Having been raised on home-cooked Italian meals, my food snobbery is at its worst when I am dining out at an "Italian" restaurant. I have been to countless places where the chefs decide that Prego sauce and bread from Shaws will be overlooked by patrons who are wowed by fancy-sounding dishes such as "Rigatoni Abruzzi" or "Mozzerella Fritta" (thank you to the Bertucci's website for providing examples).
It takes more than pasta and sauce and olive oil to call yourself a good Italian restaurant. Even in Little Italy in New York (which is now better known as Chinatown) or the North End in Boston (a little closer to real Italian food, but only at certain places), the vast majority of restaurants take an extremely lazy approach to crafting their style, simply mirroring their neighbors to fend off competition in the neighborhood.
I am happy to report that I dined at an Italian restaurant in Arlington, MA on Saturday eve that scored at least in the 85th percentile, as far as Italian restaurants go. Ristorante Olivio on Mass Ave was delectable, from the house appetizer to the boisterous ambiance to the very light dessert selection.
A truly authentic Italian meal starts from the minute the customer is seated and the bread comes out. As I noted above, the bread should be of higher quality than your average grocery store loaf; a nice oven-cooked crispy loaf is always appreciated. More important than the bread itself, however, is what is presented to DIP the bread in: in Italy, there is always a bottle of olive oil sitting on the table, like A1 sauce lives on tables at steakhouses in the U.S. Good extra-virgin olive oil, pecorino romano cheese, grated black pepper, and a little parsley is the winning combination for a bread dip. Olivio neglected to offer cheese and herbs, but everything else was perfect.
Our waiter, Giuseppe (seems a bit far-fetched that that's his real name, but I'll let that one go), was a pleasure to spend an evening with. It certainly helped that I went out to eat with my Italian father, who can't help but befriend everyone in his path, especially if they have any connection to his love, Italy. Giuseppe and my father Joey bonded over everything from their shared first name to the difficulty of raising daughters. This rapport certainly helped us get some of the best service I've had, including the recommendation to try the lamb meatball appetizer. Again, having grown up with meatballs straight from the Naples family recipe book, I have extremely high standards in terms of sauce ("gravy" as my Nana insisted on calling it) as well as meatballs. Both were divine at Olivio.
Entrees were light, another staple of true Italian cooking. These family-style dinners that chains such as Olive Garden promote to the masses simply cater to the greedy American mindset that more is always better. No wonder we are fighting the highest levels of obesity in our history. What people do not realize until it's too late is that if you eat slowly, you don't need the family-size portion - you'll find that fullness is achieved after a fist-size portion of meat, one of grains, and a vegetable on the side.
My sister ordered the winning entree: Bocconcini di Vitello, or veal rolled with pancetta, spinach, fontina, and romano, red wine reduction and served with mushroom risotto. The flavor was rich but not overwhelming. I ordered the simpler Pollo alla Vincenzo, which is roasted free range chicken with fresh vegetables in a garlic, lemon and splash of white wine sauce. My father opted for the classic Linguine Fra Diavolo, with linguine, shrimp and calamari, with a spicy tomato sauce.
Sweet tooths run in my family, so we always order one dessert per person to try as many as possible. My father, of course being the most senior of the three of us, was allowed to stay with his classic Tiramisu. It is served in a martini class - always a nice touch. This particular version was high in liqueur content, but comparably quite light. My sister again chose the winning dessert, the Panna Cotta di Cioccolatto, consisting of chocolate panna cotta, fresh whipped cream and toasted hazelnuts. It was quite small, but extremely memorable in its taste and originality. I ordered coconut sorbet served in a coconut shell to cleanse our palettes.
Sometimes you have to trek off the beaten path a bit to experience real, authentic cuisine.
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