The popular stand by in the North End has a sister at Fan Pier. A fancy-shmancy sister who wears her ethnicity like a little black dress, something familiar and comfortable but that always shows off your best assets. The thick accents are legit, to be sure, and they truly add to the special atmosphere a night on the town deserves.
So why then the ode to the Italian-American stereotype? In the main dining room, along the top of one of the walls are about eight flat screens continuously running famous Hollywood productions such as The Godfather movies and The Sopranos. Silently, but distracting just the same. I happened to be facing that wall, so I may have been especially affected by their presence. I was also facing two gigantic mosaics of the faces of Al Pacino and Robert De Niro, muted colors but… disturbing. Again, given the efforts they made to seemingly employ only waiters and bus boys fresh off the gondola, it’s as if they’ve foiled their own best effort at establishing a legitimate slice of Old Italia.
And yet, that’s about my only criticism.
Let’s start with our waiter, Alberto. He was unaffected, naturally charming and utterly competent. What a sweetheart. Although honestly, toss me a few “bellisima”s, compliment my choices, and you’re pretty much guaranteed your 20%. We were early due to train schedules and guests coming into the city (that’s a big deal for you suburban types, I know), so we received lots of attention at the outset. The crowd skewed older, so Lord Bessie also snagged some undivided attention passing through the bar. In the interest of full disclosure, she had on her funky Juicy boots with the big gold buckles on the heel. They’re hypnotizing.
Eventually, we weren’t the only guests in the main dining room, but to his credit, Alberto’s attention was unflagging. He shared a few stories from his childhood and hometown about “porchetta” and the amazing sandwiches from his youth that he mistakenly agreed to try at 9 am and that ended up repeating on him all day. It sounds a tad gross in review, but somehow when told with that Latin lilt, and punctuated by his warm brown eyes, it was all really endearing.
Anyway, that’s what Lord Bessie got – Thursday’s special, the Porchetta. This is a pork loin stuffed with fontina and Italian ham. She almost licked the plate clean and was the only one without a doggie bag, so you do the math. I got the Parpadelle Funghi Selvatici which was a homemade pasta served with wild mushrooms and black truffle in cream sauce. It. Was. Heavenly. I had had a late lunch, so I couldn’t finish it, but I gotta tell ya, I just had the rest of it for dinner tonight and it was still heavenly. It was perfectly balanced – the sauce not too thick, but delightfully buttery and it clung to the pasta so every bite was the perfect flavor combination. My two other friends got the Pollo Romana and a Salmon special. All I can say about them is that they were enjoyed and lauded, but frankly I only had eyes for my own plate.
So, honestly, if you were hoping for a full review, all I’ve got for you is my mushroom dish and the appetizer Lord Bessie and I shared. That was also terrific. It was a plate of paper thin slices of fresh prosciutto with tomatoes and cream cheese-filled buffalo mozzarella. Who comes up with these things? Cheese filled with cheese. Inspired. We were all pretty full by the end of dinner, so we didn’t really do justice to the dessert menu. However, I can vouch for the coffee… but there’s not a lot to say about it. Rich. Hot. I sucked it down. Done.
Anyhoo, it was a fun night, which is always partially due to the company you keep, but also Strega has a pleasant atmosphere, attentive and conscientious staff and a variety of tasty food with fun foreign names over which your tongue will trip and stumble. Not only do I recommend it, but I’ll be back. The giant floating heads of aging Mafioso types notwithstanding.
No comments:
Post a Comment