Gray Milano

"One must have a mind of winter..." Wallace Stevens

The sky and soft mist are the same stoney shade as the Duomo. Cold and wet, wet and cold, yes, but not bone-chilling. Milano in January feels exhilarating. It’s almost empty, the Piazza del Duomo this morning, and I’ve only seen it before with crowds and fluttering pigeons. Nearby, the domed, glass-roofed Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, lined with all the fabled shops of Italian designers, seems wondrous too, with so few taking photos of themselves and the sales people staring out from deserted shops that have lured the design conscious shopper since 1867. The Galleria provides, also, sheltered access from the Piazza del Duomo to the Piazza della Scala. The grand Milanese living room. Without throngs, the architecture remains—those patterned tile floors, the soaring expanses of glass, the lofty height that seems to lift the spirits.

What’s lively in the neighborhood are the bars and restaurants. Everyone inside looks cozy—immersed in conversation with friends or hunched over steaming hot chocolate and coffee.

I do seem to have a mind of winter here. I’m mesmerized by the impressionist scenes, the whoosh of the espresso machines, the elegant winter attire of the residents. What gorgeous wool coats! Few, if any outerwear that looks like sleeping bags. A handsome man in a fiercely cut gray coat wears a red Borsalino-type hat. He’s aware of just how great he looks. Marvelous how everyone knows how to knot a scarf. Boots! They must be practical but look simply elegant.

There’s little I love more than bar life in Italy. We’re out early this morning at Iginio Massari, which is filled with people en route to work. It’s a party. Impossible to choose among the pastries so we select three for tasting. We walk over to Peck’s, the grand food emporium, and just stare at the food as though we were in an art gallery. Later, another coffee at Voce, in the Piazza della Scala, where the opera house reigns. Are three coffees allowed in a morning? Well, yes, if you get to stop at Marchesi 1824 in the Galleria. They’ve been baking delectables and pouring coffee since 1824.

Iginio Massari pastry, Ed at Marchesi 1824, Peck's amazing produce, a pretty window we passed, at Bialetti, moka pot heaven, Voce bar

Wandering in the winter might not sound inviting, but with bright colors and many people subtracted from the scene, it’s as if details jump out. The glowing windows of specialty shops selling chocolate, vintage jewelry, hats, china, papers, and especially the big bookstores, lure us inside. So much becomes vivid. My favorite photo below—it looks like a painter 100 years ago caught this bus on canvas. I love the reflection of the yellow lights on the wet street.

This is the beginning of a short family trip. Milano has become a good choice for meeting when we’re coming from Cortona, the US, and China. Onward into the mountains tomorrow, but meanwhile reveling in the surprise of wintery Milano. Walking to dinner, I was stopped by the statue of Leonardo da Vinci in the Piazza della Scala, the location of the famous opera house. Seeing him gazing through a scree of bare branches is an image not seen in another season.

You could fancy that he hears, all these decades, the faint strains of arias floating from La Scala across the piazza.