Edited by Camilla Mignone
There are cuisines that seek to surprise, and others that choose, first and foremost, to tell a story. To tell the story of an ingredient, a memory, a technique, or a concept of flavour. It is in that subtle space between memory and the present that the journey of 142 Restaurant, a project founded by Sandra Ciciriello.
Today, fine dining is no longer just a matter of complexity or extreme innovation, but of balance. It is the ability to turn technique into a means, not an end; to give space to the ingredients, the chef’s craft and the relationship with those seated at the table.
The cuisine of Federico Zappalà It stems precisely from this vision. A cuisine that is young yet already mature, shaped by diverse experiences and driven by the desire to find its own voice. Dishes in which the past is not simply revisited, but reinterpreted through a contemporary lens characterised by precision, sensitivity and balance.
Along the route tasting of 142 Each course follows a specific direction: not the pursuit of a dramatic effect, but the creation of a balance. Distinct flavours, carefully considered textures and ingredients showcased in their purest form become the elements of a narrative that accompanies the guest from the beginning to the end of the experience.
The meal begins with small tastings that immediately set the tone for the cuisine. A non-alcoholic bitter with melon and soda, bread served with goat’s butter andFlaminio oil, produced by a family that has been safeguarding the heritage of its own cultivars for eight generations. Details that may seem simple, but which immediately reveal a meticulous attention to the raw ingredients.
Next comes one of the most interesting dishes of the tasting: a tribute to Alice, Sandra Ciciriello’s long-standing project. Skate and foie gras engage in a dialogue through a subtle balance between land and sea, accompanied by sweet-and-sour unripe figs, wood sorrel and a pil pil sauce made from the skate’s own collagen. A dish that requires technical skill, but above all sensitivity.
And ‘balance’ is indeed the key word for the whole experience.
It can be found in rice, milk and maize – a dish that draws on the traditions of northern Italy whilst evolving with contemporary twists. Parmigiano rinds, chargrilled sweetcorn, smoked butter, polenta powder and hay are elements which, on paper, might easily seem redundant, but which instead come together in surprising harmony. Each component retains its own identity without ever overpowering the others.
It is a style of cooking that looks to the past without nostalgia and to the future without obsession. A style of cooking that explores, that reflects and, above all, is clear about the direction it is taking.
The ““Wellington or not Wellington” follows this philosophy. A deliberate culinary experiment that uses the structure of the classic dish to create something personal, using mushrooms, aubergines, leeks, a red wine reduction and celeriac purée. This is not provocation for its own sake, but an exercise in intelligent interpretation, where memory serves as a starting point rather than a constraint.
Even the pre-dessert manages to tell a story. A tribute to the 1980s through a lemon sorbet that draws on the fruit’s pulp, zest, bitter notes and toasted flavours, playing with the taste memory without ever coming across as didactic.
It is not just the dishes, however, that make an impression. It is the overall atmosphere of the experience. Today’s diners no longer seek that distance between the dining room and their table – that almost intimidating formality which for years characterised a certain type of gourmet dining. They are looking for authenticity, conversation and a natural atmosphere.
At 142, this aspect is evident. The service is precise but never stiff, professional without being cold. The open kitchen allows diners to observe the kitchen team at work – their concentration, their movements and their attention to detail. It is a silent narrative that accompanies the dinner without ever overshadowing it. And it is perhaps here that one truly understands the restaurant’s vision: to create a place where the dining room and the kitchen can tell each other’s stories, where the ingredients are the starting point and where diversity is valued over standardisation. Where a dish does not necessarily have to amaze to be memorable.
At the end of the meal, you’re left with a simple feeling, yet one that’s becoming increasingly hard to come by: the sense of having experienced something worth talking about. Because eating something unique is an experience in itself, just as feeling at ease in a place is. When the two come together, the desire to return is born.
And this is perhaps the truest measure of a contemporary restaurant.
English 
Italian