SUGARBEET
finished with basil oil and toasted almonds, then garnished with basil.
The kitchen also tipped its hat to its namesake with roasted beets seasoned with tarragon, pistachios and Pecorino. The cheese’s bracing tanginess was a fine foil to the beets.
One night’s small-plate special was a plate of grilled peaches topped with a soft, herbed cheese and prosciutto. Again, a smart contrast of flavor and color.
One caveat: Portions are large. Not stupidly so, but even small plates are shareable or capable of serving as entrees. (It might be nice if waiters pointed that out.)
A lovely Italian bread and tomato salad felt like a trip to one of those all-you-can-eat salad bars. It was beautifully composed in a glass bowl, with anchovy, croutons, fresh basil, olive oil and Parmigiano-Reggiano, but I was nearly defeated before the entree arrived.
Unless you’re a 19-year-old distance runner with a blast-furnace metabolism, you likely won’t be joining the Clean Plate Club here.
The wine list is smart and offers value. A glass of Spanish Luzon was priced at $8, which felt like a deal.
Three small plates pulled double-duty as mains.
A dish of Paccheri Ondulati showed a pasta-maker’s skill, with the wide, ribbed noodles piled in pillowy layers on the plate and slathered with the house marinara, Parmigiano Reggiano and fresh basil. (The kitchen crew has an affinity for cheese that would do a Wisconsin dairy farmer proud.)
Ricotta gnocchi was a departure from the traditional dumpling. Instead you got a creamy square that more closely resembled a polenta cake. Not a complaint, just saying. Graced with mini-tomatoes, basil and Pecorino, it was topped with three griddled shrimp.
Meatballs were made with a coarse-ground veal and pork mix, paired with fresh burrata — the Italian town of Padua’s gift to the work — and lapped with tomato sauce with a hint of an arrabbiata kick.
On one visit, three Baltimore residents envied the entree of the lone North Carolinian. The reason? The Tarheel was staring down at two fat crab cakes, packed with top-shelf crab meat and virtually no filler. Rounding things out were a bowl of fresh Green Goddess dressing and a cooling jicama slaw. The plate’s sole letdown: the sweet potato fries, which were limp as a KO’d boxer.
The Witherspoons are doing first-rate work. Longmont is a