When Cesare Pavese wrote, ‘We do not remember days, we remember moments,’ I’d like to imagine he had in mind one mild spring afternoon, travelling through Le Langhe, wind in his hair, sunlight sloping off the hills, his heart content with wine, food, and song. Pavese, one of Italy’s most beloved writers of the early 20th century, returned often to his birthplace in southeast Piedmont, in northern Italy. Pulled by the area’s earthy richness and peasant traditions, its tiny medieval towns and watercolour landscapes. As were we, but in addition, my husband and I, tummies rumbling, were prepared to mostly eat, and drink our way through the region. Piedmont, to put it mildly, is a culinary enthusiasts’ delight, producing some of the country’s finest meat, chocolate and wine.

Our road to gentle debauchery began in Monforte d’Alba, an ancient Roman town clinging to sun-drenched slopes, its stone walls and pretty doorways overhung with tangled roses. After a walk up its sharply sloping streets to the Piazza dell’ Antica Chiesa, to preemptively assuage any postprandial guilt, we headed to La Salita, hidden in an alleyway garden. The Italian menu is structured around four courses — antipasti (starters), primipiatti (pastas), secondi piatti (meats, fish) and dolci (desserts) — although only the most courageous would opt for all. We settled on a flaky vegetable strudel, topped with salty Raschera fondue — light but unexciting — and, for the mains, handmade ravioli del plin (‘pinched’ in Piedmontese dialect) drenched in a meaty roast sauce and delicately pink scottata di fassone, lissom slices of local beef. All this with glasses of the area’s noble Barolo and sweeter Dolcetto. We ended the evening outside, with nocciola (hazelnut) ice cream at a cheerful gelateria, also an incongruous hangout of the town’s brooding leather-jacket-clad youth.

The next day, sunny and sparkling bright, we drove to Alba, one of the larger towns of the region, home to Ferrero, makers of Nutella. (Expect to find this bottled treat of epic sugar quantities in just about every shop, no matter what else they sell.) Alba was once known as the city of 100 towers, self-explanatory when you’re strolling its cobbled streets with a crick in the neck. The loveliest is the rising ceiling of Cattedrale di San Lorenzo, painted in deepest twilight blue and speckled with golden stars. Behind the altar, don’t miss the splendid wood-carved chorus stalls. Built in 1512, these 35 seats with decorative wood inlay scenes — city life, religious motifs — are similar to contemporary paintings.

After, we stumbled across Vigin Mudest, and lingered over a plate of peperoni in bagna cauda (roasted peppers in an olive oiland- anchovies sauce). Other local favourite antipasti include vitello tonnato, sliced veal with a tuna sauce, and battuta di fassone, a small helping of raw beef with lemon and parmesan. Since truffle season runs September to January, this time we paired tajarin (egg-based pasta) with seasonal asparagus. Take heart though, and head to Tartufalba for gallons of this prized fungi in all its glorious forms.

If you’re keen to visit vineyards, keep in mind that the majority are typically family owned medium or small-scale producers, and it’s polite to make reservations a day or two ahead. Paola Abrigo at Abrigo Giovanni, though, was gracious and welcoming despite our two-hour notice, walking us to vine rows and hazelnut trees, and the cool, dark cellar. Her star wine (unsurprisingly multi awardwinning) is the strong, full-bodied Nebbiolod’Alba, which she allows you to taste at the visitor’s table. “This is poetry,” she said. Pavese would agree. Over at the Roero hills, we visited Cantina ‘L Cavis, where Monica Tibaldi, a recent graduate in winemaking from the University of Turin, talked us through their specialties. We were tempted to load up a truck or two with the beautifully fresh Arneis.

Our trip ended at Saluzzo, impulsively picked from a guidebook, and we couldn't have chosen better. This tiny gem of a place (total population 17,000) was marquisate of the Del Vasto family from 1142 to 1548, before succumbing to the House of Savoy. Enter Saluzzo’s medieval centre though, and you may still don surcoats and kirtles. The cobbled streets weave around the hillside, hemmed in by an ancient wall, leading you to a magical forested corner, a wishing well, a Gothic tower, and topped, eventually, by the Renaissance Casa Cavassa, once residence of the Del Vasto family, Fascist-era prison, and now innocuous Museo Civico. For a truly Piedmontese dining experience, stroll a little out of town to Taverna San Martino to feast on such delights as grilled mule (deliciously soft, similar to beef), gallina (hen salami) drizzled with balsamic vinegar, rocket and raisins, trout ragu, veal bocconcini (cutlets) slow-cooked in Barbera wine, and bunet, a dense, spongy chocolate slab slicked with bitter amaretto. “The only joy in the world is to begin,” wrote Pavese. In Piedmont, this would be tag-ended by ‘a meal’.

Travel log

Get there: Lufthansa, Air France, KLM and Air India, among others, offer one-stop flights to Turin from Delhi and Mumbai. Daily trains ply to Alba and Saluzzo from Turin’s Porta Nuova station. Accessing the vineyards is easier by car, or join up for a private vineyard tour ( >travellanghe.com ).

Stay: Among numerous options for Alba, settle into cosy comfort at Palazzo Finati ( >palazzofinati.it ), while in Saluzzo, choose the charming San Bernardo B&B ( >bebsanbernardo.it ). I prefer Cascina Minot ( >cascinaminot.it ), one of many agriturismo options tucked away in pristine countryside.

Eat: Try La Salita in Monforte di Alba (via Guglielmo Marconi, 2, 12065); Alba’s Vigin Mudest (via Vernazza, 11, 12051); and Taverna San Martino in Saluzzo (Corso Piemonte 109, 12037).

Drink

Head to Abrigo Giovanni (+39 0173-69345, via Santa Croce, 9, 12055, Diano D’alba Cuneo); and Cantina ‘L Cavis (+39 0172-421221, Strada San Giacomo, 49, 12060 Pocapaglia, Cuneo).

Shop

Tartufalba ( >tartufimorra.com ), Piazza Pertinace, 3, 12051 Alba

BLink Tip Given Piedmont is the birthplace of breadsticks (legend has it that the first batch was baked for a Savoy king who couldn’t tolerate yeast), lookout for restaurants that serve packaged ones — and avoid. The best are irregular, handmade in rustic ovens.

( Janice Pariat is the author of Boats on Land )

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