Seasonal Grub at Italia Trattoria
3 Men and Neighborhood Italian
The Mission Bistro 2002 E. Mission Ave. 954-0756
It’s not the loveliest intersection:
a Hai’s Mini Market, a Tesoro gas
station and … Cassano’s, the Italian
grocery that houses the Mission
Bistro. Strange. Nonetheless, walking
through the door is like taking a step
across the Atlantic Ocean, right on
to the boot of Repubblica Italiana.
Pasta, olive oil and Italian foodstuffs
galore await, but it’s the bistro in
the rear that beckons. Somehow, it
feels Italian here. Whether it’s the
string of lights encircling the dining
room, the green plastic covering the
tables or the half—vases supporting
fake plants on the walls, I couldn’t
tell you. (ND)
Seven-Layer Lasagna ($11)
There are the Seven Deadly Sins, the
seven terraces on Dante’s Purgatory
and, of course, the men of The
Magnificent Seven. But seven-layer
lasagna? Count me in. With alternating
layers of pasta, basil pesto, provolone
and marinara, this one-pound beast is
a mouthful. As the golden brick melts
away from the pasta bowl’s center,
its colors gradually fade down the
spectrum from a rich yellow to deep
red. It’s a comforting dish, heavy and
opulent, but it lacks nuance. There are
no delicate flavors here, and the pesto
is overpowered. Much like me, after I
ate the entire thing. (ND)
Pan-Seared Almond Salad ($12)
Our waitress was attentive but not
overbearing, greeting us with warm
sourdough rolls with dipping sauce.
So far, so good. I went with the salmon
salad, which seemed a little out of
place on the menu, but I welcomed the
sight of it. The dish arrived promptly
and slapped me in the face with vivid
colors and perfect presentation. The
fish was crispy on the outside and pink
and flaky inside — which was brought
in balance with the balsamic citrus
dressing. It was nicely complemented
by feta and pecans. In the end, there
was just enough dressing to sop up
with another warm sourdough roll. (CB)
Stromboli ($9)
Before the main course arrived, I
chowed down on the accompanying
house salad, ordered with the house
Italian dressing made with tarragon
vinegar. Already a great start (at a
pretty great price). The stromboli
itself came out golden brown, with
a chewy crust. Inside was a mix
of ground beef, Italian sausage,
provolone cheese and ham. It was all
very comforting on an early fall day,
but for my taste, I would have liked
a bit more seasoning on the beef, or
a bit more cheese, or perhaps both.
Still, with good prices, swift service
and a full stomach, there was little to
complain about. (JF)
Ferrante’s Marketplace Café 4516 S. Regal St. 443-6304
Driving by on Regal, you might miss
Ferrante’s, which is located in a small
shopping plaza. But once inside,
you’re struck by a comforting dining
room, with a wine shop (at reasonable
prices) and a cafeteria, where you
place your order. It seems like a good
spot to take a first date: fancy enough,
but casual and unpretentious. If the
weather’s nice, grab a seat outside
— the view isn’t spectacular (really,
just a parking lot and the buzzing
traffic on Regal), but somehow, with
a glass of wine in front of you, you can
imagine for a moment you’re sitting
in an Italian plaza. (ND)
Patio Pizza ($15)
Most of the molecules in my body
were built from pizza. I’ve stuffed
my piehole from San Francisco to
New York City. Whatever my faults,
I know my pizza. So I was excited
to see this pizza on the menu — a
crispy mozzarella and feta cheese
pizza covered in fresh baby arugula
and cherry tomatoes, with a side
of balsamic vinaigrette. Oh, yes,
please, thank you. Unfortunately, the
peppery green arugula was scant, the
abundant cheese was stringy and the
vinaigrette was mainly oil. The crust,
however, was a perfect combination
of crunch and suppleness. (ND)
Panini ($9)
It seemed a little strange, placing the
order cafeteria-style, and my panini
didn’t knock me over when it arrived.
The salad was lacking color and flavor,
while the insides of my sandwich —
sun-dried tomato, mozzarella and
creamy pesto — were hard to find as
well. I mostly tasted crusty bread
and thought for a moment that I
was eating a hand-held calzone. Still,
with a glass of wine, a patio and a
good company, it all seemed to come
together. (CB)
Peas & Bacon Gnochetti ($13)
It’s been said throughout history
that everything’s better with bacon,
and it’s true. Based on the cashier’s
recommendation , I order the
gnochetti — basically, small pasta
shells with ridges on the outside —
which arrives in a light garlic cream
sauce with peas, hearty chunks of
bacon and two slices of hearty herb
bread. The bacon gives a saltiness to
the otherwise subtle dish of tender
pasta and lightly seasoned sauce. It
was a comforting meal, but next time
I plan to try out the spicy chicken
Italiano, with seared chicken breast
in a fired tomato sauce with capers
and jalapenos. Yum. (JF)
Dining Out 2010
Get a chef to confide in you*, and one of two things will happen. If that chef is passionate about her work but works for someone else, she will undoubtedly talk about the frustrations and constraints of working around customers’ whims — or, maybe worse, an owner’s perception of a customer’s whims. She’ll talk about wanting to be free to make her art on her own terms — to open a restaurant that is only hers, and to make the food she loves making, regardless of who comes in the door.
Now get a chef who is also a restaurant owner to confide in you. She might complain about many things — payroll, a ruined panna cotta, an inexplicable kale shortage — but she won’t complain about feeling boxed in. At worst, she’ll feel misunderstood. But feeling misunderstood is a trait of all artists, isn’t it?
The chefs in Dining Out 2010 belong to that latter category. They have taken on tremendous personal and professional risk in the hope of reaping the tremendous reward of both freedom and success at the thing they love most. Their food and their stories inspire us. We hope they inspire you, too.
— Luke Baumgarten, Section Editor
* This may take a drink or two, and you may have to do some confiding yourself.
