Casa Vermouth — Via Cesare Battisti 9
There is no lobby and no corridor of numbered doors. There is a brass key, a staircase worn smooth by a century and a half of footsteps, and at the top — a door that opens onto a world of marble, velvet, and gold. What follows is a walk through it, room by room.
The Arrival
The key turns with a weight you don't find anymore. Behind you, the murmur of the Galleria; ahead, a hush of dark green and brass. The entrance is small on purpose — a breath held before the reveal — so that the first step into the salon lands like a curtain rising.
The Key Cut once, carried by one guest at a time.
From the design notebook — the entrance, first study.
The Day Side
This is where the house earns its name. Velvet the colour of a deep forest, brass that catches the afternoon, and — behind two lacquered doors — the private Vermouth Bar, stocked and waiting. Beyond the windows, Palazzo Carignano holds the light until evening, and the rooftops of Turin do the rest.
The bar cabinet, drawn before it was built.
The Vermouth Bar For guests only — the ritual Turin gave to the world, served at home.
In the Salon
The Night Side
At night the Galleria goes quiet below, and the bedroom becomes the stillest place in the centre of Turin. A king bed dressed in crisp linen, lamplight the colour of amber, and geometry on the walls that asks nothing of you except to sleep well — deeply, and a little later than planned.
The Linens Chosen the way you choose a wine — by touch, and by how it ends the evening.
The headboard — Déco lines, softened for the night.
In the Bedroom
The Ritual
Marble underfoot, brass at your fingertips, and a rain shower generous enough to make you reconsider your plans for the morning. The bath was designed like the rest of the house — not as a service room, but as a place where you would happily linger.
The vanity — a mirror worthy of the twenties.
The Finishes Brass and marble — materials that improve with every hand that touches them.
A room can be photographed. A stay can only be told. Here is one day, hour by hour.
You let yourself in — no desk, no queue, no small talk. The house is cool and quiet, the shutters half open, a welcome waiting on the marble. The city hums somewhere below.
The cabinet opens. Ice, a twist of orange, a pour of Vermouth della Casa. Across the square, Palazzo Carignano turns gold, and for half an hour Turin performs entirely for you.
The Galleria has gone to sleep. In the bedroom, only lamplight and linen. The kind of silence that makes you realise how rarely you hear it.
Light climbs the rooftops and slides into the salon. Coffee, an open window, the first trams. The Egyptian Museum is two minutes away — but there is no hurry. Nothing here ever hurries.
Luxury here is not a logo on a bathrobe. It is what your hand finds when it reaches out — and what it remembers afterwards.
Casa Vermouth
Casa Vermouth is not a hotel with many rooms. It is one apartment, designed once, kept for one guest at a time. When you hold the key, there is nothing to share: the salon is yours, the bar is yours, the silence is yours. That is the arithmetic behind the price — and it is also why the dates go quickly.
Some stays you book. This one, you join.
One apartment in the heart of Turin, and only so many nights in a year. Choose yours before someone else does.
One suite · Galleria Subalpina · Torino