A day in Moncalvo — the hilltop city, Bue Grasso and truffles

Moncalvo calls itself one of Italy's smallest cities, and it means it — a title granted centuries ago that the town has never let go of. It sits on a ridge in the northern Monferrato Astigiano, a huddle of brick and portico with three valleys falling away below. Two things made its name: the white truffles that come out of these hills in autumn, and the Bue Grasso, the fat-ox fair it's been holding since the 1600s. The painter Guglielmo Caccia worked here too — everyone calls him Il Moncalvo — and the town still runs a music festival under his name. A day is enough to walk it, taste it and eat properly. Here's how.

Morning — the square, the towers and the old town

Start with coffee. Take it at the bar at Caffè Del Moncalvo, a proper local hangout where the regulars trade jokes over the counter, or sit out under the arcades at Caffè Roma on the main piazza. Then walk up to the Castello dei Marchesi del Monferrato. Most of the fortress came down in 1878 to open up a market square, so don't expect grand interiors — what's left is two brick towers and the restored walkways between them, now home to the tourist office, and a view over the hills that on a clear day reaches the Sanctuary of Crea and the Alps beyond. Climb the tower; that's the point.

From Piazza Castello, take La Rampa del Tartufo up to the huge Piazza Carlo Alberto — a stepped pedestrian ramp hung with reproductions of the old Truffle Fair posters, part of the town's open-air museum trail. On the way through the centre, look up at Casa Lanfrancone, a Gothic townhouse whose exposed-brick façade goes back to the thirteenth century; the old shopfronts tucked into its ground floor are half the charm. If you've come on a first Sunday of the month, the antiques market will have filled those same porticoes with dealers — go early, when the choice is best and the light's still low under the arcades.

Late morning — a cellar, out among the vines

Moncalvo is wine country, so give the late morning to a tasting before you eat. Cabiale Roberto is a working family cellar a short way out of town — call ahead and Roberto will pour you through the range, Barbera mostly, with a Grignolino that tends to change people's minds and a Martinotti-method brut called Prima Luce for anyone who opens a bottle before lunch. Come to taste and buy; this isn't a staged tour, and the regulars leave with a case. For something more structured, book the reserved tasting at Borgo Moncalvo: fifteen euros gets four wines at the counter, or the €33 Elite flight climbs to the "heroic" rows the family works by hand because a tractor would tip over. If you'd rather just fill the boot, Sette Colli is the growers' cooperative on the edge of town — don't be put off by the concrete shed; walk in, someone pours you a few without ceremony, and bottles start around €6.50. Ask for the Grignolino and the Ruchè.

Lunch — a long Piedmontese table

This is a beef town, and lunch should say so. Corona Reale is the trattoria-vineria on everyone's list: tagliata of Fassone, topside with tuna sauce, truffle in season, and a wine list long enough to lose an hour in — ask for the private room upstairs if it's free, for the view. For refined cooking at the same address of ambition, Ristorante Centrale turns out vitello tonnato, a crisp breaded egg and slow-cooked short rib; the room fills and the service can slow, so settle in rather than rush. Monsú Mario sits under brick vaults with an open cellar — the owner works the room and the wines, her husband cooks, and a tasting menu keeps the bill honest. For the pasta specifically, L'Osteria Aleramo makes it in-house: agnolotti in veal jus, gnocchi people cross the region for. And if you've kids or just want it simple, Antico Castello does big plates and wood-fired pizza in the family-run way.

Afternoon — hills, music and gelato

Walk lunch off. Italy Bike Resort rents e-bikes and guides tours out through the vineyards and villages around town — the pedal-assist takes the sting out of the climbs. If there's a concert on, Palazzo Testa Fochi opens its rooms for the Guglielmo e Orsola Caccia music festival, a quietly grand setting behind a plain brick front. Travelling with children, the little playground in the Parchetto di Piazza Carlo Alberto sits right by the castle porticoes with one of the best viewpoints in town. Then gelato: Il Cono Matto on the main square makes the good stuff — dark chocolate, unusual flavours, cones for those who can't do gluten — and it's the local favourite for a reason. As the evening comes on, an aperitivo of local sparkling wine and salami out under the arcades, or a burger and a beer at Black Truffle, the easygoing little pub below the square where Massimo looks after you and, yes, one of the burgers has truffle in it.

When to come

Any Thursday or Sunday you'll catch the market rhythm the town keeps. But the two dates worth planning around are seasonal. In late October the National Truffle Fair fills Piazza Carlo Alberto with white truffle and Monferrato food, guided hill walks thrown in. And on the first Sunday of December the Fiera del Bue Grasso does the thing Moncalvo has done since 1638: the best-fattened Piemontese oxen judged under the porticoes while the Sagra del Bollito serves boiled beef across the squares. Dress for a cold morning standing outside. If you want the region's cooking laid out side by side without the winter, come the third weekend of June for the Festa delle Cucine Monferrine, when fifteen or so Pro Loco crews cook their own villages' dishes across the centre — bring cash, the good stands don't all take cards.

By late afternoon the fog can come up off the vineyards and settle in the valleys below the walls, and the towers go quiet. Stand at the end of one of the streets that runs off Piazza Carlo Alberto, look out at the hills, and you'll understand why a town this small ever bothered calling itself a city.