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When I was writing my first book, I felt an insatiable urge to finish it some place where I could look out at the sea, a place I didn’t know well enough to distract myself with nostalgia and surprise visits with old friends.

When I picked Genoa I only knew that it was far enough from my house in Rome to feel like a holiday and new enough to make procrastinating a little more difficult. 

What I didn’t know was just how deeply I would come to appreciate the many faces of a city that is undoubtedly one of the most captivating on the Mediterranean. Genoa is a fiercely independent place, where the heritage of a powerful maritime republic extends through culture, architecture and – of course – food. The cuisine of Genoa is a story that always reflects this relationship to the sea.

Like everything in this city, every dish has a story. 

I have a particular weakness for the medieval carruggi (alleyways) in the Centro Storico (Old City) that wind through the streets rising from the port. The more-modern neighborhoods (by Italian measures) that extend up past the Strada Nuova and along the via XX Settembre are also well worth strolling (and climbing). All those stairs mean there’s always another street to discover, one with its own little legends hiding just around the corner. 

Genoa is a city built for the insatiably curious. I wound up finishing that first book – and even writing a few after that. Whenever I need to be inspired to finish, I know exactly where to come. 

Breakfast

Although I’ve lived in Italy for more than a decade, I still haven’t quite adopted the habit of a taking sweet pastry with my morning coffee. (It’s the New Yorker in me, I suppose: we’ve all been raised on a diet of bagels and bacon-egg-and-cheese sandwiches from our corner delis.) Yet in Genoa, the savory breakfast is a time-honored tradition – and nothing hits quite like a big hunk of salty, perfectly pockmarked focaccia with your piping-hot cappuccino. One of the staples of the Genovese culinary canon, focaccia is known as fugassa in the local dialect, and it’s very common to dunk it into your morning brew as you watch the world wake up. 

You’ll find focaccia in the mornings just about anywhere in the city. My favorite spot is the medieval quarter’s , a century-old spot with gilded walls full of tinctures, liquors and curiosities; it’s a place that never fails to get my creative juices flowing. Of course, excellent coffee and a steady procession of local personalities also help. By 9am, the rush has ended, and you’ve got a front-row seat to that undeniable swag that anyone from Genoa seems to effortlessly exude. Seriously, even the dogs here are cool.  

Coffee

Since coffee is a basic right in Genoa, you’ll find many cafes that are part of the botteghe storiche (historic shops) of the city. There are even a few roasters still left in the city like the indomitable , an institution for nearly a century. Yet Genoa is a city that never takes a good thing for granted, and while a traditional coffee culture is firmly entrenched here, there’s plenty of room for innovation. Lovers of the Chemex or cold brew, fear not:  has that and more on offer, as well as a menu of universal favorites like avocado toast. If you’re in the mood for something sweet with your coffee, stop into  for French-style pastries and mighty coffees that will fuel you for the rest of the day (or at least until lunch). 

Or you can get it all in one little bowl, for coffee isn’t just a drink in Genoa. Indeed, if you leave the city without standing in line at for a ±èà²Ô±ð°ù²¹, I fear you’ll have missed one of the great joys of this city. ±Êà²Ô±ð°ù²¹ is a coffee semifreddo that can, will and should become part of your daily Genovese ritual. It is decadently creamy, packs a punch and will not make you feel guilty at all since you’ve got to walk up and down the jagged carruggi to get it.  I have rewarded myself with ±èà²Ô±ð°ù²¹ after a productive writing session more times than I likely should have. Come to think of it, if I had written as often as I found myself waiting in line outside that minuscule storefront, I’d be Balzac by now.

Lunch

Genoa is defined by the mixture of cultures that have always converged on its shores, and even its most famous dishes are a reflection of that (more on that in a moment). But for a modern take on the city’s multicultural cuisine, there’s no better place to go than the . Long the central market in the city, the MOG in its current incarnation includes a wide variety of food stalls and restaurants that you can stop into for a quick bite in the middle of the day. Stay traditional with or , or sample some Peruvian food with local touches at . No matter what you’re in the mood to munch, you’ll find top-quality ingredients and passionate people who love nothing more than chatting about food. On your way out, peruse the stalls at the original Mercato Orientale to grab some fresh produce or fish for dinner. 

If you’re in the mood to sit down somewhere along the port (especially if you’re checking out the excellent Galata Museum of the Sea), make a beeline for , snagging a table outside on lively Piazza Sant’Elena if the sun is shining. The cozy interior is just as good for perfect fried anchovies or frisceu, a pillowy fried dough with sage mayonnaise. The ²ú²¹³¦³¦²¹±ôà goes perfectly well with some local vermentino white wine.

Aperitivo

Because I’m a sucker for old-school vibes, and because Genoa is full of them, I almost always end up at , a stone’s throw from the Palazzo Ducale yet – like all magic tricks in this town – hardly visible until you stumble upon it. While the bar itself isn’t technically Genoa’s oldest, it faithfully maintains the most Genovese tradition of them all: the Corochinato, a white wine that’s something like vermouth and flavored with 18 different herbs that are infused for about six months. It’s served in exactly the same way to poets, dockworkers, students and ne’er-do-wells: chilled with a lemon peel, and accompanied by obligatory focaccia. It’s simply the taste of Genoa in a glass – and the perfect bridge between a long day spent wandering and whatever the nighttime might bring.

If I want to sit for a little longer and really absorb the life of the carruggi, I usually wind up at , a cozy spot that I walked past and admired a dozen times before I stepped in. It is supremely welcoming, and has what those of us who sit in the corner and scribble dream about: perfect lighting. Oh and also, an unbeatable gin and tonic. 

Pesto

It would be inconceivable to come to Genoa without eating massive quantities of pesto, and no one should skip going big on the stuff. After all, pesto sums up everything about the history of this place in one bite: the Pecorino Sardo speaks to a centuries-long connection between Sardinia and the Maritime Republic that once ruled the seas, and the mixture of herbs and oil was developed as a curative paste that could sustain men at sea for long periods. The mortar-and-pestle preparation method dates to ancient Rome, while the signature basil was brought from points east, a(n almost literal) fruit of exploration. So think of it this way: you’re not a glutton. You’re a historian.

Pesto is almost always served with traditional trofie pasta, and the classic dish also incorporates potatoes and string beans. If you can brave the lines, try it out at , which has been serving it up for more than a century. If you’re willing to travel a bit, in Rapallo is worth the trip for both the pesto and the delightful ambiance. If you want to travel with your pesto, stop by or , where you can buy it in bulk and serve it up any way you like at home. 

Dinner

Like many cities, Genoa has a checkered past. And like many port cities, this past usually involves lots of sinister goings-on in creepy corners where the moonlight doesn’t reach, and the halo of gas lamps once cast a pallid glow. The city shed those particular characteristics long ago – yet but the carruggi of the historic center still have a particularly moody feel to them that’s hard to find these days. I think that’s why I like going to  so much; it almost feels like an oasis in the darkened alleys of the Maddelena quarter. The food is also fantastic, the service wonderful and the prices unbeatable. Plus, they’re kind to walk-ins (though reservations are preferred).

If you’re outside of the center and want to keep it that way, there are few better places than , close to the Genoa Brignole train station. The wine list is excellent and the cappon magro does justice to the classic seafood-salad recipe in a way that few others manage. It’s also the sister restaurant to the trattoria that’s my lunchtime go-to but – what can I say? I know a good thing when I see it. Or taste it.

Bar

It seems like the entire city ends the night in Piazza delle Erbe, and although I don’t always make it there I think it’s great that this tiny square has maintained its legendary status for so many years. Generally speaking, the bar scene in Italy is a multigenerational affair: you’ll likely see a band of senior brothers carousing next to a family with small children and some students celebrating the end of exams. The medieval Piazza delle Erbe echoes this, and whether you go to or you’ll be a part of the giant community that makes Genoa special. There will often be musicians wandering through the square, with patrons frequently joining in to sing.

After a little while there I always like to make my way back through the medieval streets and pass the monumental palazzi of the Strada Nuova, lit up and glorious. Genoa is the sort of place that’s always got another story up its sleeve, one that you wouldn’t believe anywhere else.

Here, it makes perfect sense.