Small plates, big on flavor
Something different at Damiano
When opening a new restaurant in the restaurant-heavy North End, how do you make yourself stand out? By doing something different, or by doing something very well. Both at the same time works, too.
That's the approach Ristorante Damiano takes. Owner Damien DiPaola, recognizing the growing popularity of small plates, decided to serve nothing but at the little, earth-toned restaurant in the space that was formerly Caffe Graffiti. These are piattini, though, not tapas - firmly rooted in the Italian idiom that brings people to the North End in the first place.
Rather than finger food, they're more like downsized entrees, the fettuccine Alfredo, filet mignon, and chicken piccata you might get elsewhere, but in miniature. They're prepared by DiPaola and chefs Joseph Personale and Gary Gianchetti, graduates of the French Culinary Institute and the Culinary Institute of America, respectively. DiPaola got his start opening Hadley restaurant Carmelina's in 1985, though he grew up around the business - his Italian parents owned the original Caffe dello Sport, and he learned to cook at home from them. There's technique and tradition behind these dishes.
Seared sea scallops are buttressed by sauteed oyster and button mushrooms. They're huge, cooked just past raw, lush and delicious. But what makes the dish special is a buttery sauce that carries a kick from chilies and the slight, welcome bitterness of grapefruit.
Risotto with peas, prosciutto, and Parmigiano is a creamier-than-usual version served in a tiny copper pot. The creaminess lets the full flavor of the cheese assert itself; the grains of rice are perfectly al dente.
Lamb lollipops have a pistachio crust and come with an Italianate riff on mint sauce: mint pesto. With grapes and figs, it's a wonderful combination, and the lamb is juicy and full of flavor.
It's satisfying food, not frilled up or worked over, simply very solidly prepared and prettily presented. And there's plenty of variety. The menu is divided into seafood, vegetarian, and meat small plates, plus a section of salads. There are nearly 40 piattini to choose from, as well as a rotating list of specials. You won't get bored.
But just in case, there's also a long wine list, with each of the more than 50 selections available by the glass. These range in price from $7 for a seafood-friendly Sicilian grillo to $28 for a 2003 brunello (per bottle from $25 to $110). Almost all of the selections are Italian, as are several microbrews. Quite a few of the bottles are from Sicily; there's a mosaic trinacria, the region's symbol, in front of the restaurant's entrance.
Sicily is less visible in the food, not extending much past the Palermitana, spaghettini with pine nuts, golden raisins, and rapini. It's a bit oily, in need of a salty element such as anchovies, Parmigiano, or, well, salt. A better vegetarian pasta is the ridiculously, sublimely good penne gorgonzola, my vote (thus far) for this season's best comfort food. The pasta is perfectly chewy, nestled in gorgonzola and cream, accented by shreds of sun-dried tomato and spinach.
Another dish well rendered is the baby eggplant, a Lilliputian parm: tiny rounds of Japanese eggplant breaded lightly and fried, served in a lovely, bright tomato sauce with basil and cheese. Garlic shrimp is delicious, if not so garlicky. It's more like piccata sans batter, served in lemon, butter, and capers with spinach; the shrimp are tender and sweet.
The house salad is perfectly pleasant alone, simple greens in a good dressing, but it's much better topped with veal Valdostana. The veal is thin and very fried, sandwiching prosciutto and fontina. Filet mignon, the most expensive plate on the menu at $16, is a beautiful piece of meat; you can get it with marsala sauce, "devil's sauce" (described as a spicy vodka sauce), or black garlic sauce. The last is a flavorful, tangy condiment made with balsamic, a nice complement to the tender meat, which is topped with mushrooms and sits on a round of potato, with a tiny carrot alongside.
Not every dish succeeds. The beets in a beet salad are mealy and have little taste, as if they're canned. Carbonara is tasty if you love pepper - it's drowning in it - but it's not like any carbonara I've had before: It's very dry and somewhat sticky. Nor is the "Crazy Alfredo" particularly crazy. It purports to be spicy, but it isn't; it contains chicken, slivers of salami-like meat, and roasted red peppers that dominate. The fettuccine itself is very good, however.
So is the atmosphere. A shiny open kitchen takes up one corner of the tiny room, with steam rising cozily over the abutting marble bar. There are brick walls, copper-colored sconces, and a checked stone floor in beige and cream. The decor looks warm, but the restaurant isn't. The door opens directly into the room, letting in blasts of cold air. This is a problem that needs to be remedied immediately.
Many diners appear to be North Enders - young women catching up over wine and a snack, a family with a kid eating something in red sauce. The soundtrack tends toward Portishead and Ladytron. The room is loud, the patrons convivial.
The staff, too. The waiters do a lot of shoulder touching and teasing. One waitress, a Mila Kunis look-alike, offers unsolicited opinions about everything from the shrimp dishes to the wine to which is the better pastry shop, Mike's or Modern. There's no dessert at Ristorante Damiano - the text on the back of the menu recommends heading to a cafe, gelateria, or pastry shop. "These are the after dinner professionals," it says.
It also mentions that the kitchen can get backed up because of the care taken with each dish: "It is worth waiting an extra few minutes. Capice?"
Capisco. Ristorante Damiano has dinner under control.
Devra First can be reached at dfirst@globe.com. 