I Butteri: Pizza Griglia & Co.

Don't be misled by food fairy tales of overwhelming and life-changing dining experiences in Rome. Like all big cities, Rome, too, has its share of crap.

As I discovered the hard way, it may not be in your best interests to equate restaurant popularity with food quality. Italian schools must teach students that when you copy off others, you are only cheating yourself of a good meal. If only American schools had such applicable lessons and maybe I wouldn't have ended up at the Longhorn Steakhouse of Italy.

Let me be the first to admit that it's no one's fault but my own that I did not immediately question the legitimacy of a grill/pizzeria in Italy with only one pasta dish on the menu: the vegetarian option. I attribute this lapse in judgement to the language barrier.

The vegetarian I dined with clearly had an easy decision to make. Meanwhile, I worked my way through I Butteri's selection of meats, whose praises were being sung all over the front of the menu. From what I could deduce by eyeing other tables, the grilled meats seemed to be served on mini skillets. I was sold.

Asking servers for their menu favorites is completely against my beliefs. I don't approve of friends ever asking for such erroneous and irrelevant information. With that said, the menu had minimal explanation, so I resorted to asking our waiter of his thoughts. This served as his cue to point out the priciest dish on the menu, the lamb chops, which were evidently different than the lamb shank offered at half the price. Thank you for your thoughts Antonio, but I think I'll go with the shank.

As it had been nearly an entire two hours since we last ate (which I believe is considered fasting in Italian culture), we were starving, so we decided to try the "grilled cheese" starter.

Essentially, a mild cheese resembling mozzarella was melted in a miniature baking pan over the grill. When Antonio brought the glob to our table, we had no better idea than to just fork it, which proved to be a complex procedure as the pan was light enough to slide around the table with each stab of the fork but too hot to hold in place. The cheese tasted just as it sounds -- inherently delicious.

As we waited for the main courses to arrive, sizzling skillets with a variety of meats sent smoke signals throughout the restaurant, amping me up for the grill selection I was about to experience. I spotted our server stepping out of the kitchen, and my heart began to beat wildly until I realized that he bore gifts for another table: a dull white plate instead of my sizzling skillet.

He then passed by our table, placing the dull white plate at my seat.
   

Was Antonio mad at me? I had been shanked by the shank. I should have splurged for the lamb chop via skillet. Now, I was stuck with skewered fat trimmings, five potato wedges, and a bowl of lima beans floating in a questionable liquid. The lamb had adhered to the skewers as if by super glue. During the occasional instances when I succeeded in tearing off a Euro-sized piece, I discovered that I was eating fat marbled with meat. The most alarming feature of this dish, aside from the lima bean display, was that, given the dominance of fat on each skewer, the meat was surprisingly dry and flavorless.

If you have only four days in Rome, I suggest you spend your time elsewhere. And if you live in Rome, I suggest you do the same.


PIZZA GRIGLIA & Co. 

Piazza Regina Margherita 28/29 - 06.8548130

Della Palma: Gelato di Roma

Over 100 flavors of gelato are flaunted in a glass case covering over half the perimeter of a room that's about three times the size of an average gelateria -- Baskin Robbins, eat your heart out. 

I stood at the doorway, frozen from sensory overload, devising my plan of attack in this gelato/ candy store that bore a striking resemblance to a Disney World gift shop.

My strategizing failed to get me very far because, after I had finally decided on where to stand in line, it took me ten more minutes to realize that there was, in fact, no line. After a moment of internal panic (and another 10 minutes) I discovered the following: first pay at register, then collect sweet treat. Why is it always the case that it's in critical times such as this that we misunderstand the instructions.

By my calculations, I was now about 30 minutes into my first experience at Della Palma and yet still had no gelato.

Golden ticket in hand (my receipt), I had gained the confidence I needed to approach the hoard of sweet-tooth-driven tourists who crowded the opulent display case. The flavors ranged from the classic stracciatella to some more artfully crafted combinations like this wonderful gelato interpretation of chocolate covered strawberries.

If you remember nothing else about Della Palma, remember this: All's fair in love and war. Be aggressive or forever be senza gelato. You must be willing to force, jab, and kick your way into that mob at all costs. Keep in mind how it is easier to ask forgiveness than permission. Breaststroking your body to the front of the crowd with a simple "scusi" will do.

With the success of acquiring my long-awaited and well-deserved two scoops, I walked out onto the streets of Rome to chow down. I had a difficult time detecting the flavor through the thick cream of the frozen treat -- perhaps because one of the flavors was "crema." I chose "nutella" for my second scoop. Both were so overpoweringly rich in cream that I almost had trouble finishing off my cone.

If you're looking for options -- as well as a moment of heightened blood pressure -- then Della Palma is definitely your scene. Otherwise, I recommend wandering around the streets of this area a little more and finding one of the smaller mom-and-pop gelaterias. 

Because let's be honest -- when in Rome, who needs the stress?

Gelateria Della Palma, Rome

via della Maddalena, 20/23, Rome 00186  

Phone +39 066 880 6752

Hours: Mon. - Sat. 8am-1:30am

Dar Poeta

You will not find true Italian fare at Dar Poeta. This implies an absurd idea that there's an entire country filled with flavors like these, but it's unlikely that anything can parallel the magic coming out of this small kitchen in the Trastevere area of Rome.

Right when I thought that the authentic brick pizza oven with blackened edges and a marble slab entrance couldn't get more stunning, I was shown up by a pot of some melted, creamy nutella concoction in a glass display case.


Taking advantage of the size of our 6-person group, we tried to order as many different items from the menu as possible, starting with the bruschette. For 2 euros each, you can choose your bruschetta or tell your server how many you'd like and have them surprise you. We went for the "mixed" option and ordered 12.

From classic tomato basil to olive tapenade to my personal favorite -- gorgonzola with honey -- Dar Poeta seemed to have all their bases covered, and then some. The overwhelming display of thick slices of toasted bread topped with a variety of colors and textures only cost us 4 euros/person.


A moment of silent gawking is necessary to review through the pizzas.

Lingua De Foco
tomato, mozzarella, piquant salami, chili pepper
7€

Dar Poeta
mozzarella, zucchini, salami, garlic, chili pepper9€

Ruspante
mozzarella, potatoes, mushrooms, cooked ham
9€ 

Funghi
tomato, mozzarella, mushrooms7€

My Plate
priceless

Sinking your teeth into these specialty pizzas was nothing like eating your basic pie. This was an entirely new pizza-dining experience that I couldn't get enough of. Try to guess which plate was mine at the end of the meal:

We ended the night with a large ricotta cheese and nutella calzone (11€), but a smaller version is also available at half the price.

The ricotta was mixed into the nutella, functioning as a thickening agent rather than affecting the flavor. I'm a huge proponent of powdered sugar, but in this case it may have been a little overkill as I accidentally inhaled some on my first bite.

The inside was delicious, but the breading-to-filling ratio seemed a little off: about 3 to 1. Considering how special this chocolate-ricotta combination was, I would have assumed there'd be a greater effort to showcase it, but overall it was a unique treat and a sweet way to end the night.


In sum, Dar Poeta is not your typical pizzeria experience, for it is far too delicious to be considered ordinary. Failing to dip your toe into the Dar Poeta pizza pool would be like committing Roman dining suicide. Here are the numbers you need to know:


Pizzeria Dar Poeta - Vicolo del bologna 45 - P.I. 01642890568 - 00153 Roma - Tel. 06-58.80.516 - E-mail. marco@darpoeta.com

Stella Maris: Ristorante - Pizzeria

About 15 minutes from the center of Rome, a maritime-themed restaurant and pizzeria peaks its ornately decorated head out of the quiet street of Via Nomentana.


I was so thrilled to find a restaurant that was still open after arriving on a late flight that I didn't even notice the beach-inspired paint job and odd assortment of boating trinkets and seascape paintings that lined the walls until my second visit  – yes, I went twice, so prepare yourself.


First, be warned that restaurants in Italy will often bring bread to your table without your requests. Thankful for the treat and starving for true Italian cuisine, you scarf down everything in front of you only to find the bread appear later on in the night, but this time on your bill. Completely unaware that I would be paying for what seemed like a complimentary starter, I quickly finished off the basket of flatbreads brushed with olive oil that the server brought to my table. The dough was soft and warm with a flakey exterior, but I haven't decided if that makes up for the fact that I was duped into paying for it.

I continued my carb adventures when the bruschetta with mozzarella arrived  – this I did order. The most intriguing part of this course was the mozzarella, masquerading around as feta cheese. While still mild, it tasted slightly saltier than most mozzarellas I've tried, but what really set this mozzarella apart from the rest was the texture. The small, moist crumbles were different, fun, and clearly homemade. The thick slice of bread was toasted and crunchy but not crumbly as it maintained a soft center.

The mushroom and sausage pizza was striking against the tablecloth. The sausage also had a very captivating look to it with its surprisingly pink color. The meat was unfortunately a little fatty, but the individual slices had this delicate form that made me feel like I was cradling designer silk. The pizza was light but overflowing with flavors of fresh vegetables, olive oil and mozzarella all melted together and practically dripping off of the oven-crisped bread.


After all of my Italian travels, I had yet to feel sincerely inspired by a pasta dish. Perhaps it’s because I’ve never understood the obsession with pasta al dente (literally translating to “to the tooth”), where pasta is neglected during the boiling process so that the center is left firm.  I’m not advocating overcooked, cafeteria-style noodles that disintegrate as soon as they hit your plate, but I don’t believe that ordering food medium-rare should carry over to your fettuccini order.

The freshly cut seductive slices of perfectly cooked ravioli at Stella Maris actually humbled me. With a velvety tomato sauce gently draped over the large ricotta pillows, this pasta dish was in a league of its own.

Round two of Stella Maris occurred on my last night of Rome and my last night of Italy. I needed to try the one remaining dish that would truly make my mother jealous: beef carpaccio. Carpaccio is typically a dish of thinly sliced meat, topped with some sort of green, usually arugula, and Parmesan cheese. Now, this carpaccio was evidently made with a box of Crayola markers.

My mother practically raised me on raw meats, but I have never seen such exquisite color come from beef. The brilliant dynamic between the vibrant red and the deep green was so stunning I didn't know whether to eat it or frame it.

The light sprinkle of cheese functioned as a simple accessory, and the drizzle of olive oil was probably used to help the leaves maintain their pride, as it was clear that the star of this show was the beef. 

Delicate and moist with fresh flavors and smooth textures, this meat should frighten Kobe beef everywhere.

I don't love Italian food, but Stella Maris was such a special experience that I may reconsider.

Stella Maris

Via Regina Margherita, 225, 00198 Roma, ItalyTel/Fax +39 06 854 0263 ‎email: stellamaris@libero.it