Mombaruzzo

A giant swing on a ridge above the Barbera vineyards, with parking, benches, and room for a picnic right beside it. Push off and the whole valley opens up — but only on a clear day, so come once the fog has lifted. It's a 15-minute walk up from the village.

Francesco Moriondo wrote down the Mombaruzzo amaretti recipe back in the late 1700s, and the Moriondo Virginio workshop still keeps it. The visit shows how the soft almond macaroons come together, and you can taste them with a glass of Moscato d'Asti DOCG if you like. Reservation needed, and they can host in English — Via Saracco 15, Mombaruzzo.

The Berta family is three generations into distilling grappa, and the tour of their distillery in the Casalotto hamlet of Mombaruzzo takes in the alembic museum, the four ageing cellars and how steam-still distillation actually works. It closes on a tasting of three distillates or liqueurs, paired with Mombaruzzo's soft amaretti. Reservation required; morning and afternoon slots run daily.

A 17th-century Genoese villa that stayed in the Pallavicini family for three centuries, now privately owned and part of a small museum. It opens only by appointment, so ring ahead — turn up unannounced and you'll see the façade and no more.

A professional bartender walks you through building three signature Berta cocktails at Distillerie Berta, using the distillery's own spirits and liqueurs. Book at least a week ahead.

The landscaped park and museum at the Berta grappa distillery, with a botanical garden and a pastry shop on site. Inside, glass floors let you walk suspended over the ageing barriques and old copper stills. Even if grappa isn't your thing, the place and its story are worth the stop.

After a guided visit of the distillery, cellars and museum and a tasting, this hands-on lab at Distillerie Berta walks you through the phases of distillation, then you fill and label your own bottle from the Primaneve line. That bottle's yours to take home, in the price. Reservation mandatory.

A large protected woodland spread across Mombaruzzo and its neighbours, laced with paths once divided into 'sorti' — lots drawn by lot for firewood. It's cool and green on a hot day and good for a quiet walk with the dog. Bring a map, though: the signage thins out fast once you're in.

Reserve ahead and let the owner steer you toward a Barbera — that's how to eat at this Mombaruzzo osteria. The tajarin with black truffle, the risotto, and a tiramisù made with local amaretti come up again and again, cooked somewhere between home kitchen and fine dining. Service is warm and unhurried.

Set among its own vineyards, this organic agriturismo pairs Gregorio's wines with a kitchen that leans on what the farm grows. Ravioli with goat's-milk ricotta and mint, tagliatelle with ragù, and a proper tagliata turn up on the plates, and Gregorio himself walks guests through the cellar. Eat outside for the view.

A small spot that turns first-timers into regulars — people talk up the menu and come back again and again. Gemma runs the room, and the welcome is half the reason they return.

A small-town trattoria in the old centre where a fixed menu does the deciding: several antipasti, a Barbera risotto or green ravioli, a roast, then a homemade dessert and coffee, poured with a local Barbera. Portions are generous and the value's hard to beat, though service can run slow when it's busy.

Simple, family-run, and the kind of place that feels like eating at home — Serena runs the room, chef Yuri the kitchen. Portions come generous and the cooking is honest, with a homemade aperitivo that families take their time over. Ask the price of the day's specials before you order.

The village pizzeria, casual and easy, with a terrace for warm evenings and a waiter who'll switch to English. The pizzas are the reason to come — most leave happy, though the odd dish misses. Good for a relaxed dinner in Mombaruzzo without much fuss.

A bar and pasticceria in the centre that still makes the town's amaretti to the old recipe. Stop for a coffee and the hazelnut cake — the kind where you can see the hazelnuts — or pick up Baci di Dama, honey, and a homemade amaretto liqueur. Breakfast here is a local ritual.

No menu, shared tables, and a fixed lunch — antipasti, a first and second course, wine and coffee — for around the price of a sandwich elsewhere. The room is frankly dated, all 1980s fittings, but the home cooking more than makes up for it. Come on a Thursday for the bollito.