A Life Worth Eating

A trusted friend in Rome had told been the first to tell me that Chef Moreno Cedroni was an artist, whose cuisine was well worth my time and money. Many others had confirmed this assertion, praising his great creativity. I arrived for my 1pm reservation hungry and excited to see what this chef could do.

Given two menu degustazione choices, creativo and tradizione, I chose the former, priced at €120. (There was a la carte, too, of course, but it took about half a second to figure out that this was a chef whose vision would be best appreciated in a tasting menu format.) The list of dishes extended all the way down the page, and I was excited by the fact that I couldn’t count them at first glance. It looked to be 15 or so, but I closed up the menu and the feast began. I wanted to be surprised.

Four types of bread were brought out: black bread made with squid ink; a very crusty baguette-like bread; fat whole wheat grissini; and thin, crisp crackers made with caraway seeds. None were particularly amazing, though the black bread looked cool, at least, and its subtly rich flavor seemed to work pretty well with the slightly spicy olive oil from near Arezzo that was served along with the bread.

The first course was Americano Solido (2002). The classic cocktail reinterpreted. Served in a Collins glass, with a long (maybe 6in), narrow spoon resting on the edge of the glass, like those honey spoons for tea. The campari came in the form of small cubes of gelee, while the vermouth was a cold foam. A splash of club soda, and this edible cocktail was complete. Just enough of the campari’s bitterness was able to shine through in the gelee to make this pleasantly refreshing when coupled with the chilled vermouth and club soda components of the “drink”. Pretty nice start, if a little tough to eat with that funky spoon.

Next up was Gelato al parmigiano di Ferran Adria. This one, of course, needs no translation. Inspired by the famously innovative Spanish chef, the parmigiano gelato was sandwiched between two paper-thin crackers, which were also flavored with parmigiano. Good flavor once you let it slowly melt on the tongue. The texture, to me, was more like semifreddo than the creaminess I associate with gelato, but that probably has to do with the inherently crystalline texture of the cheese itself. I almost wanted some sort of top note to boost the flavor of this dish, perhaps just a drop of stravecchio balsamic vinegar, but it never came. The taste, I suppose, was meant to be of pure parmigiano, and nothing else.

The next thing listed on the menu was not a dish at all, but rather the drink meant to accompany the following few courses. Metodo Classico Garofoli Brut Riserva (2002), a bubbly dance across the tongue to wake up the taste buds for the delicate seafood that was to follow.

The drink’s first companion was Caviale Calvisius e Burrata (2006). I’d seen the combination of caviar and burrata cheese three or four times in New York before, and I knew the oceanic salinity of the fish eggs and unapologetic creaminess of the cheese were a nice match for one another. This white sturgeon caviar, a farmed product from Italy, was firm, relatively large in size, and a gorgeous full black color. Tasted on its own, the flavor was good, and eaten in combination with the burrata, it added just the right amount of salt. Still, though, I felt like this dish was lacking something. I don’t mean ingredient-wise, necessarily. Two complementary flavors is certainly enough to make a good dish. But if you are going to serve me just two ingredients, ideally I want them to be the best of each that I’ve ever tasted, and that just wasn’t the case here. The flavors didn’tquite sing enough on their own, or lift one another the way I’d hoped they would.

Next up was L’Insalata di Mare che si da le “Arie”…al Limone (2006). Literally, “the seafood salad to which one gives the ‘airs’…of lemon”. Strange name, I thought, but what a knockout dish. Perhaps the best of the meal. The seafood salad consisted of different varieties of crostaceans and mollusks — raw shrimp and canocchie (mantis shrimp), lightly cooked calamari, seppie (cuttlefish), and lobster. It rested on a soft bed of finely minced vegetables, some basil pesto, and a lovely shellfish reduction probably made with more lobster shells than I can count. Resting atop the salad was lemon “air”, a very light foam. So, so good. The buttery texture and clean, delicate flavor of raw shrimp is, for me, one of the biggest culinary pleasures one can experience. And everything about this dish was wonderful, really. The textures, the flavors, the way it all came together. Bravo.

Moving along once again, a new wine arrived (I’ll list these later), along with Cappesante brasate con pomodori gratinati, salsa ai finocchi (2007). Braised scallops with gratin tomatoes and a fennel emulsion. There is no getting around the fact that certain things just taste better in Italy. Fennel is one of them. The puree upon with the scallops rested was fantastic. The tomatoes, too, were quite tasty. I personally would’ve preferred simply seared scallops to the braised ones presented. The result with that cooking method for scallops always seems to be a bit too cooked for my taste. The flavor was quite good, to be sure, they just weren’t as tender as they should have been, I think.

Next up was Zuppa di cavolo con uova di seppie e gelato all’alice salata (2006). This was definitely a winner. A shallow bowl of cabbage soup, with a small scoop of salted anchovy gelato and a single cuttlefish egg in the center. Surrounding the gelato were a few pieces of incredibly buttery cauliflower, and three lightly breaded and grilled cuttlefish. The hot-cold, buttery-salty, creamy-crunchy contrast going on all over this dish was very nice. The texture of the gelato was wonderful, and the addition that really made the dish was the delicious grilled cuttlefish. Good show.

Time for some pasta now, with Rigatoni all’arrabiata con alici fresche e melanzane (2007). The classic “angry” tomato sauce laced with red pepper, here enriched with tiny bits of fresh anchovy. The four rigatoni were sauced and stacked like lincoln logs on a beautifully colored eggplant and basil puree. The pasta was just a touch undercooked, but not terribly so. The flavors worked nicely together, especially the eggplant and basil with the (not really so spicy) tomato sauce, but I thought the anchovy was kind of thrown in there for no reason, just to say, “Hey, we’re a seafood-focused restaurant, remember?”.

One of the few dishes with both feet planted firmly on land was the next one, Tortellini di parmigiano con carne cruda al basilico e salsa di pomodoro (2007). Three tender tortellini with a liquid parmigiano filling. Only the slightest bit grainy, and don’t ask me how he acheived that liquid filling in the first place. But the result was certainly tasty. And pairing it with a small mound of raw beef, an almost-foamy basil sauce, and an intense tomato reduction, worked wonderfully. Very tasty course.

Moving steadily along, Bocconcini di rombo fritti con zucchini grigliate e salsa giardiniera (2003). Two good-sized chunks of cornmeal-breaded, fried turbot, piled atop grilled zucchini. At the base were two types of vegetable based sauces. If my memory is to be trusted, I think one was zucchini & basil, and the other was summer squash. Crowing it all was a crispy piece of fried turbot skin with the texture of deep-fried pork rind. The fish was moist, and the flavor pretty good. But given the context of the meal overall, I found the dish to be a little boring.

Next up: Poll & Pol (pollo e polpo alla cacciatora) con purea ed alga kombu (2007). After the beautiful series of platings that had preceded it, I found this presentation to be, well, almost ugly. I’m not talking in terms of the china used; the food itself just was not visually appealing. A bland white piece of skinless chicken breast, presumably either poached or cooked sous vide. Several chunks of octopus that were unfortunately a bit too chewy. Both were prepared “hunter style”, with the tomato, vegetable and herb condiment for which every cook seems to have his or her own version. The algae kombu (a type of sea-weed) was a nice touch that made sure the dish overall was more firmly planted in the sea than on land. But overall, this dish didn’t really do much for me.

The “cheese” course, if one should call it such, was Sorbetto di toma con confettura di fragole e timo al limone (2007). Toma refers not to a particular cheese, but rather to the drum-like shape of a whole series of Italian cheeses. A sorbet made from this mild cheese rested atop a delicious strawberry confit scented with lemon thyme. This was a tasty, and refreshing, introduction to the sweeter end of the meal.

Next was Bounty di seppia (2006). Again straddling the savory-sweet divide, this was a single chocolate, filled with a crispy cuttlefish-ink and cocoa mixture. Flavor was pretty dull, to be honest. Did this bite really warrant another line on the printed menu?

Certainly not much more fully in the dessert realm was Sedano rapa croccante con gianduja e mozzarella, spuma di nutella e zenzero, gelato al pepe di szechuan (2006). A crisp thin slice of deep-fried celery root with chocolate-hazelnut mouse and mozzarella, nutella and ginger “foam” with the consistency of whipped cream, and szechuan pepper gelato, the spicy-herbal top note for it all. I’ll be the first to admit, this flavor combination sounds like a mess on paper, but the result was very good. The salty-sweet combination didn’t lean too much in one direction or the other. The interplay between the different textures and temperatures, too, was quite nice. Served alongside this dish, but listed separately on the menu, was The’ Marco Polo, a lovely warm cup of tea with wonderful aromas of vanilla and citrus. Very tasty.

Winding down now, it was time for Zabaione ghiacciatissimo!!!!!!!!! (2005). “Very frozen” zabaglione. This was incredible. A thick mound of eggy zabaglione, dropped tableside into liquid nitrogen, then handed to me with the instruction to eat it quickly. Such a cool sensation to eat this flash-frozen treat, the initial icy shock quickly giving way to boozy, sweet creaminess on the tongue. Nice.

Had I finally come to the end? Not before a few more little treats. The piccola pasticceria that both preceded and accompanied my caffè was pretty good. The first round was a small creme brulee, a chocolate truffle with liquid mint filling, and hazelnut mousse. Along with the caffè came a small chocolate-caramel cube and a shot glass full of granita infused with the flavor of star anise. The mousse was my favorite among the bunch, and overall the first round was much better than the next. But at this point, really, did I need to be wowed? Not really. I was far too drunk to care much.

Why drunk, might you ask? Well, in addition to the aforementioned spumante, I had the following wines:
Pecorino Villa Angela 2006, Velenosi
Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi Class. Sup. Montesecco 2005, Montecappone
Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi Plenio Class. Riserva 2004, Umani Ronchi
Montepulciano d’Abruzzo Cerasuolo Vigne Nuove 2005, Valle Reale
Maximo Muffato, Umani Ronchi

I found the pairings, for the most part, to be pretty good. You can’t really go wrong with Spumante for caviar or delicate fish. I also enjoyed the Pecorino. I wasn’t such a fan of the first Verdicchio, but liked the second. The Montepulciano d’Abruzzo was nice. As was the Muffato, though not as wonderful as the one I’d tried at Osteria La Francescana in Modena. I don’t know the first thing about these wines, to be honest, but I found the pricing very fair, €26 for the five glasses (the spumante was included as part of the degustation menu).

So, all said and done, I was out of there for €155. Was it the greatest meal I’d ever had? No. I left unsure if it was even the greatest meal on the trip. But it was certainly fun, and I appreciated Chef Cedroni’s playfulness and sense of creativity. It seemed like he must be having fun back there in the kitchen.

Another word about the menu: I find that listing the year in which the chef conceptualized a given dish is absolutely ridiculous. But hey, we all have our idols, I suppose, and perhaps this is simply the chef’s homage to the Ferran Adria. Not every dish was a knockout, but the highs reached high enough that I would certainly go back sometime. Maybe tradizione next time?