Stylish but shorthanded in the burbs
Tomasso Trattoria Enoteca
Southboro
Pasta, pizza $7-$11. Dinner: Antipasti $3-$9.
Pasta, pizza $7-$11. Main courses $16-$21.
Desserts $5-$8.
Lunch: Mon-Fri 11:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m. Dinner: Mon-Sat 5:30-10 p.m., Sun 4-9 p.m. Reservations accepted. American Express, MasterCard, Visa, Fully accessible.
We're bobbing in a sea of Italian cuisine these days, and restaurants have to work hard to distinguish themselves. Tomasso's Trattoria, a sleek, city-style place in the far reaches of the western suburbs, concentrates on good bones, including great products, an imaginative and extensive wine list, and a concept that stresses small plates and simple presentation.
The players are also distinguished. Tom Prince and his wife, Mary, co-owners of the restaurant, left successful business careers to follow their dream and open Tomasso's. And the manager, Lorenzo Savona, is well-known as a local authority on Italian wines. Tony Bettencourt, the chef, last worked for Amanda Lydon at UpStairs on the Square. All of this bodes well, and at times and in individual dishes the promise holds and the concept works. But even though the restaurant opened in November -- meaning the kinks should have been worked out -- eating at Tomasso's can be stressful.
It's a Sunday night and we arrive early, noting the large space that's handsome and expensively appointed. It's busy but not packed, and there seem to be plenty of staff to take coats, fill water glasses, and bring rolls. However, even early in the evening, panic looks to be setting in among the staff. I have to call the manager over to get menus, and the waitress is already apologizing when she passes by the first time, saying the staff is shorthanded and promising to return.
After a long wait, and many water refills, she does. By this time, more than an hour has passed since we were seated, so when our first antipasti arrive, we're famished. The polpette, fat meatballs in a tomato sauce, are fine. The little triangles of bruschetta covered with a vinegary caponata relish are so good we long for more. A pizza Margherita has an appealing crust that's piping hot and slightly bready, but has a shortage of tomato sauce. But we're hungry, it's good, and the slices disappear immediately.
And then we wait, while noise swirls around us, reverberating off the hard surfaces in the room and from the open kitchen. Cooks race around the kitchen, putting dishes on the counter as the waitstaff grab them to deliver. We watch the plates fly by as the waitress apologizes again, and almost another hour passes before we're served the next course.
Grilled Tuscan steak, served with a fluff of greens, proves to be pinker than we ordered, but it's a thick cut, juicy and flavorful. Chicken mattone, or flattened under a weight, is a whole, small bird, with a delightfully crisp skin and a moist interior -- each bite is perfectly cooked. But a plate of risotto with zucchini flowers and spring greens swims in a soupy puddle, tasting mostly of mint. In fact, it's difficult to discern risotto at all. Most disappointing of all, the edges of a pork chop Milanese hold a crisp-edged delicacy with tender pink meat inside. But the middle of the pork is not pink, but bright red -- basically uncooked.
Nights like this happen in restaurants, and after a while it's a little like watching a sitcom; a waitress drops part of a pizza into the lap of a woman behind us, and we receive more apologies for the slow service.
An earlier visit is much more rewarding, however, with the waitstaff congenial and calm and the kitchen crew producing dishes in an orderly flow. The food also sparkled. We start with a silky-textured chicken liver pate with vin santo on crostini. An arugula salad with sharply flavored pickled onions and shavings of pecorino Sardo adds a piquant contrast; and arancini, those rice balls that are all the rage, give a wonderful textural contrast, all crispy on the outside and voluptuously full of fontina inside. The fritto misto of vegetables tastes too much of its frying oil, though the fennel bulbs, still crisp under the batter, are good anyway.
Tomasso's rejects the notion that suburban diners may harbor notions of low-carb diets and offers an imaginative list of pastas. Tender, wide ribbons of pappardelle hold nuggets of braised rabbit, tomatoes, and green olives, its flavors bright and robust. A dish of toasted gnocchi with aspargus, wild mushrooms, and fava beans needs a little more concentration of the sauce, or at least more salt, but the vegetables are appealing, promising that spring might someday come.
On this first visit, the pork chop Milanese is at its crunchy-edged best, with the frying a virtue and the meat delicious, and the chicken is a standout. Some of the consistently good dishes are the contorni, or side vegetables. We inhaled a dish of chickpeas with Swiss chard and olive oil, very simple and prepared just right. Broccoli rabe sprinkled with just enough bits of hot chilis and garlic stand out, too. And I'd suggest two orders of oven-roasted potatoes with sage. One would never think of coming here just to eat the vegetables, but they're good enough to seek out.
Tomasso's wine list is formidable and fascinating, and, not surprisingly, especially strong on Italian vintages. Many of the wines are available in a quartino size, a carafe of about a glass and a half; it's a great way to allow diners to vary their choices or to try several different wines. More than 30 wines are offered this way, including vintages from Piedmont and Lazio as well as Sicily and Tuscany, meaning you can get an education in Italian wines without committing to bottles.
Even if the rest of the dinner has been slow or spotty, dessert is worth waiting for. Pastry chef Mary Bergin has a light touch. A tall, cool glass of amaretti semifreddo, an ethereal version of custard, has a toffee base so that the result is a delectable contrast between the crunch of the toffee and the wispy almond-scented semifreddo. Tiramisu gets the classic version just right, a sponge of cake soaked in liquor with a puddle of creamy custard over the top. And a chocolate lover could sink gratefully into a budino di cioccolato, an intense chocolate pudding. Each plate comes with an assortment of wonderful cookies.
Dining out is often a little like reading a novel: One chapter doesn't make the whole, and it takes a little time to see where the story will lead. We leave smiling each time, hoping that Tomasso's plot will smooth out so that the best of its dishes and the joys of its wines will lead to consistency.