Fast, pristine, and satisfying small plate servings in rapid fire succession by a multitude of earnest staff marked my visit to "Lo Scoiattolo" - The Squirrel - which is actually attached to a boutique hotel.
We had a four course meal starting with the tenderest, leanest prosciutto I have ever had, it was three inches wide without any white. This was served with bufala mozzarella, arugula leaves, pickled carrot tepees, cherry tomatos, and a cheese plate. All came on serving plates that we passed around. Appetizer round two: we received clean plates and a parade of wait staff dumped into them the following: a stuffed artichoke, a hot zucchini salad, scalloped potatoes baked in alternate layers with dough, spinach, and a zesty Spam-like paté, and broccoli rabe with white kidney beans. The artichoke was the low point. The stuffing was tamped in too hard, rolled out of the 'choke like a ball, and tasted wooden. The locals ate the outer leaves like Pandas.
For the entree we had spaghetti with a ragu sauce, and ravioli in same. If I remember both on my deathbed, Italian food will be well represented in my final thoughts. The spaghetti looked normal, but on close inspection was square - alla guitara. The meatballs were smaller than my thumbnail but plentiful. The ravioli was semi-circular and supposedly filled with a bufala mozzarella. I can't vouch for that but it rocked.
"Mille Foglia" cake came next: a perfect blend of crunchy, flaky, dough with crushed strawberries and home made whipping cream. I was full - "sono sazio" - but I wolfed down this confection to raised eyebrows from other tables. Done. But wait there's more. A fruit tray came out, coffee in a shot glass - that's how they do - and an elegant aperitif they called a bitter. It was. Supposedly it helps the digestion but I immediately ordered a box of Nexium from my heartburn app. Seriously, I asked the manager what it was so as to avoid it in the future and (I guess he was excited to have an American in his joint) he totally misunderstood me and gave me a bottle. I took it. It may be helpful if our carburetor gums up.
All in all it was superb general Italian fare, they bake their own cakes and make their own spaghetti. They are most certainly not representative of the Pescara region. Restaurants in Rome have this same menu. But when not in Rome....
Next time I'll complain about the Glenfiddich. read more