Piedmont: gourmet treats and challenging pistes

An array of delicious food and skiing opportunities await in the Italian region of Piedmont, writes Mike North

Sparkling slopes: Piedmont by night (Mike North)

The cable car is filled to the gunwales. There must be 200 people in it at least. And I am slightly alarmed. Everyone has good kit – racer goggles in luminous hues, crash helmets and rucksacks with ABS written on the side. That's right, ABS. Airbags. They save your life in an avalanche. I shrink into my Asda skisuit, and hide behind duty-free shades.

Of course it's a warning of things to come, not just evidence that the equipment has changed since I last skied, 10 years ago. Alagna Valsesia is not for beginners, or the faint-hearted. A huge sign at the cable car's destination (2,971m) announces Freeride Paradise. Alagna, a bit like Chamonix, was always more of an off-piste playground for experienced skiers who wanted to get away from slopes packed with wobbly traversers, to challenge themselves on steep, deep and unpredictable white stuff.

You don't pass bad skiers in Alagna. You will not get wiped out by a "Nevica Nigel" – all fluorescent gaudiness and ungainly limbs. It'll be the smooth swoosh of parallel perfection that will leave you in its wake.

At the end of two days on a fraction of the 180km of ski runs that constitutes the Monterosa district, to which Alagna links, I felt humbled and exhausted.

Alagna is a pretty village in Piedmont, a region best known for its noble flavours – barolo, barbaresco and moscato wine, as well as white truffles – but perhaps less so for its skiing. It's tucked in a steep-sided valley in the shadow of a massif of 4,000m-plus peaks, the majestic Matterhorn – which will celebrate 150 years since its first ascent next year – among them. On crystal-clear nights, with the peaks defined by the moon and stars, the place takes your breath away.

The region's pretty peaks (Mike North)

The village surrounds a church and has an ancient feel to it despite its newer accommodation blocks. There's a sense that it has been hewn out of the mountainside, with natural stone and wood in abundance – a far cry from some of the Alps' concrete monstrosities that make you wonder why anyone allowed utilitarian modernist architects to run amok in such pristine environments.

The village is also refreshingly free from music-pumping bars. Instead skiers, with muscles aching from the demands of the slopes, relax in cosy wood-panelled inns and enjoy the heady local concoctions – wines such as Gattinara that pack a punch, or the potent mountain grappas. Just watch your head if you intend to ski hard the next day.

Unsurprisingly, the food is varied and good – rich sauces, meat to the fore and venison on every menu. Montagna di Luce, a short, chilly walk from the centre of the village, is a real treat. A restored 100-plus year old lodge in the Walser style of the region – 3m-thick stone walls, tree trunks for beams – its ground-floor dining room in the old cow stalls had real ambience. The rich, creamy venison ravioli anti-pasti followed by a substantial meat main course was all I could manage. The owner, Madame Gabbio, proudly showed me some of the bedrooms upstairs, the wallpaper hand-painted by her husband to give a each room a different seasonal theme.

All this was a welcome distraction after the extreme physical rigours of the main event. From the village it is hard to imagine the extent of the skiing area. It stretches across three valleys – those of Alagna, Gressoney and Champoluc – offering 180km of runs, and as many off-piste areas as you can shake a ski stick at. There is talk of linking the area to Cervinia and Zermatt, but if that happens, don't get stuck in Switzerland at the end of the day – the taxi ride back will cost more than your flights.

My ski instructor Emmanuele guided me across the Freeride dreamscape in brilliant sunshine. We ate a hearty lunch in an outdoor fridge, chomping on al dente spaghetti bolognese, brainfreezing with local lager. By the day's end, with thighs screaming for it just to stop but head willing "just one more run", we descended yet another black, then a red down into Alagna, the latter steep and icy at the day's end.

Day two saw the resort in very different conditions: temperatures around freezing, foggy and whited out at times, little wind and 50cm of snowfall, a veritable dump. I had intended to ski off-piste, to which end my mountain guide, Christiane Gobbi, had fitted me out with an avalanche transceiver, probes and shovels. But no ABS. Happily, it was unnecessary. I never deviated from the piste which had so much snow that often I couldn't see my skis.

The most striking sensation was that of skiing on vacant pistes – the Italians, rather like the French, rarely venture out in white-outs – and watching the snow tumble down in muffled silence on empty tree-lined slopes. They were rare moments of serenity.

Alagna tests your mettle and muscle, and gets under your skin. From the savage beauty of the environment to the welcoming bars and its old-world courtesy, it's an Alpine Brigadoon, and a place I'll dream of returning to.

Getting there

Mike North was a guest of Piedmont Tourism Promotion (centroestero.org). The closest airport is Turin, served by Ryanair (0871 246 0000; ryanair.com) from Stansted; British Airways (0844 493 0787; ba.com) and easyJet (0843 104 5000; easyJet.com) from Gatwick; and Jet2 (0800 408 1350 ; jet2.com) from Manchester.

Staying there

Hotel Cristallo (00 39 348 987 8245; hotelcristalloalagna.com) has double rooms from €119, half board.

Eating and drinking there

Hotel Unione Molliese (00 39 0163 737787; unionemolliese.it).

Montagna di Luce (00 39 0163 922820; montagnadiluce.it).

More information

alagna.it

piemonteitalia.eu