Next up was the famed polenta (fontina-filled) with wild mushrooms. Creamy and delicious!

Time for pasta, and our choice was the shrimp and lobster pommodoro with strichette pasta (squid ink and saffron).

And for a meat course, it was the wild boar with gorgonzola sauce. While desserts looked good, the gorgonzola sauce sufficed for a fulfilling ending this particular evening…

Ogasawara came out strong, winning points with a poke-like preparation served up in a martini glass, which included salmon roe and crispy salmon skin in addition to the raw salmon pieces. I also gave him a slight edge for the second course, but then Hahne served up the best dish of the night for the final course: squid ink pasta with cured salmon as part of a squadron of seafood, including Kumamoto oyster, ahi, and scallop.

Based on points, the judges rated this battle close to a draw, though if the courses were rounds and we judged as in boxing, Ogasawara might have had a slight edge. This seemed to be the prevailing sentiment, as the overall verdict showed Ogasawara edging out Hahne by the slimmest of margins, earning him bragging rights for supremacy on 45th Street. At least for the night. I understand that this was just the first Battle in Seattle–with more to follow.

Earlier this year, I raved about a bowl of brodo with pork tortellini and ramps that I ate at this gem of an eatery in Wallingford. When I stopped in again recently, I asked Chef Brian Cartenuto if he had a brodo going that particular night. He explained that the menu changes frequently, but beckoned me to sit at the bar to try something similar.

I’m glad I listened to the man. Out came a dish of perfectly cooked tagliatelle with a wonderful combination of pancetta, chanterelles, and chestnuts – all swimming in a shallow pool of comforting chicken jus. With Seattle temperatures dipping into the low twenties these days, I’m tempted to run back in more. Given the sense of seasonality at Cantinetta, that dish won’t be on the menu much longer. But no worries. I’m sure Cartenuto will be ready with another fabulous offering to takes its place.

But as we hustled to the bus stop on that cold, windy evening, I did a double-take, not believing what I saw. Was that an open table on a weekend night? An attractive spot in the window, looking out on the street, with a heat fan providing warmth?

How could we resist?

And so it was that we found ourselves at Tavolata—an Ethan Stowell joint. (At the end of this month, I plan to list some of the standout dishes of the year, and Stowell has one of them.) And I knew what I wanted.

Zeppole.

These bite-sized beauties are essentially doughnut holes that are dusted with powdered sugar. There’s a big bunch of them in the bowl, looking too numerous to eat in one sitting. Sure, zeppole are fried, but these are surprisingly light and airy, with a refreshingly lemony essence. Our server told us the zeppole are just about as good when reheated for breakfast. These, though, wouldn’t see the light of day. We ate ‘em all.

Fat. The perfect finish to a sushi meal?

It’s no secret that I’m a big fan of Joule, near the intersection of 45th and Burke. I’ve had consistently incredible food there. And now, after some nibbles of Chef Brian Cartenuto’s cooking at a couple of recent events, I finally made it into Cantinetta, at 37th and Wallingford, and I’ve got another favorite in the same area.

These are both fabulous neighborhood restaurants, and Wallingford’s lucky to have them. They’re upscale enough to feel like going out for a special occasion, yet still down-to-earth enough to dress casually. High quality food at perfect price points. Why can’t I find places like this on the top of Queen Anne? Yes, I’m jealous.

While Joule has counter seating (perfect for solo dining, or for two who enjoy each other’s company and watching the chefs in action), Cantinetta has seating for eating al fresco. I opted, though, to enjoy the indoor light and open feeling of the rustic yet contemporary dining room.

Some might say that I’m commitment-phobic when it comes to ordering food, but sometimes I like to let the chefs strut their stuff—choosing what they think is best. This alleviates concern about making good choices, and usually leads to new discoveries. Chef Brian Cartenuto was more than happy to send out samplings from the menu.

Who can argue with oysters as a starter, here spiked with lemoncello sorbetti? The next dish, though, provided the first revelatory moment of the meal. A plate of avocado, grapefruit, cured olives, and chilies is just the kind of dish I love, with different textures and tastes—spicy, briny, and bold. We also enjoyed other antipasti selections:, a “tonnato” of slow-roasted pork loin, and grilled panzanella with green beans and tomatoes.

Three selections from the primi part of the menu followed. My first bite was of a big-as-the-plate ravioli, which I enjoyed. Initially, the saltiness of the pancetta seemed too strong, but it was nicely balanced by the sweet, caramelized onions. While I’m not the biggest gnocchi fan, Cartenuto’s gnocchini were divine—with more potato flavor than any I’ve ever had—and served with spinach, tomatoes and a gorgeous scoop of fresh ricotta.

But best of all was the Carleton Farms pork tortellini, charred ramps, and “molla brodo,” which simply bowled me over. Brodo is broth—that I understand. Molla, though, seems to be something that Cartenuto came up while playing with Babelfish. Maybe a mistake, but if it means food this good, then bring on more molla. I loved the pasta and the earthiness of the ramps (and some other grilled vegetables), but it’s the broth that made this course a real winner. Cartenuto said the dish is an homage to his mother, who always made tortellini from scratch and served it in a simple soup base. (He added that it’s a spin on pho, noting the Vietnamese soup’s popularity in Seattle.) I say it’s simply delicious, and endlessly drinkable—even at the tail end of a filling, fabulous meal.

I couldn’t resist trying one from the secondi section, and enjoyed hanger steak with artichokes, waxy beans, and pesto. My first bite was grisly, but the rest was more tender—and a perfect vehicle for the zesty pesto. I barely had room for dessert, but was ready for a sweet ending, so said “Surprise me.” Surprise indeed. In addition to cheesecake flan, Cartenuto sent out some basil pound cake that he might add to the menu. I’m seeing basil in more and more desserts these days (I’ll soon tell you about a caprese-like crème brulee I ate recently), so I worry that it’s getting overdone, but here I wanted it to have a stronger presence, as it would be a good counterpoint to the accompanying strawberry gelato and strawberry cabernet compote.

I suspect Cartenuto is the type who welcomes feedback on his food, as he explained to me that his vision is to take classic dishes and spin them in a new way. In this way, Cantinetta is a success. It’s family-influenced dining that feels homey yet sophisticated—fresh and full of flavor. In the past year, I’ve been from Spiga to Spinasse, and Bizzarro to Barolo. Good Italian eats, all. But Cantinetta might very well be my favorite.

All of the dishes are in the photo gallery below. (Clicking on the photos enlarges them.) And check out this debut video (I bought a Flip Mino, but might switch over to a Creative Vado), which captures Cartenuto and part of his team in the kitchen:

We rarely go out for Italian food, opting instead to make it at home. A plate of pasta is emergency food for us, as we can whip up a mean puttansesca in no time at all.

That said, Spinasse is no ordinary Italian restaurant, and its pasta is pretty extraordinary. But more on that in a moment.

First up was the antipasto misto della casa ($28). It’s an ideal sampler of the six antipasti items on the menu, great for the first-timer to the restaurant. We especially enjoyed the sliced cold poached veal and the salad of chicories and marinated pheasant, but found the anchovies to be a little too salty.

This we ate at one of the communal tables, as the counter was full. Free advice: Wait for a counter seat if you want one. We were told it would be close to an hour to sit there, only to watch as seats opened up just fifteen minutes later. Fortunately, our served sent us over for the next round of open seats, where we waited for our pasta and took in the sights, sounds, and smells of the kitchen – which is why we generally like counter-seating.

While the family-style menus were tempting, we opted for a la carte as we wanted to try two pastas. And we were glad we did. First was tajarin (fine cut egg pasta), which we had with ragu ($19). Very delicate noodles with just the right amount of meat and tomato clinging to them. Fun for the first few bites, but less enduring and enamoring than the maltagliati (random wide cuts of pasta) with chickpeas and prosciutto ($20). Wide noodles please us, and these were perfectly cooked with just the right bite to them.

The pasta portions are not so large, but two orders for two people after antipasti and bread had us fairly full. A side with all this would have sufficed (perhaps some roasted vegetables), but our server had earlier suggested otherwise, and housemade goat sausage with lentils and kale ($24) had caught our eyes. These balls of sausage were glimmeringly beautiful, packing a meaty, somewhat salty punch blunted well by the luscious lentils. We took a few tastes, and packed the rest for the next day’s lunch.

Spinasse is a bit pricey for Italian food, but you’re paying for quality ingredients and preparation. Based on our two-part dining experience, we definitely recommend sitting at the counter. You’re not in bantering range of the kitchen crew, but you can see your pasta-maker cooking up his creations. We know that’s Chef Justin Neidermeyer, but with his ruffled hair and overall look, we couldn’t stop laughing at the thought of Jack Black in the kitchen. To the master of the school of pasta, we simply say, “Bravo, Maestro.”

Cross-posted on Seattlest, where “we” = me.

Tidbit, the north Capitol Hill restaurant that’s Italian meets Spanish in a non-fusion fashion, offered us tidbits aplenty during a recent visit. And it was in the tidbits called tapas that we found our favorites—with carryover to other parts of the menu.

Owners John van Deinse and Nicola Longo are welcoming and as warm as the orange walls that highlight the intimate dining room, and we turned over control of the menu to them. We confess we loved the little crock full of rosemary-scented sweet potato fries. Addictive—and fun to dip in a side of whole grain mustard aioli. The aioli was a wonderful match, and would later be a perfect complement to shaved pieces of incredibly tender, grilled leg of lamb.

Equally impressive, and total eye candy, were a couple of arancini—orange balls (arancini means little oranges in Sicilian) that are actually fried risotto cakes made with saffron and tomato, full of melted mozzarella inside. What made these special was the accompanying salsa sciué sciué, (one of the table’s tidbit of trivia cards—nice touch!—told us that sciué sciué is Neopolitan for presto, presto). We think we detected this quick tomato salsa in the garlicky sauce of the shrimp tapa, and wished we had some for the baccala entrée—an interesting spin on fish and chips featuring salt cod and fried zucchini that would have been great to dip in some sauce.

Sauced is what we almost became after drinking the grappa and cello flights that came with dessert. The limoncello went well with the lemon tartufo (gelato with a limoncello cream center), though the nocello (walnut and hazelnut) was most interesting and refreshing. Even more refreshing were Nic and John, who are proud of their place and the plates they serve. Forward or backward (hey…the word “tidbit” works that way—in both directions!), the menu is full of items that, while not home runs, are all solid hits—choice morsels that are certainly pleasing.

Originally posted at Seattlest (where “we” = me) on June 30, 2008.

Growing up, we never heard of har gow, but we did know ravioli. Unfortunately, it sometimes came in a can. So, when we went to Dulces Latin Bistro and our waiter recommended the roasted red pepper ravioli as the must-try starter (along with prawns a la diabla), we crossed our fingers in hopes that Chef Julie Guerrero’s version would be better than that of our old buddy: Chef Boyardee.

No contest.

These ravioli regaled us. She did the dough right. Perfect texture, with just the right bite, followed by a different sort of bite: that of Mexican chorizo. We loved the spiciness, tempered by the rest of the filling of ricotta and mozzarella cheeses, and served with a well-matched cilantro-tomatillo cream sauce. A welcome wake-up call to kick off the meal! We reached for our wine (they have quite a collection) and relaxed, enjoying the comfort of the candlelit room.

The ravioli would turn out to be the highlight of the meal, and we’re glad to see them as a mainstay of the menu. We hope Dulces will do its Latin dance by daring to add dynamite to some of its other dishes as well. The spring menu is out, and the duck and lavender sausage looks enticing. Take note, sweet Dulces: spicy, or anything bold, is sweet to us.

Originally posted at Seattlest (where “we” = me) on March 24, 2008.

That said, I appreciated the chance to revisit Barolo (they performed well in a Sound Dish-Off earlier this year) without expectation to write about it. Then, I was surprised to like it so much, that I feel compelled to tell you why.

The reason: Branzino alle Olive Bianche e Pomodori Appassiti. The rest of the food that evening was fabulous, and I ate a lot without feeling overstuffed, but this Chilean sea bass dish was something special. Perfectly cooked (and while I love fish, it takes a lot to impress me), with the Castelvetrano olives imparting a perfect briny-ness and the tomato confit packing a powerful “out of season” tomato taste.

Barolo’s a beautiful place, but for me, the plate’s more important to the place. I’m pleased to report that the branzino is a thing of beauty. And it’s on the menu for the rest of the month.

What I didn’t realize upon entering is that Proof on Main is inside the 21c Museum Hotel. The restaurant itself houses some fascinating contemporary art, but during dinner it’s nice to take a break and stroll through the main museum, which is open 24 hours. (You’ll need to do this, anyway, to get to the bathroom, with the men’s bathroom really something special.) I found the dining room to be upscale and yet comfortable – smart and stimulating.

This is one of those restaurants where solo dining is a detriment, as it’s impossible to try many of the tempting dishes. Also, business matters meant that I couldn’t get there until just before the 10pm closing time, so I didn’t necessarily want to fill up on too much food at that late hour. I had a hunch the tripe would be perfect, and I picked out an order of Brussels sprouts as a side dish. The tripe is boiled for 6-8 hours in water, vanilla bean and vinegar, followed by braising action with San Marzano tomatoes, carrots, onions, red wine and aromatics before being baked a bit at 600 degrees. Very tasty (though not with the tripe texture I typically desire), and served with some fettunta which I used to sop up the sauce.

And the Brussels sprouts were fabulous! They were perfectly cooked, boosted by bacon and a little fruity sweetness. (The kitchen has been using either currants or cranberries.) I loved the dish so much that I tried to replicate it tonight as a side to some roasted chicken and vegetables. Close, but I must be missing some secret ingredient. I’ll work on the recipe, or ask for help. Great restaurants are stimulating and inspiring in this way. I’m thrilled to have had this brief experience at Proof on Main, and recommend it highly while hoping to return myself some day – with more time to see the museum, and perhaps a stay at the hotel!