‘At last!’ I hear you cry, ‘a blinking meat dish after all that fish.’ It seems a bit counter-intuitive to show you a picture of Venice and then give you, a Milanese dish. But I first tasted this in Venice many years ago.
If that summons up romantic images of expensive eateries, sighing bridges and carolling gondoliers, please disabuse yourself. We were hard-up for cash, staying in a modern hotel on the mainland and eating in an unlovely neighbourhood trattoria. But I’ve never forgotten the veal, bread-crumbed and cooked until juicy and golden, sprinkled with salt and drenched in lemon juice. Continue reading