding tradition—along with a Tabasco-infused Bloody Mary gel and candied lemon. What dish did the good Ciro take on? Take a guess. Next up is “Octopus alla Luciana, my way”, where the seafaring tradition is literally turned on its head with contemporary techniques: the octopus is cooked and roasted to perfection—crispy on the outside and tender on the inside—and drizzled with a sharp raspberry vinegar, embellished with a caper leaf, savory black olive powder, and a thick tomato emulsion that captures the essence of the South. All the elements of tradition are present.
Next comes the Toasted Sardinian Fregola, which at first glance resembles pasta and beans but is actually a deeply Mediterranean masterpiece. The irregular grains of fregola rest on a velvety, thick cream of cannellini beans and are bathed in a rich sauce of mixed beans that evokes winter, the countryside, and hearty dishes enjoyed in farmers’ kitchens. On top of this earthy, comforting bed, Ciro places a wild medley of raw Mediterranean shellfish and mollusks, which release all their sweet, briny flavor, crowning the dish with a lemon-scented sea breeze—an ethereal foam that seems to vaporize the scent of a wave crashing against the rocks right on the tongue.
My personal standing ovation goes to “My Version of the Assassin.” Here, the spaghetti is prepared in several steps: first seared in a pan, then cooked risotto-style in datterino tomatoes, and finally assembled and finished with a final gratin under the salamander, until it develops that almost-burnt crust that’s a trademark of the dish. Then the energetic kick comes from the ’nduja, from the garlic that hits your nose the moment the dish is served, and from the parsley and basil. On top of this fiery heat that stings the tongue, the chef places the regal, refreshing freshness of raw red shrimp from Mazara del Vallo. It’s a patriotic, intense dish that screams, thrashes, and scratches—a veritable rock tarantella in your mouth that takes no prisoners.
Il Cintale is the next dish, and it has a wonderful history that blends pig breeds and geographies: the name comes from the combination of the Cinta Senese pig and the wild boar—a fusion of the wild and the noble that gives rise to meat with character, pride, and depth. Ciro takes this tenderloin and prepares it using the contemporary technique of low-temperature cooking, or CBT, to keep the meat incredibly tender and juicy, preserving every last bit of its natural juices, before giving it the necessary crispness with a quick, intense sear in the pan for just a few moments—creating a bold crust that evokes the flavor of a traditional roast. Accompanying this regal cut are crisp green beans and roasted artichokes straight from the garden. A thick, dark Lambrusco reduction—full-bodied and quintessentially Emilian—meets a mandarin vinegar emulsion. It is the sunny acidity of the South that cuts through the richness of the meat in a magnificent duel, resolved with the grace of a paladin from Ariosto’s epic.
“Sunday at Grandma's: the squid warms by the fireplace.” A thin slice of white, tender squid seared with a blowtorch. The scent of char and smoke takes you straight back to the hearths of the Resistance, to those stories of people who, in the cold of the Emilian mountains, gritted their teeth and dreamed of freedom in front of a burning log. Inside the squid lies the comfort of a potato that conceals a heart of sautéed friarielli—bitter and spicy like life in the alleys of Naples—all bathed in an infusion of smoked provola that binds the ingredients together in a grandmother’s embrace, warm and full of nostalgia. Dedicated to all the grandmothers of Italy.
Before the final dessert, a breather. A moment of freshness with Lemon Assoluto served as a pre-dessert. It has the texture and spirit of a modern sgroppino—tart, icy, and sharp—cleansing the palate of smoky and fatty flavors, leaving your mind clear for the evening’s final course. The curtain falls with “Ombra di bosco”, a dessert that is a visual and sensory journey into the deepest undergrowth. Ciro creates a play of textures on the plate centered around hazelnuts and truffles: there’s a supple chocolate that moves sinuously, a hazelnut “soil” that mimics the forest floor, an enveloping Bavarian cream, and, finally, black truffle gelato that brings the earthy and noble notes of the Reggio Emilia region into the sweetness of the finale. As I enjoyed the clear sunlight fading beyond the Astoria’s large windows, I realized that the mystery had been solved.
Ciro Sieno is a thoughtful chef who uses modern techniques to bring out the essence of his heritage. His cuisine is a bridge spanning Vesuvius and the Apennines, a perfect melody that evokes regional character, the scents of home, and freedom. I leave the restaurant with the flavors of mandarin, truffle, and smoke still lingering on my palate; I start the engine, merge back onto the Via Emilia, and realize that this experience has given me yet another beautiful “neogastromelodic” song to sing.
Enigma
Viale Leopoldo Nobili, 2/c, 42121 Reggio nell'Emilia (RE)
Phone numbers:
Landline: +39 0522 206614
Cell: +39 339 1794095
Email address: info@enigmarestaurant.it
