Simone Cantafio confirms his status as a landscape artist of the heights, capable of portraying the mountains on canvas while placing the artisan in the foreground. Thus, at Stüa de Michil, the bite takes flight with the mind, in a choral piece that evokes “karumi”—the depth of essence.
Photos of the new dishes: credits Michele Galluccio
Nothing is born in the kitchen, everything begins outside. A back bent over the first fruits glistening with frost, the alpine scents of animals weaned at high altitude, the pact of trust with the cheesemaker who has chosen to give the chef the most intimate part of his craft. Nothing could be created in a smoky space enclosed by four walls, except the mature memory of what has been learned outside.
Yet, watching the complicit swarming of Simone Cantafio's brigade in the middle of their work, the environmental gap simply does not exist: the rhythm of their movements seems to embody all the farming knowledge that goes into delicately washing a freshly picked sprout or arranging a corolla as a garnish. The result will be a salad of 51 vegetable elements capable of keeping company until the last bite, proving that - yes - ‘La Terra è Viva’ (The Earth is Alive). Four terms to sum up a menu where ethics overshadows rhetoric, leaving the stage free for those behind (and not in front of) the photogenic symposium of haute cuisine.
The La Perla hotel, from Stüa de Michil to Bistrot
1,500 meters above sea level and a former ski lodge converted into a 5-star refuge: it is in the “Dolomite nest” of Perla di Corvara that the Stüa de Michil is located, a sign erected in memory of Michil Costa as a natural pedestal for the ecosystem at the summit (and now entrusted entirely to the management of Simone Cantafio, ed.). But it would make little sense to talk about luxury travel & business plans: here, the key lies in the warm and quiet aura of “Casa” - “ciasa,” to say it in Ladin - as if the very meaning of travel were the transfer from one dwelling to another. In the background, the diffused tones of an elegance that is anything but garish, except perhaps for the red of the drapes and sitting rooms set up to enliven the raw profiles of the wood.
It would be easy to start by talking about the more than 30,000 bottles in the underground cellar, Mahatma Wine (get ready to see the sommeliers slide down a trapdoor during service, using a small secret passage to reach it); or, again, linger over the whipped butter that is omnipresent from breakfast to dinner and the compilation of the 1 Michelin star stube, with a selection of hits that varies from evening to evening (in our case, it was difficult to choose between Aretha Franklin and Ella Fitzgerald).
However, what sets it apart from the usual luxury complexes with their facile formalities is a web of relationships that imbues the entire stay with humanity: the flavored mountain water and the “Bun dé” included in the smile at check-in; the carefully chosen homemade postcards that repaint a “vintage present” in the suites; the tips on the right trails to collect one by one the following morning, complete with trekking poles and backpacks provided upon waking by Matthias Costa (guardian, together with his brother Michil, of time-honored rituals of hospitality). Thus, suddenly, the mother nucleus incorporates the new arrivals, spreading everywhere the attentiveness of those who practice empathy as a daily exercise. And so, time appears diluted in its very extension: at the windows, the millennial peaks; inside, a ten-year timeline that touches on every evolutionary phase of the Costa microcosm.
After all, it is time itself that gives its name (and substance) to the menu created by Antonio Virili, bar manager at the Bistrot: “This year, we wanted to put together a journey that reviews the life cycle of mixology, from the dawn of the bar to the trends of tomorrow.” So, there is an immediate revival effect with the timeless Lucien Gaudin and Old Cuban, while current trends veer towards non-alcoholic experimentation and the “Timeless” section scores points with Casa Costa Martini: “The reissue of a best seller, as we use our own gin, the result of meticulous botanical research conducted together with Flavio Angiolillo's Tripstillery.”
The wax seal stands out, highlighting the attention to detail that also extends to the mini-drinks illustrated with the silhouettes of family members, from Negroni Aged to Old Fashioned. Speaking of visual references, each glass is pictured next to the corresponding cocktail on the menu, making it easy to see at a glance (novices, don't be afraid of getting lost in the maze of signature beverages). “Under the heading ‘Future’,” Antonio explains, “we have gathered four recipes with a vegetable focus.” Among these is shiso, which follows chef Cantafio's Eastern influences - “served Vesper Martini style in a small Japanese bowl with ice and a shiso leaf.” Then there is pepper and sage. “And capers are not missing, like a whisky sour.” The direction integrates the sip perfectly, paving the way for a “liquid” tasting that, once the glasses are empty, leads us straight to Stüa.
Simone Cantafio's new menu: The Earth is alive
In the soft candlelight that gilds the stube, Simone Cantafio confirms himself as a true landscape artist of the heights, capable of painting the mountains on a plate, putting the artisan in the foreground. And it is precisely this human connection that is the cornerstone of a journey where, in the space of a change of cutlery, the team skillfully navigates the “camouflaged” biodiversity of the meadows and the hidden inhabitants of the alpine lakes, down to the baritone depths of the undergrowth.
Breaking the ice of Corvara's reliefs is a fried bao, fluffy Asian-style bread stuffed with a mangalica mortadella mousse. “It's a piglet raised by our friend Gunther,” says Simone with Matteo Terranova and Alessio Ferraro, young stars of the kitchen brigade. “He's not a salesman or a supplier, but a fountain of botanical knowledge from Val di Funes who always gives us a spark of wisdom along with the harvest.” Because, after all, “La Terra è Viva” means just that: tightening the invisible knot that goes from the soil to the basket, from the arms in the field to the bite in the embryo. It is no coincidence that the fresh cherry tomatoes from the garden come from Calabria (specifically from “Come un tempo,” the farm owned by chef Agostino Nanci's cousin), translated into a sunny late-summer quenelle, which in turn precedes the Italian-style pinzimonio with lightly blanched vegetables and a tactical reinforcement of 'nduja; a spicy comma is just enough to commit to memory the delight of the Cubo di pandolce fritto, crusco pepper, and local beef tartare.
The quiet entrance of the bread—brought in by Nicoleta, a maître d' with a rare talent for storytelling in the dining room—sets the stage for an idea that will gradually become the recurring theme of the subsequent courses. We could not find a better term than Karumi - “lightness,” coined by the great Japanese poet Matsuo Bashō- to condense in six letters the flow of the tasting, introduced by a batch of bread that embraces the continents. Next to the Buchteln (a typical South Tyrolean specialty, this time in a savory version made with spelt flour and potatoes) is the Lavash, a Middle Eastern street food made from corn flour, which at Stüa echoes the contours of the Dolomite slopes. The imprinting (greatly accelerated by the butter from Val di Vizze!) is an aerial view of the value of the staple food; a loud crunch and a soft crumb filling the cheeks simultaneously in every single “ciasa” (house) on the globe. Suddenly, the simplicity of bread lifts the senses, just as Basho's “lightness” invites us to grasp the richness of essence.
The aroma fills your nostrils a few seconds before you focus on the “spore-filled” whirlwind of Una passeggiata nel bosco (A Walk in the Woods): the purity of the broth, the call of the forest. Before us, a “eat and drink” dense with aromas that rise on a scale of progressive intensity, emphasizing the decisive character of the wild mushrooms of Val Badia. The bite comes from a curious “Italian-style tofu.”
“Instead of soybeans, we use a curd made from mountain chickpea milk, which we treat like ricotta cheese and then fry with rice flour,” explains Simone. But then Günther reappears with his melt-in-the-mouth speck, served on a side of puff pastry and mushroom cream. A touch of Japanese elegance completes the local fabric outfit.
With the atmosphere heating up, it's time for L'uomo e la terra (Man and Earth), the “51-ingredient salad” mentioned a few lines above. Here, the herbaceous chorus unfolds in a tribute to Michel Bras, “a mentor who left an indelible mark on my training,” recalls the chef. In the mouth, each component passes the baton to the next with the help of a common dressing: “To accentuate the freshness, I started from memories of my mother's fennel salad,” confesses the chef. The addition of lemon and a hint of oyster hits the mark, “almost imperceptible, to lengthen the overall perception without distracting from the changing nuances of the bouquet.”
All the same, the Cajinci di segale, spoon-shaped jewel boxes with a small-big secret hidden in the dough, seem to be chiseled: "We met the Franz family, the last family of fishermen left to perpetuate their centuries-old art on Lake Garda: they continue to cast their nets after generations and generations, tolerating sacrifice and hard work. With their natural and smoked fish, we fill Günther's rye flour dough, shaping a local ravioli (the Cajinci, in fact) that combines centuries of experience in a few centimeters of fresh pasta." The method gently reshapes home cooking thanks to the potato emulsion, cucumber spheres, and herring caviar on the way out: an emotional ballet between savory, juicy, and smoky.
The name of the mullet speaks for itself: “28 hours and 50 seconds”. With a timer in hand, it takes over a day of cooking (and not a minute less) to faithfully replicate the Calabrian tomato sauce made by the chef's grandmother, the real highlight of the dish rather than the fish itself. Any “mechanical” shortcuts? Not a chance: “We proceed with a strainer, arming ourselves with patience, until we obtain a very fine pulp. The liquid decants and what remains is the crème de la crème of ripe tomatoes.” The vermilion sauce contrasts with animal protein that has been lightly seared. Karumi is back, and it is a tribute to the absolute essence of the ingredient, an unexpected green deal.
The “Slice of Happiness” has the buttery texture of Vipiteno suckling pig, plus a matching olfactory treat: “The aromas perceived during visits to the farms gave rise to the idea of adding a slightly smoked milk skin to the dish.” The result is the same aroma as mushroom broth, transferred to animal protein to stimulate the nose first and foremost. A moment of pleasure with French mustard and rapeseed sauce, slightly toasted, and naan bread for a second round of leavened products from around the world. From Mahatma Wine's stock of wonders comes a Barolo DOCG ‘Villero’ 2017 from Oddero, proposed by head sommelier Silvio Galvan to crown a pairing that hits the mark.
The dessert goes beyond mere applied theory to leave a fresh impression of mountain pastures. It is unforgettable, Floreale, with its trio of melilot, chamomile, and meadowsweet, evoking the chef's Sunday walks with his family. Popcorn and salted caramel ice cream cover a wild black cherry jam that brings back forgotten memories.
In the same vein, the farewell sweets add a touch of nostalgia to the wicker basket resting on the tablecloth. They range from strawberry and balsamic vinegar gummy bears to almond paste and apricot jam Ricciarelli, ending with a “crackling” Simil-Mikado, inspired by Frizzy Pazzy candies.
The Linus cover that everyone would love to slip under after dinner to drift off into a sweet sleep: if “Karumi” has a taste, this is it.
ADDRESS
La Stüa de Michil – Simone Cantafio
Str. Col Alt, 105, 39033 Corvara in Badia BZ
Phone: 0471 831000
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