Ditirambo in Rome

I’ve been to this place three times now. That usually means that it is a good find. However, my visits to Ditirambo took place over a period of three years, with at least a year separating each one. The first time was by far the best, and I seem to remember being slightly more disappointed with each successive visit. That is not to say that the quality was lacking. Perhaps I should have stuck to the meal I had the first time instead of sampling the other items on the menu. After all, I am a very “go with what you know” kind of guy.

The restaurant is located right off Campo dei Fiori, which usually means it is likely to be a spennaturisti, or “tourist trap” (literally, tourist-skinner). However, there was a good mix of locals and tourists alike. The menu hasn’t changed in the past three years, and they aren’t big on daily specials. My 9:30pm Friday night reservation was honored and we were seated 3 minutes after arriving. The staff was cordial, and the main room was comfortable with a shade of paint on the wall that blended well with the not-too-dim lighting. The table was ample, and not too close to other tables to the point where you end up listening to people’s bad conversations all evening, and vice versa.

We opted to skip the appetizers and go right to the first course. After perusing the menu, I don’t remember any outstanding appetizer so I would not know what to recommend. As a first course, I had the Calamari con polpa di granchio e vellutata di carciofi (calamari with crab meat and tomato sauce, which was not really calamari, but ring shaped noodles doused in the aforementioned condiment). It was, well, good, not exceptional. The word carciofi, or artichoke, is mentioned in the entry yet I did not taste any. My dining partners went for the Testaroli della Lunigiana al pesto genovese (flat, square shaped pasta thicker than lasagna, smothered in delicious fresh pesto) while the other had the Lasagne integrali con cavolo nero e crema di Raschera (whole wheat lasagna with black cabbage and cream sauce). I had the pesto dish last time I was there, and although it was good, I was not very impressed. The lasagna on the other hand was delicious. The first time I was there, in 2004, I had the Tagliatelle integrali al ragù di coniglio con pesto di pecorino romano e pomodori secchi (whole wheat pasta with wild rabbit and herb sauce with sundried tomatoes) which I loved. We accompanied our pasta dishes with a Verdicchio white wine (Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi Vigna delle Oche Fattoria San Lorenzo 2003), which was tasty but not something I would go out of my way to look for again. As a main course, I had the Spezzatino di capriolo al Primitivo di Manduria con riduzione di frutti di bosco (wild boar stew with onions and tangy fruit sauce condiment). It was good, but this is supposed to be a bit of a refined place in the center of Rome. The wild boar stew is something I would expect at a more rustic establishment in the countryside. My dining partners had the Tagliata di angus argrentino (Argentinean filet with rosemary condiment). We washed the second course down with an Umbrian Sangiovese & Merlot blend ( Rosso delle Regine from Castello delle Regine) which I would highly recommend.

Desserts are a strong point of Ditirambo. I had the chocolate and pear cake swimming in hot fudge. One dining partner has the chocolate flan while the other sat it out. The chocolate and pear cake was highly recommendable while the chocolate flan was a bit bland. Both desserts were paired with port and a French liqueur that had the word “poire” in it. I think that means pear, which is probably why it went very well with the chocolate and pear cake.

Ditirambo
Piazza della Cancelleria, 75
00186 Roma
Tel. 066871626

The Kingdom of Tiramisu'

I had been hearing about it for years. I frequent the area, yet I don’t know why I had never been there. Every resident of Rome knows about it, but only few seem to have ever really been there. Then one day, after a grueling day of shopping with Federica on via Appia Nuova, I remembered that I was near it. I didn’t know the name, I only knew it by Quelli del tiramisu’ vicino a piazza Re di Roma, or, “the tiramisu’ place near piazza Re di Roma”. I decided to turn to the person who is usually the most current of all neighborhood gossip, the newsstand guy. The answer rolled off his tongue, literally, before I finished the question. Pompi, it was called, the self-proclaimed regno del tiramusu', or, “Kingdom of Tiramisu”. Bar Pompi looks like every other bar-slash-pastry shop in Rome except for that it is roughly the size of a supermarket. The espresso machine looks like something that would be used against your enemy in time of war. About 40 people donning immaculate aprons with cute little hats man the counter in an assembly line fashion. “Ok, here’s your coffee” they tell you as they rip the little receipt exactly one centimeter down the middle. “Please move down 2 meters to collect your croissant”. The coffee was delicious, but we hadn’t gone there for that. We sought out the tiramisu’. Wasn’t this place supposed to be a shrine dedicated to the god of tiramisu’? Where was it? I expected to see someone in a tiramisu’ costume greeting people at the door. I walked the length of the showcase and saw an usually high quantity of small servings of tiramisu’, we were close. One offs, if you will. I almost forgot, for those of you unfamiliar with tiramisu’, it is a very popular Italian dessert made with mascarpone cream, fresh egg yolks, sugar, and lady fingers doused in coffee. The best thing about it is that you don’t even need to cook it. The worst thing about it is that it must settle in the fridge for several hours after you make it so it doesn’t fall apart when served. It is made by taking the egg yolks, mascarpone, and sugar and whipping them into a delicate cream. Then, you dip lady finger cookies in coffee and make a layer on the bottom of the pan. Top that with cream and then you add another layer of coffee-dipped cookies. The last layer should be cream. Stick it in the fridge for 12 hours and there you have it, tiramisu’. The literal translation of “tiramisu’” is “pick me up”. And that’s what it is, a little pick me up of coffee and large amounts of sugar. And there it was, off to the side, a cargo train-length shrine dedicated to the most delightful Italian dessert, tiramisu’. There was tiramisu’ of all sizes. You can get one for yourself, or your family, your squadron, whatever, from an ashtray-sized pan to a bathtub-sized one, they were prepared for anything. I opted for one that could feed approximately 10 people, and it ran me about 15 euros. The photo you are about to see was taken about 0.0005 seconds after the box was opened. That is all that needs to be said.

Bar Pompi
Via Albalonga, 7b (50 meters from piazza Re di Roma)
00183 Roma
tel. 067000418
Closed Mondays

Easter Lasagna

In a country in which 98% of the inhabitants claim to be Catholic, it goes without saying that Easter is some what of a big deal. As with every other major religious holiday in Italy, there is a state decree stating that every citizen must gain 5kg by the time they return to work the following Tuesday. Italians do not joke when it comes to holidays. Similar to Christmas, day following Easter is a day off from work as well. For lack of a better name, they dubbed it Pasquetta, or, “Little Easter”. After all, when one thinks about the quantity of food that is consumed the day which honors that dramatic moment in our Lord’s life, an extra day of rest is often needed to focus on the body’s digestive process. In Italy, work somehow always greatly interferes with the digestive functions of the human body, and that it is why is absolutely must be avoided in the days immediately following a holiday.

I am not here to discuss Easter, nor the day after Easter. I am dedicating this entry to the first time I have hosted a major holiday in my home, massive meal and all. I decided that I would make lasagna. In case you don’t know, lasagna is a layer cake of a sauce or vegetable of your choice, cheese, with thin sheets of pasta in between. Usually, you can buy the pre-made sheets of pasta in the supermarket. Or, if you’re serious like me, you go at it hardcore and make the pasta yourself, from scratch. I know most of you are thinking that is crazy. How could one possibly make pasta? With all of its intricate shapes and holes, wouldn’t it require an artistic skill of some sort? Absolutely not, in fact, pasta is one of the easiest things to make.

First, go out and buy a bag of flour and some fresh eggs. The general rule is 100 grams per person, and one egg per 100 grams of flour. Now, remember, Italians do not cook using scales and measuring cups. They do everything by eye. If you read recipes in Italians, you will often see terms such as “a half of glass of water” or “a bit of salt” and even “a handful of basil”. Italian cook books usually do not contain specific measurements. After all, your ingredients, elevation above sea level, and water hardness can vary greatly depending on where you are, so it is best to keep tasting your concoction to assure things are going according to plan.

Dump the desired amount of flour into a bowl. There were to be 5 hearty-appetited people at lunch, so I put about two-thirds of a 1 kg bag. The real pros put it right on the table, but if you’re inexperienced like me, that can be a real mess. Use the bowl. Next, take your finger to make a “hole” in the middle of the mountain of flour. Once you are satisfied with the dimensions of your hole, crack the eggs and throw them in one by one. Then, use your finger the whip the eggs so that some flour slowly falls into the hole, so that the flour and eggs begin to have a dough-like consistency. For those of you who do not want to be bothered with grimy hardened egg and flour caked on your fingernails for the next ten days, use a sturdy wooden spoon. Add a bit of water and salt, until the concoction becomes a big lump of yellow pizza dough. Once it becomes like this, keep kneading it for a little while, then let it sit for a half hour or so. It cannot be to hard, as you’ll need to be able to work with it. It needs to be have a consistency somewhere between soft pizza dough and clay. At this point, I decided that my lasagna was going to contain zucchini and eggplant. I went ahead and sliced the zucchini and eggplant into very small pieces and let them simmer in separate frying pans with some olive oil, garlic, and onion. Throw in a bit of salt and keep tasting them until you think they are good. They will need to cook for at least a half hour, I’d say. At this point, you might as well cut up some fresh mozzarella (please, none of that Polly O chemical stuff) and grate your parmigiano cheese and put it aside. Once you have that under control, go back to your lump of yellow dough and smell it. Doesn’t it smell good? Good, now, rip it into smaller lumps and flatten it out with a sturdy rolling pin so it becomes a massive thin sheet. You need to size the lumps and sheets correctly, based on the size of the plan in which you will cook the lasagna. You can always cut it after. Once you create sheets thin enough and sized correctly, you can then proceed to put them somewhere to dry out a bit. Make sure you coat them with flour so that they don’t stick to whatever you rest them on. Let them sit for about another 15 minutes, as you do not want mush lasagna. This will probably be necessary anyway, as working each lump into a useable sheet of pasta will take some time (unless you have one of those very expensive pasta machines). Now comes the easy part. Smear some oil on the bottom of your pan and throw down the first layer of pasta, preferably the hardest, thickest one. That didn’t sound nice. Anyway, on each layer, spread some béchamel sauce. Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Béchamel sauce is quite easy to make, and even easier to mess up. Put some whole milk into a small sauce pan and add some butter and flour until it gets to a thick liquid consistency. Too much flour will make it doughy, and too little will make it watery. If you don’t think you can handle it, simply go to the supermarket and purchase a ready made carton. Ok, back to the lasagna. Spread the béchamel sauce around your layer just so it is completely covered with a thin coating. Get the sides good, as they can get too crusty while cooking. Add your vegetables (or you tomato sauce), making sure that you’ve put enough aside to last for all 4 layers, as it was in my case. Slap down the next layer and repeat. I prefer to cover the top layer with only cheese and béchamel, although other schools of thought and lasagna theorists prefer to add the sauce as well. Do whatever you like. When you’ve completed at least 3 filled layers, stick it in the oven at 220 degrees Celsius and let it cook for about 40 minutes, checking it often. When you determine that it is finished cooking, let it sit for another 15 to 20 minutes outside of the oven, or else you risk eating lasagna soup. Buon appettito!

Porca Vacca in San Lorenzo, Rome

This restaurant should be classified under the T-Boning in Roma post. The name means "pig cow" and when shouted in the Italian language, the conditions of usage are similar to the American "Dammit!" or the British "Bollocks!". My reaction after eating there was quite the opposite, as it is by far the best steak house I have ever been to here in the EC (Eternal City, in case you were wondering). The wooden interior reminds me of a rustic Texan outpost, not like I have ever been to one. The only thing distinguishing it from Texas is the Italian flag instead of the set of bull horns over the front door. The staff is helpful and efficient, and they will help you work your way through understanding the various cuts and provenances of the steaks. In the back of the restaurant next to the fire pit is a huge showcase where the massive hunks of steak are proudly on display. The steak is served several ways: tagliata semplice (a mid-sized cut with no condiment), tagliata con condimento (a mid-sized slab with choices of toppings including mushrooms, thinly-sliced lard, and rocket, cherry tomato, and parmigiano shavings), or, alla Fiorentina (Florentine style, meaning that it is cut very thick and cooked bloody rare with no condiment other than salt and pepper). They boast several nationalities of beef, including Italian, Chianina (famous Tuscan cow), Danish, Irish, and Argentinian. I opted for the Danish (fatty on the outside and tender on the inside) smothered with thin slices of lardo di Colonnata. Ah, rare steak wrapped in lard, my arteries were thrilled afterwards. My dining partners opted for the leaner Argentinian topped with rocket leaves, cherry tomatoes, and parmigiano shavings. All were of utmost quality, not to mention quantity. Best of all, the steak is served on cast iron dishes which keep them sizzling while you eat them. Ragazzi... it doesn't get much better than that.

Porca Vacca
via dei Sabelli, 99 (San Lorenzo, near the Cinema Tibur)
00185 Roma
tel. 0644361167
closed Mondays
€ 25 per person (starter, wine & water included)
Highly recommended!

Ai Tre Scalini in Rome

Ai Tre Scalini
via Panisperna, 251 (Rione Monti)
00184 Roma
tel. 0648907495

Another good find in the Roman winebar circuit. I was actually attempting to go to my favorite winebar, La Barrique, but they happened to be closed. We got back on the Vespa and passed another place whose dimmed lighting and old-style wooden bar made it seem very enticing. What a nice find! The staff was very cordial, and seated us in the back room and immediately offered some snacks. The ambiance was pleasant, with comfortable couches, non-obtrusive lighting, and best of all, wifi access! We ordered a bottle of Virtu' Romane, an inexpensive delicious Frascati white and a plate of assorted salamis and cheeses. They must be doing something right, as the sign out front says that they've been around since 1895! Highly recommended.

A Roman wine bar to avoid

Enoteca Ferrazza
via dei Volsci, 59 (San Lorenzo)
00185 Roma
tel. 06490506

Well, unfortunately, it seems that most of the winebars in Rome are to be avoided. I have discovered that there are prevalently 2 types of wine bars in this town. One is a serious establishment, run by sommeliers who can speak passionately about their selections and offer excellent pairing advice. The other is the trendy type, where people go to see and be seen, the staff is rude, and the wine list is not worthy enough to be used as birdcage lining.

Once place that falls into the latter category is Ferrazza in via dei Volsci in San Lorenzo. The place has a nice appearance, with brick walls and wine stowed on stylish shelves which line the space. The problem is, they are not serious. First problem, they did not have the first 4 wines I asked for on the menu. The waitress suggested that try something similar, and proceeds to bring us over a bitter and bland Muller Thurgau which cost way more than it was worth. Plus, they tack on an obligatory 3.50 euros per person for their aperitivo buffet, which consists of canned beans with olive oil and vinegar, burnt bread, these delicious-seeming-in-appearance hors d'oeuvres which taste like fried wet bread when you bite into them, day-old cous-cous, and tuna-product. It was revolting. We decide to get another bottle, so I grab the list thinking that I must be able to find some decent economical Frascati for under 15 euros. Not possible, my first 2 choices were of course unavailable, so we were brought an atrocious wine-water concoction with had no smell and no taste, and marked up from 4 euros (I saw it in the supermarket next door) to 14 euros! The service is quick and cold, and the owner sits around the bar staring his flirting with his 5-strong fleet of waitresses. Another place to add to the long list of boycotted establishments in Rome.