An impending trip to Rome had me daydreaming of tortellini and tiramisu. The only thing I could do, between ticket-booking and taking-off, was browse the endless food blogs for some tips and recommendations. Surfing one afternoon I came across this sentence: Every Thursday mama makes pillow-like gnocchi.
When Thursday in Rome finally arrived, my travelling companions and I wandered around the Campo-Di-Flori neighborhood looking for the trattoria promising "pillow-like gnocchi". What we found was not what we expected. There was no large glass windows framing happy patrons lingering over wine or ubiquitous sandwich boards with the menu in a selection of languages under multi-coloured flags. Nothing that distinguished this building as a restaurant at all, except for a small sign adorning the front door.
I anxiously rang the doorbell. A man opened the door and we got a glimpse inside -- a few tables with white linen and an entrance to a white marble kitchen at the back. Communicating in a combination of broken Italian and sign language, we asked to be served. He pointed to his watch and told us to come back after 7:30pm. We did and there was gnocchi.
As our luck would have it, they had typed out an English menu especially for us. My dining companions and I selected gnocchi (of course), boiled vegetables, grilled meatballs and "genovese," -- a typical dish of pork roast cooked with onions from Naples.
I was too self conscious to take photos so I decided to sit back, enjoy the food and let the evening unfold. I did manage to sneak a couple of low-quality shots from beneath my napkin fold whenever I thought I could get away with it unseen.
Having made Michael Smith’s gnocchi in the past, I had tremendous respect for the soft cushions that greeted me from my fork. Light, buttery, melt in your mouth and covered in thick freshly-made tomato sauce, the gnocchi was truly the star of the night.
When we were finished with our meal, we went to thank the owners. Nona emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron and we all gave her a big hug. Even though we could not communicate beyond “bellisimo!” “bella” and belly rubbing, I think our delight was not lost in translation. These intimate, family-run restaurants are found throughout Italy -- if you know which doorbell to ring. I highly recommend it for a truly memorable experience.
Settimio al Pelligrino
via del Pellegrino 117 near Campo dei Fiori
00186 Roma, Italia 066 8801978
Jennifer Myers is a Toronto based web designer/art director who loves food, design and travelling.
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Posted Thu, Sep 16 2010 3:27 PM by Guest Blogger Filed under: Italian, Restaurants, Dinner, Italy, Guest Blogger
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