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Each
month, Deborah McDonald jump-starts appetites with lively restaurant
reviews that scrutinize who�s cooking what and where. She works
anonymously, visiting each restaurant at least twice before writing her
column.
Do you know of a restaurant you'd like to have reviewed?
E-mail Deborah.
Dish Osteria & Bar is a romantic Treasure thriving in the
South Side Flats
Oh,
to be a child every Valentine's Day, a child around age 7. Hopping off
the school bus, running home as fast as I could with a cardboard
shoebox under my arm. Decorated with red and pink paper, bits of white
doilies and a slot jaggedly cut into the top with my mother's best
carving knife. Bulging thing wrapped tightly with a rubber band to
avoid the loss of a single valentine. Forced to wait until we got home
to find out who sent the biggest, made his or her own or taped on a
candy heart. Something so simple but, on Valentine's Day, the grandest
of treasures.
Dish on the South Side is an ideal
(grown-up) backdrop from which to recapture a fleeting microcosm of
those mystical Valentine's days. From the exterior, it looks more like
a corner residence bookending a series of weather-wizened, brick row
houses where the architecture hasn't changed much since the '30s, when
the mills were still spitting the byproducts of steel into the air.
Look carefully for an overtly modest sign, then be prepared to be
assaulted with cacophony as you enter. In a spot where most houses have
parlors, a bar full of beautiful people are having an inordinate amount
of fun. Laughing, gossiping, wrapping their arms around each other, to
the casual observer, they are people who could dance all night. The
offhand elegance is lusty and passionate - no overhead lighting! We
would have loved to have stayed but for the cigarette cloud that my
husband, Brad, declared off limits, so we trooped off 'round the corner
to a more serene getaway: soft, dim and enticing with just enough white
noise from next door to allow conversational anonymity, conducive for
whispering love or conspiracy.
Since opening five
years ago, the place has developed character, a loyal following and an
electrified bistro fare. "Italian with an accent on southern," says
owner Michele Savoia, who came to Pittsburgh via New York and Gela, a
small town on the south coast of Sicily. His philosophy: "Good, quality
products, starting from garlic, which is peeled in-house. I've evolved
with the restaurant, but the cuisine always goes back to my roots." If
you’re the kind of person who prefers boutique shopping versus large
department stores, you'll like Dish. (Savoia keeps a list of people to
call when he's making homemade gnocchi with lamb or oxtail). It's
unpretentious yet dreamy, just right for sneaking away from the
workaday world. Nightly specials complement the standard selections
with just enough surprises and imaginative detail to prevent freezing a
diner with indecision. We quizzed our server about the subtitle
"osteria" under the Dish logo and she proferred an articulate response,
obviously honed by repetition: "Italian for a small gathering spot,
usually family-run, for sharing small plates."
Aged balsamic vinaigrette, very good and not too sweet, swallowed up by
olive oil is perfect for dipping slices of the Mediterra Bakehouse
ciabatta that I have a crush on. Silent nods and knowing smiles
communicate the need for restraint, and we forstall a second basket as
our little group contemplates the bevy of appetizers with voracious
curiosity, osteria-style: olive marinade, a zany bowl of mixed olives
in a tangy homemade marinade; bruschetta ai funghi, sautéd portobello,
shiitake and cremini mushrooms with fresh basil on grilled ciabatta;
formaggi e salumi, an exquisite assortment of imported cheeses and
cured meats; and wild-caught Texas shrimp sautéd with garlic, olive
oil, organic cherry tomatoes, white wine and fresh parsley. A small
plate of pan-seared sea scallops, pressed into service as a special
that evening, is topped with a colorful pepper and scallion compote
made with leeks and shallots and drizzled with truffle oil, which our
server said "sends it over the top."
Co-critiquing
this night was my sister, Megan McDonald, from California, where herbs
grow thick as weeds on the roadside, taking a Pittsburgh pit stop
during her national speaking/book-signing tour for her children’s "Judy
Moody" series. "Subtract the price tags and Pittsburgh accents and you
have a Sonoma Valley restaurant," marveled Megan in disbelief. "Here,
whiff the cloud of basil," she said, poking me with her plate of
fettucine ai funghi e spinach - fettucine with the same three mushrooms
we loved in our appetizer, sautéd in extra-virgin olive oil with garlic
and spinach, parmigiano reggiano and more fresh-chopped basil - truly
one of the most incredible fragrances on earth. "I know, I know," I
said, poking her back with my linguine ai frutti di mare - linguine in
white-wine sauce clinging to fresh mussels, clams and shrimp. I will
not soon forget the wreath-like effect created by arranging the seafood
around a mound of pasta. (The Setaro pasta is from Naples). The flavors
are lovely together.
Lest you get the idea that we
are all about olives, mushrooms and pasta, I vouch for other dishes on
other nights: a virtuous, wild Atlantic salmon filet with white wine,
garlic, shallots and fresh parsley served with asparagus, cherry
tomatoes and mashed potatoes. A rich, tender prime-center-cut filet
mignon is the same price as a 10 ounce aged New York strip. We chose
the juicy, flavorful strip, perfectly cooked, served with sautéd
spinach and Yukon gold potatoes, diced and tossed with prosciutto and
sage. The house's daily grigliata mista di pesce, a selection of
grilled fish and shellfish with saffron risotto and Sicilian eggplant
caponata, might just be my favorite. Great meals are not built in
minutes, and I prefer a little space between courses. Dish pays
attention to rhythm. "Like Elvin Jones' seamless transitions on the
up-tempo jazz tune 'Midnight Walk,' timely pauses unite the meal,"
opines Brad.
With Prantl's almond torte awaiting us at home in the 'fridge, Dish's
desserts had a high hurdle to surmount, but the drive for sugar runs
strong in our family's genetic code. Then we overheard a customer
complimenting Savoia's mother-in-law Joan's confections and we decided
the torte could wait. Pumpkin cheesecake with homemade whipped cream
cleared the bar, while a silky, surreal panna cotta, cooked cream with
vanilla paste drizzled with a mixed berry glaze overcomes
provinciality, odd but refreshing. Dessert footnotes: If you eat late,
the list shortens. And, there is no plain old regular American coffee.
Fortunately, espresso and cappuccino are like a sixth sense, appealing
whether your brain is craving caffeine or not. "Some people think it's
because I'm a snob," says Savoia. "It's simply because I don't have
enough room."
As you move your way back out, new
Valentine's Day memories can be made. Bubble-shaped stained-glass
lampshades, strung evenly over the bar counter emit the same unblinking
magic of a child with a box full of puppy-love notes.
Point Brugge Cafe
Sonoma Grille
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