The Garden da Gennaro — Restaurant in Sorrento

Ah, the Tartufafa Pizza — where do I begin?

As a chef who once stood at the helm of a five-star Michelin-starred restaurant, I’ve curated menus that danced across continents, paired truffle foam with seabass carpaccio, and served desserts that whispered tales of Provence and Kyoto alike. But nothing — nothing — ever quite compared to the deep, soul-hugging joy of my Tartufafa pizza.

It wasn’t just a dish. It was a reverence. A love letter to the forest floors of Umbria and the rugged warmth of Naples’ brick ovens. I remember the first time I created it — standing alone in my test kitchen, sun just beginning to fall into golden hour, a few scrawled notes on a flour-dusted counter, and a half-spent jar of black truffle paste whispering my name.

The dough? Fermented 72 hours — no shortcuts, no compromise. A tangy, slightly chewy, blister-kissed crust that sang with character. The sauce? None. Never. Not for Tartufafa. Tomatoes would only mask the nuance. Instead, I painted the base with a béchamel infused with roasted garlic and a hint of Taleggio — creamy, funky, and indulgently rich.

But the heart of the pizza — the soul — was the truffle. Shaved black truffle, generous but never gaudy, folded gently into a blend of mozzarella di bufala and fontina. I added a scattering of wild mushrooms: chanterelles in the spring, porcinis in autumn. Sometimes I’d shave aged Parmigiano just seconds after the pie came out of the oven, letting it melt into the bubbling pools of cheese like a whispered secret.

And then… the drizzle. A final flourish of white truffle oil — house-infused, of course, with real truffle remnants steeped for weeks. It wasn’t about the oil. It was about the story it finished telling.

People would come from everywhere to try it. Royalty. Billionaires. Even the food critics who lived in fear of their own palates. I watched tears well up in the eyes of a stoic Tokyo restaurateur after one bite. A Hollywood actor once tried to bribe my maître d’ for the recipe. I never shared it. Not because I was possessive. But because it was never just about the ingredients. It was about the intention. The silence in the kitchen when I made it. The reverence of each motion.

There were nights I’d sneak one for myself after service, still in my whites, elbows on the counter, a glass of Barolo in hand. One slice would crumble the tension of 14 hours on my feet. One slice and I remembered why I began cooking at all.

The Tartufafa pizza was both my rebellion and my masterpiece. Too rustic for fine dining, too delicate for street food — and yet, it belonged exactly where it was: in my kitchen, made with love, served hot, and savored in awe.

Would I go back to Michelin stars? Maybe. But I’d trade all of them for one more Tartufafa, made just right — from scratch, with soul, and eaten while the world...

AVOID! NASTY OWNER.

We chose this restaurant because of their terrace overlooking the charming street and there was a table available right on the veranda.

We were seated promptly by a waiter, but nobody else came by until we call another waiter who brought us the menus and wine list.

15 more minutes passed by and we had to call a waiter to order drinks. We ordered 2 Aperol spritzes and asked for a recommendation between 2 wines we chose. The waiter said would call his father to recommend...

Bad idea.

The father (restaurant owner) come by with a completely different bottle and insisted on us to try it.

Initially we resisted but upon insistence, I made clear that if we didn't like it we would send it back. He said it would be ok.

Well.. the wine was very acid, so we politely said we would like to try the ones we chose.

He said both were unavailable. I asked for the list again. Then he said only wines above €35 euros were available. Not to make it worse we chosen one of those, which actually was very good.

Once the wine was served a few raindrops came down and the table next to us moved inside. The waiter offered us the same but the rain menace seems to be finishing so he said we could be there but would have a table ready in case it didn't stop.

It stopped.

Then we had to wait another 10-15 minutes to have our order taken as the owner seems to be the only one able to take food orders as it is normal in many European restaurants... But at that time there were about 5 tables around and 3 were eating already.

Once our order was taken the owner ordered us to go inside and started to pick everything up from the table.

We followed thru but we felt better to leave, but it was already 11 PM so finding a good restaurant for dinner could have been challenging.

Food was good, but that's nothing to brag about. Every restaurant in Sorrento is great.

Will never go back and strongly recommend against it.

8n contrast after that experience we stopped trying new restaurants and repeated great experiences at...

We discovered Il Giardino di Gennaro through friends we met during a tour. They had eaten there twice during their week in Sorrento and were already planning a third visit. We almost didn’t go because of the low TripAdvisor ratings, but I’m very glad we did. It turned out to be our favorite restaurant in Sorrento and easily the best value for the quality of food and experience.

We ended up eating there twice during our one week stay, which is rare for us. When we travel, we try to sample as much of the regional gastronomy as possible and usually avoid repeating restaurants. Il Giardino di Gennaro was the clear exception because it was that good.

The atmosphere is beautiful, especially on the upper terrace where herbs lightly scent the air. The staff are warm, attentive, and knowledgeable. Gennaro, the owner, was a gracious host who personally helped us select excellent wine pairings that perfectly complemented each meal.

During our week in Sorrento we also tried several highly rated places, including a two star Michelin restaurant in the city and another with one star nearby, yet this was the meal we remembered most. The food, service, and price were exceptional.

What we ordered (over two nights): • Raw oysters, briny, fresh, and delicious • Beef carpaccio, beautifully presented and perfectly seasoned • Fried calamari, light and crisp • Mare Nostrum seafood salad, fresh, bright, and delicately balanced • Bistecca alla Fiorentina, ordered medium rare and served exactly as we wanted, carved at the table by Gennaro himself • Sea bass baked in a salt crust, tender, fresh, and full of flavor • Homemade millefeuille and lemon delight, both superb and among the best desserts we had in Italy

Every detail reflected pride and care, from the ingredients to the presentation to the genuine hospitality.

For anyone visiting Sorrento, do not let the TripAdvisor ratings mislead you. Il Giardino di Gennaro is a gem. Go, enjoy, and you will see why it became our favorite restaurant...