Rome II

Better late than never...

After a sweaty morning at the Vatican, swing by the Pantheon to cool yourself down and get a little jolt with a granita from Tazza D'Oro. Sweetened espresso, frozen and agitated periodically so that little chards of crystalline ice form. Not like a snow cone or a slushy though, much much more delicate.

There's no need for crunching through uneven granules, nor does it just melt away as soon as it hits your mouth. Get it topped with plain whipped cream, which offers a smooth cushion for the ice as you roll it around in your mouth and it all melds and slowly melts away, with just some sweetness and coffee bean bitterness lingering.

Another suggestion is to avail yourself of the many culinary treats of Roman Jewish tradition. If you're in and around the ancient forum and anwhere between it and the Tiber, you'll likely see signs for the Ghetto. Once a large section of the city marked out as the only area where Jews were allowed to live, it has remained intact for centuries despite shrinking to a couple piazzas and sidestreets. It is a very charming little sector now, with some of the most tranquil and quaint outdoor dining in the city, tucked just past the Teatro di Marcello and the Porto di Ottavio.

On one hand it's mere existence is a reminder of intolerance and oppression, on another it's fascinating to see that there are still kosher restaurants in this area and that the culture lives on. As for the food, things like baccala and whole artichokes fried in olive oil, pasta with pecorino and pepper, fish with raisins and pine nuts owe their identity to the jewish population of the city. They are as symbolic to all Romans as pasta alla carbonara or gnocchi alla Romana.

Antica Taverna del Ghetto - I've never been, but this is the quintessential ghetto restaurant (I mean that in a good way). Had we had more time or thought the time in Rome out differently we might have eaten here. May seem a little cheesy from the website but they do all the classics as well as some dishes that are typically non-kosher with kosher substitutes. A good opportunity to sit outside on the quiet street as well.

Sora Margherita - Actually not a restaurant but an "eating club". Because it's cramped and a fire hazard, to avoid zoning regulations they have you sign up to join their club when you walk through the doorless entry (just dangling beads), and then they serve up menus on construction paper. Nicole and I didn't eat here this time, but I've been before. If you want a nice bowl of pasta with ricotta and pepper or cacio cheese and pepper, some fried vegetables (get the artichoke!), ignore the lack of decor and go in for lunch.

Pompiere - Old school. A couple blocks from the ghetto, big backlight sign on an otherwise dark and nondescript sidestreet. You open the door on the first floor and there's no indication it's even a restaurant. You walk upstairs though and the vest-wearing waitstaff greet you and usher you to a table in the spacious dining room with vaulted ceiling and lots of dark wood. Tables and wine glasses are small, tablecloths and napkins all one tone.

I wasn't sure if Nicole thought I was crazy for bringing her to an old timers place like this, but I think she knew it was here or a frustrating walk in search of an establishment I deemed acceptible, which could take hours. Not that it was dingy, just very different than the young, happening kind of places we were more inclined to visit. We sat next to a cute italian couple enjoying a quiet meal, with a group of several americans having a birthday party for one of their kids behind us. Soon after we sat down the lights went off and I thought "oh man, seriously?", but it was just the waitstaff bringing the cake out for the birthday girl. We're not so far away from home afterall.

We didn't even really need to look at the menu--we were both thinking pasta. Nicole surprised me with gnocchi in truffle sauce, a bit bold, but she has a soft spot for that combo. She also got some arancini (suppli in local parlance) to round it out for an app. I went for the fried artichoke and the carbonara.

We ordered a nice bottle of Montepulciano d'Abruzzo, served in little glasses, and spoke quietly to each other to maintain the median decibel level. The antipasti were served up quickly, hot out of the fryer. Both were very satisfying; we devoured the artichoke and worked on the piping hot arancini filled with peas and little bits of ham and held together by melty cheese. Neither was a revelation, but each was the kind of thing you could come back for time and time again. The plates were simple, unadorned but for the one item requested.

As two more italians sat down next to us and tucked napkins into their collars, the pasta came. I could smell the aroma of Nicole's truffles, but in front of me was the plate of spaghetti gilded with egg yolk sauce and a curiously conservative amount of black pepper. I dove right in and it didn't disappoint; abundantly salty from the generous amount of pecorino mixed in with the egg yolks, spiked with cripsee then chewy bits of guanciale. The dressing coated the strands of pasta and only left a tiny bit of residue in the bottom of the bowl. Nice job. Nicole scolded me for hunching over with my forearm permantly resting on the table shoveling the pasta in. I didn't think any of the other patrons would think anything of it.

Her gnocchi were light little pillows of potato, perhaps dressed a little too liberally with sauce. My tastebuds had already been done in by the salinity of my dish, so aside from the nice texture and easily discernable black truffle I couldn't get much out of it. Even without much flour to gum them up gnocchi are filling, and the pungent truffles add richness that prevent me from eating too much.

Nicole opted out of dessert and I had a lemon sorbetto which was quite runny but refreshing nonetheless.

You can tell this place had seen better days, perhaps thirty years or so ago being one of the standard bearers of this city for locals and savvy tourists alike. But the homey food and starkness by today's standards are kind of nice novelties, priced accordingly. If only it were on a more happening street and had tables outside. Bring a bunch of people though and you create the atmosphere. Or eat and then go a couple blocks to Campo dei Fiori, grab a drink and people watch.

www.alpompiereroma.com

Al Bric - Our last night in Rome and we decided on another wine bar in the Campo dei Fiori

neighborhood. This place is known for an expansive list of international bottles, but who are we kidding, we have no reason to drink anything other than the italian labels. We thought they might include lots of wines by the glass, something that is an established facet of wine bars in the States, but in reality not many places were structured like that in our travels.

We shot for eight o'clock dinner and were surprised to find it was quiet on a Thursday. As we sat down we noticed the nice arrangment of cheeses in the window and how many a passer-by stopped to take note before continuing on. No worries for us though, it wasn't displayed on plates with fake veggies or anything.
Al Bric is pretty small, split into a couple dining rooms with the branded sides of wine crates hung on the walls. Unlike at Cul de Sac a couple days earlier, we decided against small plates and both ordered pasta, with a plate of fritto misto to share first.

Doesn't take much to have swift service when only a couple tables are occupied, but the owner himself presided over much of the wine opening and decanting, and tasted ours himself rather than putting that responsibility on one of us. We ordered a bottle of Jermann "Vintage Tunina", a white from one of the Friuli's most heralded producers, particularly of whites.

It was a nice choice just to drink, but it certainly stood up to the mix of fried vegetables we had to start with. They were hot and still pretty crisp, fried in just flour. Needed some extra salt.

On the one hand we had an intimate setting where we could easily hear each other speak, but at the same time it might have been a little too subdued and as if the party were elsewhere. We were surprised this place would be almost empty when down the road a little in Piazza Navona I'm sure they were packing them in.

I saw Bucatini all' Amatriciana (long hollow noodles with a sauce of tomato and guanciale, some hot pepper) on the menu and I had to go for it, while Nicole was lured by lobster to accompany her paccheri (think rigatoni but thicker, larger in diameter and without ridges). Again, mine won the salt contest, not surprisingly, and the bucatini were a treat; since they're hollow, they're probably twice the diameter of normal spaghetti, adding so much more to chew on. The sauce is simple, quickly cooked and zesty. Nicole's paccheri were good (my favorite dried pasta) but they make you work a little by presenting the seafood in the shell. Overall I thought hers was a pretty good dish but not particularly memorable.

We finished our meal in pretty light fashion and passed on dessert. We were both satisfied but looking to take a stroll and grab a beer in Campo dei Fiori. Al Bric is probably a little more refined than Cul de Sac as far as a wine bar, but it lacks the outdoor seating of its counterpart, which can add a lot if there's not much atmosphere otherwise. We did small plates at one and more typical at the other, so it's a bit difficult to compare the two.

www.albric.it

Closing Thoughts on This Rome Trip:

We chose wisely on the hotel by staying at the Fortyseven. We describe its location to people as "around the corner from the Wedding Cake". From the big monument it's about a five minute walk and a block in from the Tiber. Except when we took a city bus to the Vatican, we were able to walk to everything, including Trastevere which is right across the river from its address at #47 Via Luigi Petroselli.

Fortyseven is a boutique hotel, modern/art deco decor, seemingly small but with all the amenities we've come to expect and a pleasant staff. I don't believe in the sentiment that a hotel is just to sleep in and any deficiencies can be overlooked for that reason. I have to feel comfortable walking around barefoot in the room and know there's a good breakfast waiting for me in the morning. It helps when they can make a decent cappuccino too. Although if you're up for it, wait and grab one at a bar a little later at least once. The thing we enjoyed most though was the rooftop bar; being able to have drinks at sunset or after we'd come home from dinner any given night. Not all that common in Rome. And the location lends itself to a nice view of a park across the street, the river and beyond that St. Peter's. I'd choose it again.

We left Rome feeling as though we could have eaten better had we sacrificed more to eat the best of what the city has to offer for foodies. By sacrifice I mean going further afield to more "Roman" and less familiar areas, making it more of a mission to eat well. But eating was only part of the reason we were there, competing for time with sightseeing and relaxation. To seek out the places, to get to one nieghborhood when you're sightseeing in another and starving, requires planning beyond what we were willing to do this trip, which is ok. I've talked about it before so we both knew that going to Rome doesn't = awesome food at every meal without some legwork. And I think that bit of misgiving over what could have been just leaves the door open for a return.

The eternal city was sunny as I always remember it, full of vivacity, big crowds and busy streets. Manhattan is bustling but Rome is frenetic. I think of it as the center of the country to come back to after you've ventured out in all directions. And it's big enough that you could go back over and over and discover totally new things. We started our trip there and never returned, but no matter how many times I go I can always go back and just appreciate being in the city without an itinerary. Nicole appreciated just being there as well, but while she found Rome profoundly interesting, she admitted it was sort of overwhelming. Being used to American big cities, going to a place where people drive with only 2/3 regard for motor vehicle laws and cruise ship size tour groups are competing with you for space, you get that "aren't you glad you use Dial?" feeling sometimes. Even though there's something to be said for experiencing the diversity in aroma and intensity of others' stenches, especially when it's that cumulative kind built on days of not bathing.

Next stop Toscana for something completely different!

Some places on our Rome list that we didn't get to this time that I recommend trying:

Open Colonna

Glass Hostaria

Paris

Il San Lorenzo

Roscioli

Sometimes I like It Greek Style

Mark Bittman, aka The Minimalist conjured up the recipe that formed basis for my spin in his column in the New York Times back June 24th, 2009 entitled "Nachos by Way Of Greece".

The first time I made it I pretty much copied his recipe, but I find the Greekness is suited to audibles on the herbs and spices, or variations on tzatziki and different meats. This most recent time I had dill in the cupboard, along with whole cumin and coriander seeds, so in they went. Instead of more traditional lamb I defaulted to a tried and true, cheap and nutritious ground meat, 93% lean ground turkey. Lamb certainly would have been more distinct, but the ground turkey is a good vehicle; cook it just until done to retain its moisture.

To throw another curve in, I decided to use a new gadget. I got a meatball griller from

Williams Sonoma a couple weeks back (on sale for $10 from $50) so I decided to form the meat portion of the dish into balls and grill them. Obviously a very different result than sauteing in oil, but it certainly worked. The turkey held up pretty well to the intense dry heat, retaining decent moisture, but my gut told me to use beef or lamb, and next time I will.

The only difference if you decide to grill the meat is to mix it together with spices of choice and the onions pre-cooked. If you have a meatball griller, portion them accordingly, otherwise you can form them into patties like burgers, or Kefta, which are long skewered patties made in the Middle East.

All assembled, the plate looks quite nice and it's a good weeknight meal because it comes together quickly. Nutritious, balanced, salty, the fullness of the smooth yogurt dressing everything makes it quite satisfying.

Ingredients (Serves 2 people with leftovers for lunch the next day):

Yogurt Sauce:

Plain Greek yogurt, at least 2% fat

Juice of 1/4 to 1/2 a lemon

1 tablespoon dry dill or fresh equivalent

1 clove garlic minced very fine

1/4 English cucumber finely diced

1 tablespoon Extra Virgin Olive Oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Garnishes:

3/4 English cucumber partially skinned, 1" diced

2 medium ripe tomatoes 1" dice, or 2 cups grape tomatoes halved

1 cup Kalamata or other briny olives, halved

8 oz. good feta cheese, 1" diced

Couple handfuls of fresh baby spinach to make up bottom layer of the plate

Meat Component:

1 1/2 to 2 lbs. ground lamb, turkey or beef, at least 7% fat

1 teaspoon cumin seeds or ground

1 teaspoon coriander seeds or ground

1 medium onion, finely diced

Salt and pepper to taste

Optional: Pita pockets, cut into quarters, brushed with olive oil and baked for 10-15 in a 350° oven

Optional Equipment:

Meatball griller

Make the yogurt sauce by folding the ingredients into the yogurt and checking for seasoning. This is not meant to be too salty but rather smooth and refreshing against the salty olives and cheese. Put it in the refrigerator until ready to serve.

Assemble the garnishes in individual bowls and set aside.

Grind the spices (if whole) in a spice grinder and set aside.

Heat olive oil on medium high heat in a fry pan or dutch oven and when it's hot add a couple tablespoons of oil. Add the onions and cook until softened and beginning to brown, 10 minutes or so. Add the spices and cook until fragrant, 2 minutes or so. Add the meat and break it up with a wooden spoon or masher. Increase the heat to high and cook until the liquid has evaporated and the meat is beginning to brown, about 20 minutes. Don't let it overcook and dry out though. Remove from the heat.

For the optional grill method: Dice and cook the onions low and slow before assembly until caramelize and soft, then let cool. Mix them in with the meat and spices, season with a teaspoon+ salt and pepper to taste. Place them in a meatball griller or directly on the grill and cook until finished, which will vary depending on the type of meat.

To assemble the dish, place some spinach on a plate, then add the warm meat. Begin garnishing with yogurt sauce, vegetables, olives and cheese in no particular order. Drizzle some olive oil to lubricate the spinach and serve.

Bonda: Back in Business in Fairfield

Author's Note: I use my iPhone to take most of my blog pics, but I broke mine a couple weeks ago and I had to get a new one. I forgot to upload the pics I'd taken on the new phone before I restored it with all the data from my old phone, so I lost a week's worth of food images! Still annoyed but that's why there are no images here.

Abbondanza was almost a Saugatuck institution. To most people that means nothing, but Saugatuck is a neighborhood in Westport that was historically Italian until the construction of I-95 in the 50s, which blasted and paved a big divide through the heart of Saugatuck, initiating a slow death to the paesan atmosphere where my dad grew up. Abbondanza didn't open until the 90s, but it kind of re-energized the area, carving out a niche as a gourmet takeout spot for lunch and dinner. Not really a deli where you'd get a turkey sandwich, but everything else from mulligatawny to pasta salad to pork tenderloin with mango salsa.

For a while after college when I was single, living at home and looking for things to spend money on, I would frequent 'Bondanza for lunch and pay the often premium price for fried catfish, chicken cordon bleu or cheese steak Fridays. With a healthy catering business established over the years as well, they decided to try their hand at full restaurant service a few nights a week in the space that was once a gas station. Bonda, as it was called to distinguish it from the takeout part located in the same space, started without a liquor license and only half a dozen tables, but through their loyal customers they flourished and became one of Westport's best rated restaurants per the New York Times and Zagat.

My family has always supported them, and being a ten minute walk from my parents' house, it was an ideal restaurant for a special occasion. In fact, situated exactly midway between my parents and Nicole's parents, it was the perfect spot for our first dinner date (sans parents). Since then we've tried to get in there at least a few times a year (became more difficult when we were in wedding saving mode) to see what's new on the menu and to catch up with the ever-present staff.

So when I went down a couple weeks before our wedding to get some gift certificates for our parents, I was really disheartened to hear that they were closing down in a matter of days. They had scaled back dinner to weather the difficult economy, and during the lean Winter and Spring they decided to reevaluate the business and look for space elsewhere. Hearing that, Nicole and I scraped together some funds needed elsewhere for a sendoff dinner on one of their last nights. Jamie, the owner, said he was seriously looking at property in Fairfield with aim to reopen mid-summer as a dinner-only restaurant. We hoped for the best and got on their email list in the hopes that they could make it happen.

Fortunately they were able to recreate the allure at their new location in charming Greenfield Hill Center. Nicole and I had a table on the first night of their soft opening last Tuesday. The new space (where Fraiche used to be) builds on the old one but gives Jamie a warmer, more intimate setting to work with. The big vintage posters that were a trademark of the old place are still there, but on deep mustard colored walls now with a nice dark wood floor. There is a cool contempo little bar when you walk in just big enough to grab a drink while you wait for your table. For now there are only about 10 or 12 tables, but there is a dining room in the back if demand requires its use, or perhaps for private events.

We always felt good vibes emanating from the place when we used to go because of the people working there, and since they've retained much of the crew we almost instantly felt it again on opening night. Bonda and Abbondanza may sound Italian, but the food is about as eclectic and resistant to typecasting as you can be around here. They seem to represent a dozen or so culinary genres at any given time on the menu. And the wine list is similarly structured to offer a bottle or two from pretty much every major wine region of the world.

The menu was a mix of their last one in Westport and some innovations for their new venture. Nicole had to go for the venerable iceberg wedge as soon as she saw it, while I decided to try something new and go for grilled calamari salad. For dinner she chose a steak frites with french fries and truffle mayo, and I ordered lemon pepper fried chicken with corn pudding. I never order chicken out at a restaurant, but on this menu it was definitely worth a shot.

As always, they start you off with a dish of room temp caponata and some crisp crostini to dip in it. Unlike my "camp grenada", theirs is smoother, more tomatoey and saucy, the better to be scooped up by the little toasts. It leaves your appetite stoked but nothing close to the full that can happen when you hit the bread basket too hard too fast.

Nicole's app is probably the best interpretation of this variation on a classic I've had: two quarters of iceberg, Russian dressing on one, creamy bleu on the other, with a serious slab of Berkshire pork bacon on the side. Unpretentious and fun, it hits a bunch of spots of americana comfort dining in one round. She never gets tired of it, and I never get tired of eating the last quarter or so of the smoky swine that she can't finish.

My antipasto was definitely a contrast; three grilled squid bodies with gigante beans and fennel, dressed with spicy oil and citrus. Now, for me grilling squid is one of the toughest things to get right. "Whatever you do don't overcook it! Just cook until it's opaque and that's it, so easy." Easier said than done if you ask me. I err on the side of raw and it comes out crunchy on the inside. No good. I give it an extra minute past the 2 minute mark when it's curled up and shrunk to half the original size, and still a congealed yizz oozes out. I clean that off and hope no one notices. The point is I'm always a little tentative with that first bit of non-fritto squid. This time I did get a bit of that crunchy texture that signifies slight undercooking. Fortunately the texture improved with each body so that by the third it was near perfect. The beans were firm and a little too waxy for me, the fennel and dressing slightly spicy but mellow, the whole a little undersalted. Hard to compete with an size 9 shoe slab of bacon though.

Despite it being busy, the service appeared seamless to us diners. With help from his wife, Jamie was able to make the rounds to all his loyal clientele, man the bar and handle wine service. After a complimentary, congratulatory round of champagne, we orded a smooth, slightly sweet Costa de Oro Pinot Noir to split the difference between Nicole's red meat and my fried chicken.

The entrees were both new offerings from Bonda for us. Nicole's steak, thin and long, was juicy medium rare and tender as you'd imagine. The fries were diner-cut, golden and with abundant crunchiness. She thought they were too salty, but I thought the salt was spot on. She's normally a salt fiend, but she likes to handle the sprinkling when it comes to her fried potatoes I think. She didn't ask for ketchup. The truffle mayo added considerable heft and burp-inducing richness to the dish, cut by a vinegary watercress salad also on the plate.

The fried chicken was served boneless in two pieces, with a chunky corn pudding and a kind of awkward looking frisee salad. I made the right choice of slicing into the thigh first; the coating was crunchy through and through, no hint of sogginess, the lemon pepper coming through in waves. The meat was perfecto-ly cooked; moist, tasty with the skin on--seriously as succulent as a piece of chicken can be. It went great with the sweet corn pudding, which was chunky but loose enough to be used as a dipping sauce. The frisee salad was actually well seasoned and came in handy when we needed a break from the big flavors of everything else. It gave me a nice refreshment before I went at the second piece of my entree, which was the breast. I said I made the right choice starting with the thigh because a breast can never follow up a piece of dark meat and hope to compare. Luckily I was full and helped Nicole chip away at her fries.

Without a dessert menu for the night, we were served a bowl of fresh berries and some whipped cream to share. For a Tuesday night it was perfect, and I'm glad they didn't give us the chance to order something more gluttonous. As it seems like we always do when we eat at Bonda, we were the last people to get up from our table after a nightcap.

Good dining is about creating an experience; very well made and interesting food, warm staff and a nice setting are what we look forward to at Bonda. It's good to see they still hit it right on the head and have even built on it.

Looking for Pizza on a Sunday Evening: Pizzeria Molto

So much for trying to be spontaneous on a Sunday evening for dinner. We figured we try out the new Colony Grill in Fairfield for some pizza, and to see how it stacks up to the original in Stamford. As you can tell from the title that's not where we ended up.

After being out and about most of the day, we were groggy and couldn't muster the motivation to brainstorm and then physically prepare dinner for ourselves. We should have known 3 out of 5 people in the area felt the same way. The new Colony, big, open, very sports bar, was hopping and we were looking at a 30 minute wait. I was incredulous and gestured with a rapid wave of my index finger to the hostess that we couldn't be expected to linger at the front door for that long.

We had options though; Pepe's in Fairfield, Molto in Fairfield, Rizzuto's in Westport, Paradise Pizza in Stratford, which had been recommended to us as a local spot in our new surroundings. We got on I-95 and headed for exit 24 and Pepe's, figuring it's been open long enough that on a "random" Sunday like this one there shouldn't be that many people with hankerings for pizza. Strike two. This time we didn't even get out of the car as we saw the line of people snaking out the door. Saps!

We thought about widening the search with Asian or bbq, but in the end we decided to stick with pizza, albeit at a more "bells and whistles" kind place, Pizzeria Molto. Of course now we realized lots of people were out and about, and why not? The rain had taken the heat down about 20 degrees and it was breathtaking. So we waited at the bar, where we got the requisite drink even though we'd had a late night Saturday and I really just wanted a diet coke or something to wake me up. "So I guess we're in it for at least a couple beers now because I'm not going to drink water with my pizza and I've just ordered beer number 1."

For a while before it opened, Molto was supposed to be an Obika, the mozzarella bar. "Locations in Rome, Turin, Tokyo, London, New York, and soon to be Fairfield...Connecticut. That's Connect-i-cut." Maybe they realized that and pulled the plug. So then the sign in the window changed to Molto, which made me think Mario Batali/Joe Bastianich were pushing the boundary of their empire another few miles from their most recent outpost at Portchester. But no, this place has nothing to do with them even though it looks like it could.

It's a narrow space with a bar running practically the length of the dining room, and elevated booths on the opposite wall. Carrara countertop on the bar, white and black tiled floor and vintage posters round out the look. High ceilings make it pretty loud, but in the nicer weather they have a good amount of sidewalk seating, something kind of rare in these parts. Since it was the first day in a while suited to dining al fresco, we waited the extra few minutes for it and got a nice booth to ourselves.

They quickly brought out our sliced bread and olive for dipping, spiked with lots of red pepper. Unfortunately the oil might as well have been canola. Now I'm not going to deliver a diatribe at length about this, since the bread and olive oil is a gimme at italian restaurants now. But unlike butter, which for years as the standard just had to be salty and not margarine, olive oil can't just lubricate bread as it goes down your throat. It should be more than greasy; peppery or grassy, deep golden to green. I mean, we ate all the bread with it, but as simple as the issue is, it bears mention. It could easily be so good, so it's a shame when it's not.

We ordered a couple salads and split a Margherita pizza. The salads came first; Caesar with chicken for Nicole, Gardiniera for me with mozz, marinated eggplant and artichokes, white beans and greens. The salads were decent, refreshing, well seasoned though Nicole thought mine was bland after her salty dressing. I'm not going to be a snob, ok maybe just a little, but the mozzarella, fresh as you expect around here, left me wanting. Arggguile, I'm going to have to get used to settling for the time being because I can't afford to hire a courier to fly me balls of it from Campania every day on a supersonic plane.

They let us finish our salads and sit for a few minutes before bringing out the pizza, with another round ordered in between. The pizza came hot but not 'instantly burn the tip of your tongue' hot, which was good. They do their Margherita up with sauce, cheese, basil, and some cherry tomatoes scattered about.

Forkless and plateless at first, we went at it. Molto's is brick oven pizza, pretty thin crust, not super crunchy on the outside. For me the oven isn't hot enough because there was little or no char on the bottom. The bread was not really chewy either, more inclined to tear with a little effort. Not necessarily a bad thing, just an observation. Neither of us was a huge fan of the sauce; too saucy in that it had too much sweetness, too much dried oregano. We're both of the opinion that on Margherita the tomato should be just that; tomato, raw when it goes in, quickly cooked and thickened by a super hot oven. The cheese stretched and pulled nicely, not greasy, just enough of it.

We were satisfied, leaving literally one bite on the plate when we were both full with a piece to go. The pizza wasn't bad but not good enough to make Molto a landmark like Pepe's the original or Colony the original. No matter though because Molto is more than just a dive turned into destination over the years, it's urban-inspired wine bar italian. That was our second time, and the first time we enjoyed the italian small plates like lamb chops and fried artichokes. For a place calling itself a wine bar they don't have the biggest or greatest selection though, nor do they go out of their way to offer up choices by the glass. Maybe they just don't have the room.

What I was looking for Sunday night was a dive kind of experience, a landmark where we could choose from half a dozen types of pizza and beer or soda. Instead we had a nice date, so I can't complain.

Pizzeria Molto

1215 Post Road, Fairfield, CT

www.pizzeriamolto.com