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PERUGIA
BRUFANI PALACE HOTEL
Up on the first floor, I liked my first impression of room 130 (a suite, and therefore 889 euros a night, bed and breakfast for two). Its colours were rich and warm: gold (for the damask on the walls), green (for the carpet) and crimson (for the velvet of the sofa and the easy chair). From its balcony and windows I could gaze at a wide sweep of Umbrian hills. Cross-banded woods and ormolu mounts on the furniture and the dress of the young lady in the oil painting set the style in the 18th century. Five table lamps and two gilt wall lights provided restful illumination. In the bathroom of grey and dark green marble, I found two wash basins, a bidet, a tub of proper length, a separate shower and bright spotlights.
In the evenings there was a slight chill in the air, and I found it a real pleasure to return to the warmth of The Brufani Palace. And what joy – to be greeted by a log fire, blazing in a huge Renaissance style fireplace in one of the hallways. Yet the warmth came from the staff, too. Everyone was so very friendly and willing to converse, for I confess that I can sometimes be a tiny bit garrulous. I concluded that the General Manager, Enrico Costa, must be running a happy ship.
Those reports were accurate. This kitchen uses good ingredients in a straightforward and intelligent way, to produce dishes which are hugely enjoyable. It can also respond, as the kitchen of a grand hotel should be able to respond, to the particular requirements of individual guests. I began with a dish from the menu – scallops, wrapped in bacon fat and served with a warm quail egg sabayon. All the flavours were present and correct. Then, since I was in Truffle Land, I thought I should go off the menu and have a simple pasta covered with the divine fungus. Signor Sereni suggested pappardelle, like a wide form of tagliatelle. It was wonderful: the pasta soft, but not too soft, and the multitude of truffle shavings adding gastronomic magic. Back with the menu, fillet of veal with sautéed potatoes also came with black truffle, and was a fine piece of meat. To end I made another special request, and the resulting Crèpes Suzette was as rich and as luscious as I could have wanted. (Allow around 90 euros for four courses from the carte.)
I began by observing that the inhabitants of Perugia are much blessed. So are its visitors. Not only do benedictions pour upon them from the city’s works of art: rich extra blessings are imparted to those who stay at The Brufani Palace Hotel. Its location, its history, its style, its comfort, its food and its level of service make The Brufani Palace a real credit to its great city.
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THE BRUFANI PALACE HOTEL
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© Francis Bown 2003
Umbria has 800 mediaeval towns and villages. Its capital is Perugia, whose inhabitants are much blessed. For Italians, particularly of the younger sort, are given to the passeggiata – the evening promenade which is part fashion show, part opportunity for gossip and part match-making exercise. In Perugia the fortunate youngsters perform this ritual along the wide corso Vannucci, one of the most beautiful thoroughfares in Europe. This is the central axis of the magnificent old town, perched upon its hill near the centre of the city. The corso Vannucci runs into the piazza Italia, and here – exactly where everyone of taste and discernment wants to be – I found my sort of hotel. I like an hotel which exudes patrician refinement. And – with its stone fireplaces, parquet floors and ancient paintings – that is exactly what The Brufani Palace does.
Opened in 1884, this solid and handsome pile was built on the ruins of a papal palace. Indeed, the historical antecedents go back further – for, through the waters of the swimming pool, cunningly inserted into the mediaeval vaults (pictured), there can be glimpsed ruins which date back to the Etruscan period. However, it was something altogether more modern which caught my eye as I checked in at the Reception desk: the framed photographs of Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother, taken when she was staying at the hotel. She looked very happy, so I supposed that I would be very happy, too. I supposed correctly.
It is becoming too frequent that my silly back complains when confronted with an unknown bed – usually because it is too hard. Still, this does at least provide me with an opportunity to test the response of the establishment in which I am staying. The Brufani Palace passed with its colours flying proud. First, the lady at Reception was very solicitous, and I always find that a bit of sympathy helps. She would, she assured me, see what could be done. Thus it was that, while I was out looking at exquisite chasubles (of the Roman shape) at the Museo Capitolare, both my mattress and my pillows were magically softened. Thereafter each night I slept, in crisp sheets of finest linen, the sleep of the righteous. 
As you would expect, Perugia is packed with priceless paintings, many of them by the great master, Perugino. Some of the best are so near to the hotel that even my tired legs could reach them without benefit of taxi. But I would urge you to make sure that you go to see one architectural masterpiece of the Renaissance which is a little further away, and for which – given the steep streets – I decided that a car was necessary. The façade of the Oratory of San Bernardino by Agostino di Duccio (1461) is breathtaking in its perfect symmetry. The picture of it I here reproduce does it no justice whatever.
In Italy, grand hotels often use rooms of considerable grandeur for breakfast. This is a practice of which I entirely approve. Thus it was that I broke my fast in Perugia next to columns of red marble and beneath a chandelier of white and gold wood of monumental proportions. I liked not the canned music, but I could usually rely on the waiters to turn off the offending noise. Then it was peace, perfect peace, as I tucked into tasty bacon, Rice Crispies, chunks of pineapple and delicious fruit tarts. The cloths on the large tables were yellow, but each morning mine disappeared under the multitude of dishes I brought from the buffet. (A tip: ask one of the charming waiters – as I did daily – for a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. It will be made from Sicilian blood oranges and will be absolutely delicious.)
The restaurant used for lunch and dinner, called Collins, is the adjacent chamber. This is smaller and brightly lit. The tablecloths are beige, the floor is again covered with antique parquet and another stone fireplace dominates the proceedings. Around this handsome room, excellent and efficient waiters in black aprons (like Nicola Bozzin and Alessio-Stefano Primieri) moved to good purpose. They were orchestrated by a fine maitre d’ from Spoleto, the splendid Antonio Sereni, commanding in his black tie. For my dinner here, as always, I dressed formally. I can never taste food properly after seven in the evening without a starched collar around my neck. And I wanted to taste this food properly, because I had heard good reports of Chef Marco Faiella’s cooking. 
The wine list is essentially Italian, with prices starting at 26 euros for a local white, although there are some tempting champagnes, like 1998 Dom Pérignon (198 euros). Most of the offerings are in the 60-90 euros price range. The ‘super-Tuscans’, of course, cost more, with 2002 Sassicaia at 280 euros and 2000 Ornelliaia at 245 euros. Both my wines were from Umbria. My white, made from the trebbiano grape, was very dry, with suggestions of pistaccio nuts and lychees (Torre di Giano, Vigna il Pino, 2004 – 32 euros). My red, a wine of the modern style, was – after decanting – fat, tannic and full of intense, ripe black fruit (Sagratino, Col Petrone, 2003 – 86 euros). This was good drinking.