Some Roman Restaurants, a Thanksgiving Visit to the Eternal City, by David Kubiak

Marco, Pierluigi ed Alessandro Roscioli

What follows is a culinary record of a week spent in Rome over the Thanksgiving holiday, an excellent time to be there if one wants both to eat white truffles and avoid the worst crush of tourists. I in fact heard English at only two of the restaurants I visited, and their staffs, while anxious to talk about how miserable their economic and political systems are, could not have been more cordial. As has always been my experience dining in Italy, knowledge of Italian is useful, but even more important is appreciation for the traditions of cooking. Comment meaningfully on the quality of an artichoke or the texture of the gnocchi, and you will make immediate friends in the restaurants of Rome. As to assessing their quality, the Latin adage tot homines, quot opiniones might have been created to describe critical judgments. I once sat next to a group of Roman businessmen at lunch who spent the better part of an hour discussing the merits of the risotto they were eating in comparison to those prepared by other restaurants they frequented. Guidebooks are always a little out of date in recommendations for an enterprise where quality can change very quickly; the Internet is largely useless, with the exception of reports by the canny American expatriate,Maureen Fant. My own history eating out in Rome goes back some forty years now. I well remember the place where I first saw baskets full of porcini and studied the elaborate choreography of a well-run dining room. It was at Passetto in the Via Zanardelli that I learned about Roman food, and how to play my part correctly in the Italian culinary theater. Passetto remains, having weathered a major scandal a few years ago when two Japanese tourists were charged 700 euros for lunch. Had they been eating dinner at Heinz Beck’s Michelin starred La Pergola the bill would have seemed reasonable, but the police were summoned to Passetto, and now that the dust has settled their awning reads “Wine bar/Caffeteria”. I didn’t have the heart to go inside.

Read the full review
 on the Berkshire Review, an International Journal for the Arts!