Most travelers treat Genoa as a staircase to somewhere else. They land at Cristoforo Colombo Airport, catch a train to Cinque Terre or Portofino, and never look back. The city they skip is the one that invented pesto, perfected focaccia, and built an entire cuisine around the hunger of sailors who spent months at sea.
Genoa is Italy's most underrated food city. Not because the food is subtle. Because the city doesn't perform for tourists. There are no Piazza Navona-style restaurants with English menus and violinists. Instead, you get a working port where dockworkers eat at 6am before their shift, where bakeries sell focaccia by the kilo, and where an osteria might refuse to serve you because the owner doesn't feel like cooking that night.
Start at the Mercato Orientale. The building itself is worth the trip — an iron-and-glass structure from 1899 that was renovated in 2015 and now holds both traditional stalls and modern food counters. On the ground floor, find Fratelli Carli for olive oil pressed from Taggiasca olives grown in the hills behind the city. The oil here is peppery and grassy, nothing like the bland export version. At Anfossi, buy pesto ingredients: Genovese basil from Pra (the microclimate there produces smaller, sweeter leaves), pine nuts from the slopes of the Maritime Alps, and aged Pecorino Sardo. The stallholders will tell you that real pesto never sees a blender. Mortar and marble, or nothing.
The market's upstairs level has food counters where you can eat standing. Try the trippo at Tripperia La Rosetta — tripe stewed with tomatoes and white wine, a dish that dockworkers have eaten for centuries. Or go to Il Pesto di Pra for a plate of trofie al pesto, the hand-rolled pasta twists that catch the sauce in their ridges. A plate costs €8 and comes with a glass of house white. The trofie should be slightly firm, the pesto thin enough to coat without drowning, and the potatoes and green beans (cooked in the same water) should be soft enough to split with your fork.
Focaccia is Genoa's breakfast. Not the thick, herbed stuff Americans call focaccia. Genovese focaccia is thin, about 1cm deep, dimpled by fingertips and slick with Ligurian olive oil. It's eaten plain, sometimes with a sprinkle of salt. The best comes from bakeries, not cafés. Try Focacceria San Lorenzo on Via San Lorenzo, open from 7am, where the dough is risen for 18 hours and the crust has the slight crunch of a well-baked pizza bianca. Order "una fetta" (a slice) for €1.50 and eat it walking. The traditional move is to dip it in your morning cappuccino, which sounds wrong until you try it.
Farinata is another Genovese staple that deserves more attention. It's a chickpea flour pancake, baked in a wood-fired oven until the edges crisp and the center stays creamy. The classic version is plain, but look for places that do farinata con cipolle (with onions) or farinata di zucca (with pumpkin). At Antica Sciamadda in the historical center, they've been making it since 1954. A slice costs €2.50 and is served on wax paper. Eat it hot, standing at the counter. The texture should be custardy inside, with a blistered, almost burnt top.
For sit-down meals, head to the caruggi — the narrow alleyways of the old town. Trattoria da Maria, near Piazza delle Erbe, has been run by the same family since 1973. No reservations, no credit cards, no menu in English. Arrive at 12:30pm for lunch or 7:30pm for dinner, or wait outside with the locals. Order the pansoti in salsa di noci (pasta filled with wild herbs and ricotta, dressed with walnut sauce), the cappon magro (a layered salad of seafood, vegetables, and hardtack soaked in olive oil and vinegar), and the stoccafisso in umido (salt cod stewed with tomatoes and olives). The pansoti are made fresh each morning and the walnut sauce is ground by hand. A full meal with wine runs €25-30 per person.
Antica Osteria del Porto, near the harbor, specializes in ciuppin — Genoa's answer to bouillabaisse. The broth is lighter than the French version, made with rockfish, tomatoes, white wine, and a splash of Genovese olive oil. It's served with toasted bread rubbed with garlic. The restaurant has been here since 1968 and the walls are covered with photos of fishermen. Order the mixed antipasto di mare first: marinated anchovies, octopus salad, and mussels dressed simply with lemon and parsley. The anchovies are local, from the waters off the Ligurian coast, and they're prepared scabeccio style — fried then marinated in vinegar, garlic, and sage.
For a modern take on Ligurian food, go to Soho in the Carmine district. Chef Luca Collami grew up in Genoa, trained in Copenhagen, and returned to open a restaurant that treats local ingredients with Nordic precision. The menu changes daily based on what the fishermen bring. Expect dishes like raw red shrimp with lemon zest and Taggiasca olive oil, or pasta with sea urchin and wild fennel. A tasting menu is €65, which is expensive for Genoa but reasonable compared to Milan or Florence. Book ahead — there are only 22 seats.
Wine in Genoa means Liguria, which most Italians dismiss as an afterthought. They're wrong. The Cinque Terre produces white wines from Bosco, Albarola, and Vermentino grapes that are crisp, saline, and perfect with seafood. Look for labels from Walter de Battè or Possa. From the hills behind Genoa, try Rossese di Dolceacqua — a light red that drinks almost like a dark rosé, with notes of rose and wild strawberry. It works with both fish and meat. For dessert wine, order Sciacchetrà, the passito from Cinque Terre made by drying grapes on straw mats. It's honeyed and complex, nothing like cheap Moscato. A glass at a good restaurant costs €8-12.
Don't skip the aperitivo culture. Genoese aperitivo is less performative than Milan's. No massive buffets of sad pasta salad. Instead, you get a drink and a small plate of something good. Go to Caffè degli Specchi in Piazza De Ferrari, a historic café that opened in 1908. Order a Biancosarti on the rocks — an artichoke-based amaro that tastes like liquid bittersweet herbs — and get a plate of anchovy-stuffed olives. Or try a glass of Punt e Mes, the vermouth that was invented in Turin but is more popular here than anywhere. It's darker and more bitter than standard sweet vermouth, and it's served with a slice of orange and a splash of soda.
For dessert, Genoa has its own traditions. Canestrelli are flower-shaped shortbread biscuits made with butter and lemon zest, sold at pastry shops throughout the city. Try them at Romanengo, a confectionery on Via Soziglia that has been operating since 1780. Or order pandolce, the Genovese Christmas cake that's studded with raisins, pine nuts, and candied fruit. It's denser than panettone and stays fresh for weeks, which is why sailors carried it on long voyages. At Pasticceria Liquoreria Marescotti di Cavo, a shop that dates to 1780, they still make it by hand during the holiday season.
One warning: Genoa closes early by Italian standards. Many trattorias stop serving by 10pm. The city is not built for nightlife tourists. Plan your main meal for lunch or an early dinner, and use the evening to walk off the focaccia along the Porto Antico, the old harbor that Renzo Piano redeveloped in 1992. The walk from the aquarium to the Galata Maritime Museum takes 15 minutes and gives you views of the working port on one side and the medieval city on the other. The contrast is the point — Genoa has always been both.
A practical note: the historical center is a maze. The caruggi are narrow, dark, and easy to get lost in. That's part of the experience, but if you're heading to a specific restaurant, leave 10 minutes extra. Google Maps struggles here, and the locals navigate by memory. If you're lost, ask. Genoese people are reserved but helpful, especially if you attempt a few words of Italian.
Another warning: Monday is not a good day for restaurants in Genoa. Many close entirely, and those that open often have limited menus. Plan your food crawl for Tuesday through Sunday. And bring cash. The traditional places — the ones worth eating at — often don't take cards.
Leave room in your suitcase. Buy a jar of pesto from Mercato Orientale, a bottle of Taggiasca olive oil from Fratelli Carli, and a bag of canestrelli from Romanengo. These are the flavors of a port city that has been feeding sailors and traders for a thousand years. The rest of Italy gets the glory. Genoa gets the recipes.
By Sophie Brennan
Irish food writer and historian based in Lisbon. Sophie combines her background in medieval history with a passion for contemporary gastronomy. She has written for Condé Nast Traveller and authored two cookbooks exploring Celtic and Iberian culinary traditions.