It's tough out there. Despite the incredible quality of the restaurants we currently have in this town, hospitality is a bit broken. Restaurants are not the passion projects many people believe them to be. Sure, you need passion to make a successful restaurant, but you also need to be an accountant, an HR manager, a psychologist, a lawyer and a marketing expert just to make a living. Throw in staff shortages, remembering that a large number of people have left the industry and nobody has commenced a chef's apprenticeship for a few years. And then of course, there is the high cost of living, which is a minor problem when compared to the cost of high living, which is what we do when we visit a restaurant.
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The extensive but ambitious Italian Place Providore and Bottega went into voluntary administration last year and courageously traded their way back to good health. But when keyman and local legend Tony Lo Terzo suffered a massive stroke in early April, it was time to say arrivederci to the retail offering. Chef Francesco Petrillo and his team have bravely galvanised. Despite not having the luxury of the legend in the house, they have now consolidated the Italian Place Enoteca as their core business.
I can hear whispers and conversations around the room about Tony, and what he would have recommended tonight if he was here to treat his beloved patrons with his charm, wit and wise recommendations. We are seated in the back of the restaurant, which suits me fine, as I imagine that is where James Gandolfini would sit if he were both alive and able to dine here. The tables are packed in. This is the sort of place where you chat to the people on the table next to you. Our neighbours on both sides tonight look like they dine here frequently. And they chat frequently, which just adds to the experience.
My wife starts off like a Ferrari, ordering the parmigiana of baked eggplant, bocconcini fior di latte, Napoli sugo and basil ($24). It comes piping hot and browned to a perfect finish. The eggplant texture is creamy and well-salted to remove any hint of bitterness. I'm racing into the sarde imapanate, which is crumbed sardines with Sicilian pesto, orange, pine nut, currants and saffron ($24). They taste like the ocean, are well-seasoned, fried to a succinct crunch and are lifted by the citrus notes of the orange, with an additional texture of finely sliced radishes and pinenuts. They are washed down with a Pietramore rose ($19) from Abruzzo on the Adriatic coastline in central Italy, made from Montepulciano grapes. The wine list here is tight, but true to the "enoteca" title, which translates to "wine repository", there are more than 20 to choose from by the glass.
The ambience isn't quite nailed tonight. The lights are just a bit too bright for a Friday evening. The music starts with a rather upbeat, Eurovision genre, but ends up with the greatest hits of Matchbox Twenty. Details like this are always controlled by the keyman, so this is something that will need to be fine-tuned. I think I failed to mention that one also needs to be an engineer to run a restaurant.
Ravioli all aragosta is lobster ravioli with Avruga caviar, lobster bisque and tomatoes concasse ($44). This may be the signature dish on the menu and if it's not, it should be. The bisque is remarkably tasty and chef's ability to pack in the layers of flavour is magnifico. The parcels of pasta are soft and delicious. They float over the tongue like a Bocelli classic. Not to be confused with Botticelli, which can be found in aisle seven. Everything always sounds so good in Italian though and the former would certainly be a welcome addition to the playlist.
My wife twists a spiral of linguini allo scoglio ($40) onto her fork and for a moment she reminds me of Sophia Loren. The squid ink pasta is a shade of deep black with chunks of mussel, prawn and cuttlefish, with garlic, chilli and breadcrumbs. I taste it and get spiked by the flavour of a lovely crumbed anchovy bomb. As Sophia herself once said, "everything you see I owe to spaghetti". We share a radicchio salad ($14), which has yellow peach, toasted almond and lemon dressing. It is a bitter but balanced combination, cleaning up the palate and setting us up for the sweet course. Our demolished bowls of pasta sit empty and uncleared for close to 10 minutes, but really, this isn't going to spoil our weekend.
The tiramisu ($16) is composed of marsala, coffee and mascarpone and the kitchen nails the tension between the liquor, coffee and cocoa. It's cloud-like in texture, and our spoons do battle for the final mouthful.
Although the service lacks the slickness of previous visits, it won't take too much to get this back on track. Tony isn't here, but the warmth of the venue still exudes his charm. Even though the legend isn't in the house, there is space enough here to create new legends.
The Italian Place
Address: 38 Mort St, Braddon
Phone: 61798812
Website: theitalianplace.net.au
Hours: Lunch, Tuesday to Saturday, noon-2.30pm; Dinner, Monday to Saturday, 5.30-9.30pm
Chef: Francesco Petrillo
Noise: No real problem
Dietary: A couple of options
