CLASSIC ITALIAN AT SPASSO
Spasso Ristorante, on Queenston Road just east of Eastgate Square, has been open for more than 15 years, serving old school Italian fare.
Heading there, I wondered how it would stand up to the influx of newer eateries downtown.
On the midweek evening I went with my dining companion, the mid-size patio facing Queenston out front was populated by a handful of customers. A few hanging baskets helped to beautify the scene.
Inside, an old country feel: paintings of fruit bowls or leafy branches in hues of plum red and golden yellow placed around the room in faux archways; overhead lights acting as spotlights.
Beige walls and an irregular rectangle pattern on the tiled ceramic floor nudged us toward the countryside as “Mambo Italiano” belted through the speakers. Big bands and crooners came and went through the night, keeping the atmosphere uptempo and warm, with slightly dimmed lights.
Our server came to offer us the drink menu. She told us the owners had been working to revamp the drink menu, so we dove in. A fizz featuring Hayman’s Sloe Gin was zippy, spiked with lemon juice that sparked in my mouth. My partner’s Blackthorn, a gin version of a Manhattan with a lime, had orange bitters that gave it a sophisticated twist.
There were also wines, mostly from Italy and California, and a few beer selections, including Peroni.
A large family sat on the raised area toward the back, and though there was a child who did not exactly sound happy, the volume of music was just loud enough to blend in with the other noises so that a little crying here and there did not become intrusive.
First out of the kitchen: a lovely arugula and chickpea salad. The arugula was composed on a white plate with Parmesan and chickpeas, flecked with red onion. Though arugula can sometimes be assertive, this was on the gentle side, like the cheese, a good match to the vinaigrette. According to the menu, the vinaigrette was infused with orange but this offered just a wisp of flavour. Subtle and balanced, it was a good starter.
Next, arancini and then stracciatella. My fork cut crisply into the savoury deep-fried risotto balls and cheese oozed out. The inside was a bit overcooked but the sauce was delicious and tasted as if the tomatoes had come straight from the garden.
We found out the sauce, like the soup stock, was made in house.
The soup, however, wasn’t as flavourful and the bits of chopped parsley on top didn’t contribute substantially to the taste.
Our server had six or seven tables at one point but managed to project happiness and efficiency throughout the evening. She came to check on us regularly, and made sure we were good on drinks.
Next, she brought out a shallow white bowl with five large ravioli, bathed in the same delicious tomato sauce and stuffed with braised beef and barely discernible rapini which for me, in form, was too similar to a purée. A little natural texture would have been nice instead. Still, the rich beefy flavour spilled out with each bite, awash with umami.
We couldn’t leave without trying the pizza, cooked in a wood burning brick oven. The Niro, with pesto and chicken, was one of the best we’ve had in Hamilton. The crust was absolutely perfect, thin and crisp yet sturdy. Its pesto base added richness to the chicken, perfectly cooked broccoli (so rare to find on pizzas), ricotta and parmigiana.
It was a weeknight and we did not need to make a reservation when we called, but weekends might be a different story. The dining room was not quite approaching full when we arrived but eventually there was a good-size crowd and at that point our server was in full hustle. Since the room was large, with three distinct sections and the customers spread out, she had to travel to and fro quite a bit.
I couldn’t help but notice her positive manner. She commended our choices (“beautiful,” “perfect”) in a manner that put me at ease, as if she would simply take care of everything, which she did.
The tempo slowed a little around dessert time. We chose the tiramisu cake and it came out with a drizzle of chocolate sauce and a shake of powdered sugar on a square, white plate. The cake was so moist and decadent, it pretty much melted in my mouth, releasing strong coffee flavour and a hint of anise.
Old school to some means square — straightforward with tried and true dishes. While Spasso may not be considered cutting edge in the culinary scene, sometimes it’s hip to be square.