It’s rare to taste music. To listen to a dish. To touch a colour, observe a sound, inhale a memory. But when it happens — when the senses blend, overlap, and slip into one another — it’s not just a sum of parts. It’s something higher. Something close to magic. That intoxicating, full-body immersion is precisely what you feel at Mogo, a refined hi-fi bar and dining spot freshly rooted in Milan’s Isola district.
Born of a shared sense of purpose, the project came together through a convergence of minds “moved by a deep humanity, who simply took each other by the hand and moved forward,” says Morris Maramaldi, the eclectic bartender who signs off on several of Mogo’s signatures — and a longtime friend of Marco Sala, founder and ceo of Polifonic, a music brand proudly Made in Italy. Sala, along with general manager Matteo Larghi, placed the stylus gently on the record and set the journey in motion. Also part of the collective score: the creative minds of Burro Studio, chef Yoji Tokuyoshi, and his partner Alice Yamada.
Mogo, a Place for Connection and Gathering
Even the name Mogo nods to its philosophy: derived from “mmogo,” a Sotho word meaning togetherness, union, communion. A concept unpacked from every angle, starting with the design of the space: fluid, inclusive, tactile, open, gentle. A feng shui flow with a Japanese mindset, where matter finds harmony with imagination — concrete and air, wood and light, steel and velvet, raw textiles and washi paper. Hard meets soft, shadow meets shine, whimsy meets geometry. Even the rooftop terrace plays its part in the rhythm.
The Upbeat Mood of the Listening Bar
A floating world, inspired by Japan’s jazz kissa, Mogo carries the design signature of Giorgia Longoni’s studio, blending ethics with aesthetics, multicultural references with a natural tone of voice. The palette moves from terracotta to aquamarine to moss green in a barefoot lounge designed to be inhabited slowly. Site specific tapestries by Andrea Marco Corvino — raised between Bologna and Johannesburg — animate the walls with tribal vibrations.
Tables line the perimeter, a central bar anchors the scene, and the DJ booth emerges like a cameo among shelves of vinyl, a hand-built hi-fi system, and a glowing ceiling that shifts tone as the hours pass — turning amber and orange as evening draws in. That’s when the booth becomes the stage for artists curated by Polifonic and BSR, the music arm of Burro Studio. The soundtrack flows through jazz, soul, ambient, techno, and electro.
The Taste of Sound at Mogo
“We travel a lot,” says Yoji, “and two years ago we felt that listening bars were starting to land in Italy. When the proposal came, we said: perfect.” Known for Bentoteca, Katsusanderia, Pan, Piccolo Pan and Tokyo’s Alter Ego, Yoji designed Mogo’s menu to match the room’s mood: “Dishes that are simple and shareable, meant to be savoured together while the music plays. Things you can eat with fork and knife, or with chopsticks — or your hands. I didn’t want something too Japanese, or too Italian, or too French. I wanted it to cross cultures.
Just like music does.” The ingredients come from trusted suppliers. The breads all arrive daily from Pan. In the kitchen, Simone Montanaro leads the line, bringing dishes like miso- and teriyaki-marinated chicken thighs from the Moncucco farm in Vercelli, chickpea hummus with seasonal vegetables, shokupan focaccia with wasabi and Cetara anchovies, and asparagus with tofu and sesame. Lunch and weekend brunch complete the experience, without disrupting the groove.
Mogo’s Signature Cocktails
“Everything here is meant to invite calm, to create harmony. Even the seats are ergonomic — they hold you, they slow you down,” adds Morris, who was born in Cameroon to a Cameroonian mother and Italo-Martinican father. He studied violin at the Vittadini Conservatory in Pavia before turning to opera singing, and began bartending not in a bar, but in Milan’s club scene — at the iconic Dude.
“For me, every cocktail starts with a title. With a refrain. Only after that comes the recipe.” His most musical creation might be the Tokyo Dub, a drink that aligns flavours along an imagined, near-horizontal axis: sake and tequila, Asia and Central America. Yuzu, mint and beetroot tie it to the land and the Commonwealth. A final mist of bay leaf evokes the scent of dew, of wet earth. “Essential oils are always part of my cocktails — they stir memory,” he says. “For the Martini Black Saffron, I spray cardamom — it’s the spiced touch of a drink inspired by the construction of Milan’s Duomo: charcoal gin for the coal workers, saffron vermouth to recall the cathedral’s golden glasswork.”
A Cocktail for Every Soul
There’s Dark Funk, too — a dark, hypnotic jam of white rum, ginger, licorice and chinotto, ideal after dark. The Hi-Fi Monk plays it contemplative, with matcha-infused vodka and a French herbal liqueur. Noir Interlude leans into its soul — both in spirit and sourness — with absinthe, lime and lavender fernet from the slopes of Mount Lavender in Hokkaido. And Cipango, a poetic nod to Japan, marries bitter orange, a slice of winter pear, and a Japanese amaro. “Music always sounds better when the cocktail is good. And when the cocktail is good, people are more open. More willing to connect.” Morris knows the groove.
The article first appeared on Coqtail – for fine drinkers. Order your copy here
Images courtesy Mogo and Julie Couder x Coqtail -all rights reserved
