Close your eyes and imagine strolling along the docks of Porto Antico in Genoa on a clear day when the wind blows from the north. The air is crisp, filled with that biting saltiness that inevitably mingles with the aromas coming from the narrow alleyways, the famous caruggi, which pour like rivers of stone toward the sea. Here, the briny smell of water blends with the unmistakable scent of a soffritto slowly sizzling in extra virgin olive oil, sweet notes of onion, the intensity of garlic, and the earthy hint of white wine fading away. It is the fragrance of history, the deepest identity of a city that built its greatness by sailing the oceans, but which has always found its truest comfort in the warmth of an earthenware pot left to simmer on the fire.
If Liguria is calling you and you wish to explore the truest soul of this land, you must sit down at the table. Genoese cuisine is a complex narrative, made of fascinating contrasts. On one hand there is the hinterland, steep and harsh, which gives us aromatic herbs, hardy vegetables, and basil that transforms mortars into emerald treasure chests. On the other hand there is the sea, an infinite horizon and channel of communication, which has brought fish, spices, and distant traditions to our tables. In this installment of our column dedicated to flavors, we take you on a journey to discover two dishes that represent the very essence of Genoa’s seafaring and port cuisine: buridda di seppie (cuttlefish stew) and stoccafisso alla genovese (salt cod Genoese style).
We are not talking about fine dining recipes or dishes created to impress noble courts. We are talking about real food, substance, born to feed the camalli (the historic port workers), sailors returning from long voyages, and the families of fishermen. These are dishes that require time, patience, and deep respect for the ingredients. Tasting them means reading a fundamental chapter of our city’s guide, understanding how the Genoese managed to transform humble or preserved ingredients into masterpieces of taste and texture.
The scent of the ancient port and Genoa’s seafaring soul
To fully understand buridda and stoccafisso, you must first immerse yourself in the context in which they were born. Genoa, “La Superba,” has always been a crossroads of peoples, goods, and cultures. Genoese galleys sailed the Mediterranean and ventured beyond the Pillars of Hercules, all the way to the North Sea. Sailors departed for months, carrying with them ship’s biscuits, salted anchovies, and later, dried fish. Upon their return, the caruggi near the port came alive with bustling markets, where the scents of oriental spices mingled with the fresh catch of the Ligurian Sea.
The taverns of the port and the ancient “sciamadde” (flammeés, establishments where farinata and savory pies were cooked in wood-fired ovens) were the refuge of hardworking people. Here, refinement was not sought, but warmth and energy. Genoese seafaring cuisine was born in these smoky and noisy surroundings. It is a cuisine of “recovery” and wisdom: nothing was wasted. Less noble fish, tenacious mollusks, or preserved fish became the protagonists of slow, prolonged cooking, capable of tenderizing the meat and concentrating flavors.
In this scenario, buridda and stoccafisso emerge as two sides of the same coin: the former celebrates local catch, the fruits of our sea, while the latter tells the incredible Genoese ability to adopt a foreign product and make it unmistakably their own. Both dishes share a common foundation, an unmistakable Ligurian imprint: the skillful use of extra virgin olive oil, the addition of pine nuts for roundness, and the savory touch of olives, often the small and precious Taggiasca olives from Ponente.
Buridda di Seppie: the sea in an earthenware pot
The word “buridda” immediately evokes in the mind of a Genoese the reassuring murmur of a sauce cooking over the lowest heat. More than a single recipe, buridda is a technique, a philosophy of preparation that applies to different types of fish (stockfish, dogfish, conger), but finds its maximum expression, its most beloved and widespread form, in the version with cuttlefish.
Photo: Alessio Sbarbaro, Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 3.0)
The origins of the name and the dish
The etymology of the term is fascinating and tells us much about Genoa’s Mediterranean connections. Many scholars believe it derives from the Arabic buridha, which indicated fish cut into small pieces. Others connect it to the Provençal bourride, a white fish soup typical of southern France. Whatever its true linguistic root, Genoese buridda has assumed over the centuries a strong and autonomous identity.
“A dish of fish cut into pieces and cooked with oil, garlic, parsley, and sometimes with pine nuts, mushrooms, and other ingredients.”
— Giovanni Casaccia, Genoese-Italian Dictionary, 1851
This precise nineteenth-century definition perfectly captures the essence of the dish. Buridda is not a liquid soup, but a dense, rich sauce, where the ingredients merge in a creamy embrace, ideal for being scooped up with generous slices of toasted homemade bread.
The authentic recipe: patience, pine nuts, and olives
Preparing a true buridda di seppie requires time and devotion. The protagonists are fresh cuttlefish, preferably from the Ligurian Sea, which must be carefully cleaned and cut into strips or regular chunks. The secret to a perfect buridda lies in the initial soffritto: a very fine mixture of onion, garlic, carrot, and celery (although the most ancient versions used only garlic and onion), gently sautéed in abundant extra virgin olive oil. It should not fry, it should “sweat,” releasing its aromas without burning.
When the mixture is golden and fragrant, the cuttlefish is added. This is the moment to raise the heat slightly to give it flavor, before deglazing with a good glass of dry Ligurian white wine, such as Vermentino or Pigato. Once the alcohol has evaporated, tomatoes are added (peeled or passata, depending on family preferences, but always in measured quantities to not overpower the fish) and the heat is lowered to minimum. From this moment on, the pot — strictly earthenware, to maintain a constant and gentle temperature — becomes its own small world.
Halfway through cooking, the supporting actors take center stage, making the dish unmistakably Ligurian: a handful of pine nuts, which provide sweetness and a slight crunchiness, and black olives, preferably taggiasca, which add touches of bitter-savory flavor. In some variations, tender peas or diced potatoes are also added, which soften slightly as they cook, making the sauce even thicker and more velvety. After about an hour, or an hour and a half, depending on the size of the cuttlefish, the miracle is complete: the meat, initially tough, becomes soft and buttery, infused with all the flavors of the sea and the earth.
Stockfish Genoese Style: Northern Europe Meets the Mediterranean
If buridda is born from our sea, stockfish is the result of one of the most fascinating gastronomic exchanges in European history. How did a cod caught in the icy waters of Norway and dried in the Arctic winds of the Lofoten Islands become the undisputed king of Genoese tables? The answer lies, once again, in trade routes.
Photo: Christoph Strässler, Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 2.0)
A Love Born on Trade Routes
The history of stockfish arriving in Italy is often linked to the figure of Venetian merchant Pietro Querini, who was shipwrecked in the Lofoten Islands in 1432. However, it was the Genoese, highly skilled navigators and merchants, who first grasped the commercial potential of this product. During their voyages to Flanders and Northern Europe to sell spices, alum and precious fabrics, Genoese galleys needed a profitable return cargo that was economical, nutritious, and above all, had an extremely long shelf life.
Dried cod (stockfish, from Norwegian stokkfisk, stick fish) was the perfect solution. It required no salt (which was expensive at the time), weighed little, and lasted indefinitely. Upon arriving in Genoa, this stone-hard fish received a triumphal welcome. It became the lenten food par excellence, essential during the long periods of Lent imposed by the Church, and an affordable protein for the working classes and sailors.
Prepared or in Salad: The Variations of “Stocco”
In Genoa, stockfish is never called baccalà (which is salt-cured cod, also used, but with less devotion). It is affectionately called “stocco”. Before it can be cooked, this wooden fish must undergo a rite of purification and rebirth: soaking. For days, pieces of stockfish are immersed in cold running water, which must be changed frequently. The flesh rehydrates, swells, regains color and texture, losing its strong initial odor to release the aroma of deep sea.
The most iconic preparation is undoubtedly stoccafisso accomodato (or “stockfish stewed Genoese style”). The technique closely resembles that of buridda. The fish, cut into pieces, is browned in a mixture of onion, garlic, celery and carrot. Here too, the Ligurian triad never fails: pine nuts, taggiasca olives and extra virgin olive oil. The addition of tomatoes creates the sauce, but the real magic happens with the insertion of potatoes cut into thick slices or large cubes. The potatoes cook together with the fish, absorbing its juices and part of the sauce, becoming soft and very flavorful, almost more delicious than the fish itself.
Another precious addition, typical of feast days, is dried porcini mushrooms, previously soaked in warm water. The earthy, forest floor flavor of the mushroom pairs surprisingly well with the Nordic salinity of the cod, creating a balance of flavors that is the quintessence of Genoese bourgeois cuisine. There is also a summer version, stockfish salad, where the boiled fish is simply dressed with oil, lemon, garlic, parsley, boiled potatoes and olives, a hymn to freshness.
Where to Taste Real Seafood Cuisine in Genoa
If we’ve made your mouth water, know that Genoa still offers many places today where you can taste these specialties prepared according to the rules of tradition. Forget tourist restaurants with laminated menus; seek out historic taverns, those hidden in alleyways or nestled under the arcades of the port.
Photo: patano, Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 3.0)
A must-visit is the Antica Osteria di Vico Palla, located in the namesake alley just steps from Porto Antico. This historic establishment evokes the golden era when Genoa was a sought-after destination for artists and Flemish painters — Van Dyck arrived in the city in 1621 and portrayed the great Genoese aristocratic families, from the Spinola to the Brignole, staying at the home of artist Cornelis de Wael near Via Garibaldi — and is a temple of seafood cuisine. Here, amid stone walls and an atmosphere of bygone times, salt cod and buridda are prepared with religious respect for the ancient recipe.
Moving towards the Prè area, near the Commenda di San Giovanni di Pré, we find the Trattoria dell’Acciughetta. Despite being a place with a young and vibrant soul, the cuisine is firmly rooted in the territory’s traditions. Their approach to humble fish and braised dishes is masterful, offering an authentic experience in an informal and welcoming atmosphere.
Finally, for those who want to breathe the air of the true port Genoa, that of the dockers and cranes, you must head towards Sampierdarena, to the historic Osteria Marinara A’ Lanterna di Don Gallo. Located at Via Milano 134r, just steps from the Lanterna — the famous lighthouse of the port — this osteria was founded by Don Andrea Gallo in 1981 as the first social enterprise of the Comunità di San Benedetto al Porto and offers Ligurian, Italian and European cuisine with excellent fish dishes. It is a place with social purposes, committed to training and job placement, that maintains the warm hospitality of times past and offers good value for money. It is recommended to book, as the restaurant is often frequented and appreciated also for its community significance.
The insider’s tip: the scarpetta and the right wine
If you want to enjoy these dishes like a true Genoese person, there are two unwritten rules you must absolutely follow. The first concerns table etiquette: forget it. When you eat a buridda or stoccafisso accomodato, the sauce that remains on the plate is considered the best part. Leaving it would be an insult to the cook. Arm yourself with a generous slice of homemade bread, or better yet, a piece of not-too-salty Genoese focaccia, and proceed with a rigorous, methodical and satisfying “scarpetta”. Collect every single drop of that rust-colored sauce.
The second rule concerns wine pairing. Forget full-bodied red wines or oaked Chardonnays. These dishes, rich in oil and intense yet delicate flavors, call for the white wines of our region. A Vermentino from Ponente Ligure, with its fresh and savory notes, is perfect for cleansing the palate. If you’re looking for something slightly softer and more aromatic, a Pigato, with its hints of Mediterranean scrubland, will enhance the sweetness of the pine nuts and the saltiness of the olives. And for purists of the Genoese hills, a glass of Bianchetta Genovese from Val Polcevera, dry and straightforward, is the perfect match.
Genoa awaits you at the table
Genoese cuisine is a story told through simple ingredients, from sea and land, patient waiting and slow fires. Tasting a buridda of cuttlefish or stoccafisso alla genovese does not simply mean consuming a meal, but participating in an ancient ritual that renews itself every day in the kitchens of our homes and in the osterie of our alleys.
If the scents of the port and the tales of these dishes have intrigued you, we invite you to experience this firsthand. You can book now your stay by choosing from our residences scattered throughout the city’s most fascinating neighborhoods. Wake up in the morning with the aroma of freshly baked focaccia, stroll through the stalls of the Mercato Orientale and, in the evening, lose yourself in the alleys searching for your favorite osteria. If Genoa is calling you, we are here to welcome you with warmth, passion and, naturally, a place at the table always ready for you.
