My uncle's name was Romualdo Attilio, but everyone called him “Tilan”.

He was a big tall powerful man with enormous hands and two great passions: bread making and cooking.

Thus he constructed a tavern and an oven.

Perhaps this spirit was passed on, so that even though his oven no longer exists, yet intact on the side of the Inn, in what seems a doll house, there is an ancient wood-fired oven.

Perhaps you will succeed in convincing me to prepare bread and focaccia made the oldfashioned way, when the entire town awoke wrapped in their fragrance, and perhaps you will also succeed in convincing me to prepare the ancient dishes filled with the fragrance of the poor Ligurian tradition, that my elderly mother continues obstinately to cook.

If you don't succeed don't worry. Ask me then the names of the most fascinating places in which to eat... You can rest assured that you will not be disappointed.