I had two days on my own before they arrived, then two days to show them around. They’re moderate sightseers but—unsurprisingly, given the cumulative total of Italian DNA in our bloodstreams—like to catch up over a dining table. So our adventures included a bit of culture, a lot of food, and a football match I’ll describe in my next article.
Here’s a roundup of what we got up to. If you’re planning a trip to Milan, do consider this in partnership with my articles from December 2024. (Sforza Castle, which I revisited, was covered here.)
The Museo Poldi Pezzoli
Unlike the Certosa di Pavia, which I explored on my first solo day, this museum is right in the heart of tourist Milan—just a few hundred yards from La Scala opera house. Yet as far as visitor numbers go, it’s just as far off the beaten track. I never shared a room with more than three other people as I wandered through this exceptional museum, very similar in size and mood to London’s Wallace Collection.
Like Sir Richard Wallace, Gian Giacomo Poldi Pezzoli was an aristocratic 19th-century collector who, having no children, donated his urban mansion and its collections to the nation. The Milanese palazzo houses a quirky and exquisite collection of treasures: late medieval and Renaissance art from Milanese masters, a Baroque room overflowing with porcelain and decorative arts, a couple of very famous Botticellis, an eye-popping collection of pre-19th-century clocks and pocket watches, jewellery, striking portraits, and an armoury.
My star sight, however, was the studiolo: Poldi Pezzoli’s personal study, and reportedly his favourite room—where he chose to be moved before he died. It’s a glorious combination of frescoes, gilding, stained glass, and sculpture, pushing 19th-century Gothic Revival to its limits in anticipation of the Italian Liberty style. A sumptuous jewel box of a room, and worth the price of admission alone.
Like Sir Richard Wallace, Gian Giacomo Poldi Pezzoli was an aristocratic 19th-century collector who, having no children, donated his urban mansion and its collections to the nation. The Milanese palazzo houses a quirky and exquisite collection of treasures: late medieval and Renaissance art from Milanese masters, a Baroque room overflowing with porcelain and decorative arts, a couple of very famous Botticellis, an eye-popping collection of pre-19th-century clocks and pocket watches, jewellery, striking portraits, and an armoury.
My star sight, however, was the studiolo: Poldi Pezzoli’s personal study, and reportedly his favourite room—where he chose to be moved before he died. It’s a glorious combination of frescoes, gilding, stained glass, and sculpture, pushing 19th-century Gothic Revival to its limits in anticipation of the Italian Liberty style. A sumptuous jewel box of a room, and worth the price of admission alone.
The Duomo Roof Walk
This is about as solidly “on” the beaten track as you can get—probably second only to Leonardo’s Last Supper on the must-do list for Milan. There’s a reason for that: it is magnificent.
I’m on record saying the inside of the cathedral is a disappointment; its exterior is what’s worth your time. And there’s no better way to appreciate the splendour of the medieval stonework than to get up on the roof and see it close up.
You can walk up or pay a bit extra to take the lift, then do a circuit around the whole building, with a final climb up another set of steps along the front façade to reach the spine of the cathedral. It’s fascinating to compare the original statuary and decorative elements to newer replacements (easily spotted by their lighter colour), and to marvel at the level of detail. Much of this work would have been invisible to those on the ground, yet every fold of a robe, line of a cheek, or vein of a leaf is carved in loving detail—for the glory of God.
Even if you take the lift up, most tickets assume you’ll walk down. If you have a walking stick or mobility issues, you can talk the guards into letting you ride down as well.
This is about as solidly “on” the beaten track as you can get—probably second only to Leonardo’s Last Supper on the must-do list for Milan. There’s a reason for that: it is magnificent.
I’m on record saying the inside of the cathedral is a disappointment; its exterior is what’s worth your time. And there’s no better way to appreciate the splendour of the medieval stonework than to get up on the roof and see it close up.
You can walk up or pay a bit extra to take the lift, then do a circuit around the whole building, with a final climb up another set of steps along the front façade to reach the spine of the cathedral. It’s fascinating to compare the original statuary and decorative elements to newer replacements (easily spotted by their lighter colour), and to marvel at the level of detail. Much of this work would have been invisible to those on the ground, yet every fold of a robe, line of a cheek, or vein of a leaf is carved in loving detail—for the glory of God.
Even if you take the lift up, most tickets assume you’ll walk down. If you have a walking stick or mobility issues, you can talk the guards into letting you ride down as well.
Sunday Like Locals
My cousin’s wife has her own cousins in Milan, so we all came together for an extended family Sunday. We started with Mass at Santa Maria del Carmine. This is a church that, in Milan, is unremarkable and barely makes the guidebooks, yet would be a headline attraction in many other cities.
It has Renaissance bones, a Baroque altar lined with impressive life-sized silver reliquary busts, and a variety of side chapels ranging from original Renaissance to baroque to Gothic Revival. As a Catholic, I find attending Mass in a foreign country an interesting way to dip into local culture. The ritual is familiar, but the language foreign—you’re participating like a native, yet still an outsider.
The church sits in the heart of Milan’s posh Brera neighbourhood, which hosts an excellent Sunday market—mostly antiques with a few crafts. After Mass, we took a pleasant passeggiata through lively but not overcrowded streets, eventually circling back to almost exactly where we’d started.
Convivium Ristorante, just across the square from the church, was our lunch spot. Its eclectic East-meets-West design (including some enormous Buddha heads) contrasts with its resolutely Milanese menu. The staff filled our nine-person table with shared starters before we tucked into individual mains. The food was excellent, but secondary to the atmosphere—an ideal Sunday afternoon of familial connection, lingering until the place closed for its afternoon break.
My cousin’s wife has her own cousins in Milan, so we all came together for an extended family Sunday. We started with Mass at Santa Maria del Carmine. This is a church that, in Milan, is unremarkable and barely makes the guidebooks, yet would be a headline attraction in many other cities.
It has Renaissance bones, a Baroque altar lined with impressive life-sized silver reliquary busts, and a variety of side chapels ranging from original Renaissance to baroque to Gothic Revival. As a Catholic, I find attending Mass in a foreign country an interesting way to dip into local culture. The ritual is familiar, but the language foreign—you’re participating like a native, yet still an outsider.
The church sits in the heart of Milan’s posh Brera neighbourhood, which hosts an excellent Sunday market—mostly antiques with a few crafts. After Mass, we took a pleasant passeggiata through lively but not overcrowded streets, eventually circling back to almost exactly where we’d started.
Convivium Ristorante, just across the square from the church, was our lunch spot. Its eclectic East-meets-West design (including some enormous Buddha heads) contrasts with its resolutely Milanese menu. The staff filled our nine-person table with shared starters before we tucked into individual mains. The food was excellent, but secondary to the atmosphere—an ideal Sunday afternoon of familial connection, lingering until the place closed for its afternoon break.
Eating in the Galleria
Even more than the previous meal, this was about the experience rather than the food. You’re going to pay a premium—probably 20% to 40% more than elsewhere—for the same dishes you’d get across town, but you’re buying the privilege of sitting in one of the most iconic architectural spaces in Europe.
Even more than the previous meal, this was about the experience rather than the food. You’re going to pay a premium—probably 20% to 40% more than elsewhere—for the same dishes you’d get across town, but you’re buying the privilege of sitting in one of the most iconic architectural spaces in Europe.
Don’t bother with any of these restaurants unless you’re sitting outside with a view. Neoclassical buildings rise around you under a sparkling glass arcade, while the world promenades by on inlaid marble streets inspired by Ancient Rome.
We ate at Salotto, near the Piazza della Scala exit. I suspect all the restaurants here are similar: cheerful staff fluent in English, decent antipasti, weak spritzes, slightly soggy pizza—but no pressure to leave once you’re settled. That’s what you’re paying for, so linger. See and be seen.
We ate at Salotto, near the Piazza della Scala exit. I suspect all the restaurants here are similar: cheerful staff fluent in English, decent antipasti, weak spritzes, slightly soggy pizza—but no pressure to leave once you’re settled. That’s what you’re paying for, so linger. See and be seen.
Meat Feast
Il Mannarino is a top-quality butcher with an attached restaurant just south of Centrale Station (Via Carlo Tenca 12). Vegetarians need not apply. Culinary heretics who prefer their meat well-done should also stay home. But if you revere beef and pork, this is the place for you.
You order at the counter, take a seat, and wait for the magic. The family had just arrived after an epic trek from LA and were far too tired to make decisions, so we told the staff: just bring us nice things. A procession of delights followed. Highlights included rare bistecca fiorentina, meatballs, and Puglian bombetta—little meat rolls of pork shoulder and caciocavallo cheese wrapped in prosciutto and fried crisp.
Wine isn’t available by the glass—the smallest unit is a carafe. Sensible, really. This food deserves multiple glasses of red.
Antica Trattoria della Pesa
Worth booking. Worth taking a taxi. This classic Milanese restaurant claims to be one of the city’s oldest in continuous operation. Today, its Porta Garibaldi neighbourhood has been transformed by cutting-edge redevelopment. This is where you’ll find the Bosco Verticale, high-rises planted with vertical forests and visible from the train station.
The restaurant itself is a holdover from when this was a gritty industrial area near one of Milan’s main gates. They set up the kitchen where the best produce first arrived in town. Their menu is firmly rooted in traditional Lombard cuisine, serving ossobuco and risotto alla Milanese on par with Trattoria all’Antica in the Solari district. (I would have returned there, but it was too far from our hotel. This was a worthy substitute.)
Worth booking. Worth taking a taxi. This classic Milanese restaurant claims to be one of the city’s oldest in continuous operation. Today, its Porta Garibaldi neighbourhood has been transformed by cutting-edge redevelopment. This is where you’ll find the Bosco Verticale, high-rises planted with vertical forests and visible from the train station.
The restaurant itself is a holdover from when this was a gritty industrial area near one of Milan’s main gates. They set up the kitchen where the best produce first arrived in town. Their menu is firmly rooted in traditional Lombard cuisine, serving ossobuco and risotto alla Milanese on par with Trattoria all’Antica in the Solari district. (I would have returned there, but it was too far from our hotel. This was a worthy substitute.)
Where We Stayed
Continuing our loyalty to Club Accor—and collecting those all-important reward points— I tried out the Ibis Milano Centrale, near Centrale Station. While I prefer the Solari neighbourhood, with its Mercure and direct connection to Linate Airport, I was surprised to find I actually preferred this Ibis.
Continuing our loyalty to Club Accor—and collecting those all-important reward points— I tried out the Ibis Milano Centrale, near Centrale Station. While I prefer the Solari neighbourhood, with its Mercure and direct connection to Linate Airport, I was surprised to find I actually preferred this Ibis.
Technically, it’s a lower-tier hotel than the Mercure, but the room décor was more cheerful, the lobby larger and more comfortable, with a proper bar and restaurant (unlike the Mercure’s pokey breakfast room). It’s also just a short walk to the stop for the Line 1 tram, which runs right past La Scala, the Galleria, and the Castle. I’m likely to book here again—despite its “budget” label, it was the better hotel.
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