It’s officially August in Milan. Traditionally, everyone bolts for their family casa by the sea or in the mountains as the city shutters like a ghost town. Or it did once upon a time. These days, Milan is not the sleepy August cliché it once was. Call it pragmatism, call it opportunism—but in a city that thrives on reinvention, the August dining scene is quietly rewriting the script. More and more of the city’s best restaurants are staying open through the month of ferie, perhaps sensing that not everyone has the luxury (or the stamina?) for a full-on escape. Or perhaps cashing in on all the business their shuttered neighbors are leaving on the table.
So, if you’re in town this month, whether breezing through or holed up with the city dwellers who swear they crave the quiet, I’ve curated a dining guide for exactly that: where to eat in Milan during August. You can read it here.
As for me? I’m attempting the holiday wind-down—at least in spirit. I’ll be retreating from the urban fray for a couple of weeks, though the work never really stops (freelancer life, as you know). July wasn’t exactly festive: sidelined by antibiotics and a minor but irritating infection, Campari spritzes and multi-course indulgences were temporarily off-limits. Still, even in a slightly muted state, I managed to slip in a few stellar meals—the quiet, comforting, deeply satisfying bites that remind you why you love living in Milan in the first place.
Shiro
If you’re lucky enough to know Shiro, then you know. I might be even luckier, living just a short stroll away. It has quietly become my sanctuary for solo lunches, especially when the summer heat makes even the thought of turning on the stove unbearable. (Yes, even with the AC.)
Slipping in without a reservation is effortless, particularly if you’re willing to sit at the sushi bar, which I always am. I rarely glance at the menu anymore. I simply order the sushi lunch special: a meticulous parade of nigiri, uramaki, and hosomaki, accompanied by miso soup and a delicate starter to ease you in. Dessert is a choice between coffee or a scoop of matcha or black sesame gelato—I almost always choose the latter. It’s the sort of lunch that feels quietly indulgent and entirely necessary. Honestly? I could eat here three times a week, and one day soon. I just might. Website/em>
La Baia
La Baia is one of those no-fuss, all-heart spots that make you fall in love with Milan all over again. It’s been holding it down since 1969, when Paolo and Laura Longhi opened its doors. Today, their daughter Sabrin runs the show, and Leo Matterese, who’s been manning the oven since 1982 (yes, really), still turns out impossibly thin Milanese pizzas with casual confidence. It’s not just the classic pies, either. There’s padellino-style pizza, the glorious sfilatino (like a pizza rolled up into a baguette), and a few other carb-forward surprises.
I stopped in one afternoon for a solo lunch—first, because I was craving pizza. And second, because I realized I didn’t have a decent video of their iconic thin-crust pie for my Skip the Influencer Traps in Milan TikTok series. (I’d gone padellino on recent visits.)
What I love about La Baia, besides its sheer staying power, is that since it can be hard to decide between all the toppings, you can actually go half and half. And this time I did. One side: sausage and burrata. The other: potatoes, Parmigiano, and sage. Golden, earthy, and obscenely satisfying. Website
Pastamadre
If you follow me on social, you already know I’m a regular at Pastamadre. It’s one of those rare spots where the food is so consistently good that deciding what to eat becomes its own challenge—that’s my only complaint. And I don’t mean that to sound like a brat. I’m well aware that choosing between the seasonal specials and the evergreens, like the dreamy spaghetti alle chitarre with stracciatella and raw red shrimp, or the lively spaghetti alla sarde, is a good problem to have. Anyhoo, I digress.
So, on this particular July afternoon, there was no debate: ‘tis the season for spaghetti alla Nerano. Yes, that Nerano—the zucchini-laced, creamy pasta from Campania that Stanley Tucci helped turn into a global sensation. But for those of us living here, the bandwagon came long before Tucci’s cameras.
Chef Francesco Costanzo’s version is rich and savory, Provolone del Monaco melting into the pasta, and just the right hit of fresh basil. Skipping it during zucchini season would almost feel criminal. The rest of the meal didn’t disappoint either. The caponata was textbook-perfect: sweet, acidic, silky. But the sleeper hit? A starter of fioroni figs—the early summer variety from Puglia—paired with Salva Cremasco, a DOP cheese from Lombardy, and a drizzle of honey. In a word: exquisite. Website
Mason’s Famous Lobster Roll
As I always say, Milan is an international city. It’s a Fashion Week city. So you have to approach it like you would Paris or London. If an American lobster roll joint opened there, no one would bat an eye. So why is it so shocking to find one in Milan? That said, I’m not exactly a lobster roll girl. Not because I don’t appreciate a buttery bun filled with sweet crustacean—but because I have a deep, immovable aversion to mayonnaise. (It’s personal. I don’t want to talk about it.)
So when I heard that Mason’s Lobster Roll, run by two Calabresi brothers, had not one but two mayo-free options, I was intrigued. Both involve ‘nduja—because of course they do—and they’re properly spicy, properly messy, and totally satisfying. Milan meets Maine with a Calabrian kick.
Not only will they prepare any of the lobster rolls mayonnaise-free, but they also do grilled cheese, made the American way. Meaning: no sad toast with a single slice of half-melted cheese. We’re talking real-deal grilled cheese—one classic, and one stuffed with lobster. A little East Coast comfort, done with Italian flair. Stranger things have happened in this city. And some of them wore Prada. Website
Il Forno di Via Pola
Okay, so this one’s not a proper sit-down meal—but it absolutely counts. First of all, Il Forno di Via Pola in Isola doesn’t even have seating. And second, when something is this delicious, the setting is irrelevant.
Two of my friends—true legends of the aperitivo circuit—were hosting at their place, and I offered to bring something. Specifically: the pizzette from Via Pola. Were my motives purely altruistic? Not entirely. Any excuse to grab those golden, crisp-edged beauties, I’ll take.
These pizzette are small, round discs of focaccia, topped with a dazzling tomato sauce and a sprawled layer of melted mozzarella on top. Pillowy yet crisp, richly flavored, and wildly addictive. Sharing them feels generous—but mostly it’s just fun to watch everyone’s eyes go wide when they take their first bite and realize, mid-chew, that they’ve just been converted.
They’re not just snacks. They’re conversation stoppers. The kind of bite-sized bliss that makes you pause, recalibrate, and reach for another before they all disappear from the tray. And yes, I definitely over-ordered—for precisely that purpose. Website
