Milan Beer Tour - Birrificio Lambrate

Torre Velasca - Milan

A tip off pointed us in the direction of a bar called Birrificio Lambrate in, surprise-surprise, the Lambrate area of the city. On the way, the metro stopped briefly at Piazzale Loreto, infamous as the place where Mussolini and his mistress Clara Petacci's bodies were hung upside-down from a petrol station gantry in 1945 after being shot while trying to flee towards Italy's northern border. The previous year, 15 imprisoned partisans had been shot on that spot in reprisal for Allied bombing and raids by the Resistance. Their bodies had been left as a warning to others by the German command, so I guess this was payback of sorts. We resisted the ghoulish urge to go up and have a look around and instead continued on our journey to the northeast of Milan. Pliny the Elder first mentioned the Lambrate area of Milan in the 1st century BC with reference to a river which flowed here with clear and limpid waters. The name of the area was taken from the river and we certainly hoped that liquid would flow here tonight, but not necessarily clear and limpid.

A short walk from the metro station, past Piazza Gobetii and on an ugly, forgettable side street sat our destination. From the outside it looked closed with low lighting and simple signage. The only clue as to its state of being was the collection of somewhat formidable looking individuals smoking outside the door. We crossed the road and made our way to the front door, squeezing past the smokers who seemed less rough and quite friendly this close up.

The place was packed. Every shape and make of person was in there from young professionals to families and crusty looking hippies. The reason for the crowd, or at least one of the reasons, was the bowls and on the plates at the bar. You see during Happy Hour in certain bars in the city the owners supply free food oat the bar for the clientele to gorge themselves on, as well as reducing the beer prices. There was an amazing spread of food. Pesto pasta, risotto, garlic focaccias (focacce?), crostini, salads, olives and other items too numerous to mention. Perhaps forty dishes in total were being picked at and devoured by all. Everyone seemed to be a local, or they all appeared to know each other at least, as they shouted and gestured across the room. We forced our way carefully to the bar and looked at the list of the beers on offer, which were scratched on a chalkboard overhead.

Birrificio Lambrate was opened in 1996 and was the first craft brewer in Milan. The idea was to open a bar, with beer brewed on site, for people who were a bit sick and tired of the ‘normal’ beers and bars of the city. They began with three different styles and added more every few years. Today they usually have around eight available at any one time, some being seasonal and only available during winter or at other times of the year.

The friendly, affable barman, resplendent with tidy goatee and a selection of tasteful tattoos, gave us the nod and we placed our order for three Ligera. He politely, and rightly, corrected our pronunciation and pulled our pints as the locals at the bar had a laugh at our poor attempts at Italian. We got the feeling that it was only die-hard beer tourists like Pete, Nige and me who took the trek out to here.

As we waited for our beer we took in our surroundings. There was something familiar and comfortable about the place. All the walls were clad in dark timber, which matched the tables, chairs, barstools and the bar itself. The place had a lived-in feel with graffiti covered table tops and low-level lighting. We found a half free table and sat down briefly before returning, one by one, to the bar to pick up some of the tasty morsels on offer. The food was incredibly good, perhaps enhanced by the fact it was free, and we made frequent return journeys until we were full or getting funny looks from the barman. We sat back and relaxed, comfortable in our surrounds and taking in the atmosphere. The beer, Ligera was a beautiful, bitter hoppy number, which had us smacking our lips and grinning from ear to ear. The music playing on the excellent sound system was our kind of tunes. Led Zeppelin was blasting out but even though it was loud it didn't get in the way of our conversation. The bass wasn't overpowering and they seemed to have installed ample speakers throughout the bar. This meant that it wasn't too loud, just loud enough. It was musical engineering perfection.

We quickly drained our glasses and started working through a few more of the house-brewed offerings. Ghisa, a creamy, smoky wonderful stout with a fudgy aftertaste was worth the trip out here alone, perhaps even the trip to Milan itself. Porpora was a malty ale with a sweet, liquorice taste. San Ambrosiana was a dunkleweizen style wheat beer with a blast of cloves to make your eyes water. All were superb. Fresh and tasty from their short trip from the attached brewery and served with a combination of professionalism and friendliness that would put the staff in many brewpubs back home to shame.

We were in heaven and the joint was rocking, The Doors and Gorillaz followed Jimi Hendrix’s guitar solos. Many customers had left when the free food stopped and the place was filling up with a younger Saturday night crowd and a few older customers here for a proper meal. We had gorged ourselves on food and beer at this stage so we had no room to try the food offered from the kitchen, which was attached to the bar. Anything we saw heading for the dining tables looked wholesome and tasty, with empty plates always heading back in the opposite direction.

Ozzie was shouting out 'Finished with my woman' to a pounding bass line as Pete made his way to the bar for the next round of drinks and came back beaming. 'These are on the house,' he said, 'I think yer man behind the bar appreciates us making the trip out here, and how much we like the place and the beer. He says this is a new brew but I didn't catch its name.' We looked to the bar and raised our glasses to him. He smiled back before returning his attention to the beer and his other customers. The beer was a little like Ligera but more bitter and with a citrus-like taste, like a shot of grapefruit juice had been added. I was another winner certainly.

The place is really rocking now with a wonderful buzz and 'Rock the Casbah' is playing. This surely must be one of the best bars in Milan. No Italy. No Europe, we decided. It shows up the inadequacies of other places, and the importance of finding the right balance or food, drink and atmosphere. This lively, almost visceral, bar on a nondescript side street in an ordinary part of the city had got everything right tonight. And as The Beastie Boys belted out 'Sabotage', we drank our last beer, Monstella, a pilsner style beer that would have the Americans, Germans and Czechs ringing their hands with worry if it was ever unleashed on the world market. Then we headed towards the door to catch the last metro back into our hotel in the city centre, pausing at the bar to say our goodbyes and getting a cool, thumb grip handshake from the barman. With the appropriate strains of 'I just can't get enough' resonating out the door and following us up the street, we cursed the fact that the place was so far from our base and that the Metro didn't run later.

Maybe it was a blessing really as we probably would never have left the place, we'd still be there today.

Liam K

[From a visit in 2009 and a shelved book on European beer travel - Edited March 2026]

Apologies for poor photos.