There’s a certain, almost indescribable feeling I get when I’ve made a distinctive discovery, literally finding an as-of-yet unsung restaurant and knowing, by the time I leave, something indelibly wonderful will have transpired within that moment of my life.
I’ve felt such excitement several times throughout these last couple years. At a small yet familiar Chester County Italian gourmet market called Montesano Bros. where only a handful of savvy (and grateful) locals even realize that as evening rolls around, the brothers, if you ask, will kindly prepare a sumptuous made-to-order Mediterranean supper to go with your favorite bottle of whatever. Within the shoebox confines of another intimate Italian, this one a miniscule eatery called Angelina’s Italian Kitchen, with a feel and setting that is more row home Brooklyn than street-side Pottstown. And, just last weekend, when I stumbled into an unassuming down home southern café in Ambler called Sweet Bytes, where you’ll find the most delicious fried catfish, collard greens and sweet potato pie. (I’ll dish more on that one in 2009.) What makes these glimmering gems so thrilling to me is that they each have “IT.”
“IT” is a good energy and a welcoming aura, fine fare that has components of homespun originality, and best of all, the warm-hearted people who run them that genuinely care about their guests.
Which leads me to a simple strip center that holds a tiny oasis amid the culinary desert that is northern Chester County; let me take you to Vittorio Ottaviano’s place.
This Roman-born immigrant and his young daughter, Angela, run Trattoria Vittorio, set within the Suburbia Shopping Center, just a couple-minute ride from the Route 100 South exit of Route 422.
Prior, the storefront space had been occupied by chef Mike Pezillo and his wife, Kristen, who operated their Café Mosaic with fine dining aplomb for almost a decade.
Too fine, perhaps. Though the talented chef produced truly excellent fare, the pricy menu seemed a bit too lofty for an area that otherwise boasts the gritty Coventry Pub and a LongHorn Steakhouse. So, sadly, Mosaic unraveled and by last summer it was gone.
Three months ago, Vittorio’s Trattoria entered the dining diagram. It would be exactly what that area needed: affordable, casual and Italian.
You’ll only need one slurp of the steaming strachiatelli soup; a single, rousing visit to your table from Vittorio; some of that good milky veal; and by meal’s end, a sweetly jet-fueled shot of his homemade lemoncello to know that this place has “IT.”
The stylish drop ceiling mosaic and the curved wall divider are the last-occupant’s remnants, though now, the room is warmed with soothing oil painted and print landscapes that are meant to convey the feeling of being in a casual trattoria along the Florentine countryside.
Friendly staffers provide convivial greeting as you’re offered a complimentary glass of wine to start you out. A basket of bread and a generous dish of olive oil and garlic marinated capanata are placed in front of you. And if you’ve come on a night when there’s live entertainment, you’ll be serenaded by nearly-Frank Sinatra himself.
Ultimately, a restaurant is only as good as its kitchen. Within that speck of a space toward the rear resides chef Ettore Antillo, able and Italian-born, offering his Abruzzi-inspired creations, gleaned, in part, from time spent at such notable names as the famed Il Mulino and Fort Lauderdale’s Mezzanotte. Somewhere along the way, Antillo met Ottaviano, and the magic began to brew.
His soups are among the best my wife and I have ever enjoyed. The deep chicken base of an invigorating pasta fagioli surpasses even our respective grandmothers’ past pots of life-affirming goodness. Hard to admit, but true-true.
Salads are fresh and—get this—they each have made-fresh dressings. Not only do I detect real anchovy paste and Worchester sauce throughout the Caesar salad (if I had a nickel for every bottled Caesar I’ve been served, grrr…) and, too, the spinach with watermelon and goat cheese has true raspberry flavor to the dressing, instead of that artificially sweetened stuff that’s seemingly everywhere these days.
The grilled calamari appetizer is simply prepared and delicious as is the prosciutto with cantaloupe (which, admittedly, wasn’t quite ripe enough).
Entrees we tried during two recent visits included the veal piccata, chicken marsala, a tender grilled salmon Romano, cheesy tortellini pomodoro, and most notably, the lightest, fluffiest, gooiest and, possibly, the finest lasagna we’ve had the pleasure of Hoovering.
Desserts, as one would expect, are also homemade. Those rummy, mascarpone laden lady fingers, a shot of espresso, followed by that lovely lemoncello digestive. Are we really in a nondescript strip center on the outskirts of Pottstown?
The heartwarming part is that we are. It doesn’t have to be South Philly, or Little Italy, to be so spectacularly appreciated. Vittorio Ottaviano (who looks and sounds just as you would expect someone who runs an Italian restaurant and possessing that name), he’s “the little guy,” a small guppy swimming in the big stream of restaurant-owning sharks and whales. He’s there every day, even during off-season lunchtime hours, striving to bring in more day trade. He’s the one who makes the daily trek from his home nearby, down to those South Philly food purveyors, and then back again. To Vittorio, public relations means going from table to table and advertising is a small rectangle in the corner of page A5 in the local paper.
All the more reason for me to be so thrilled at discovering and then touting his nice, friendly restaurant.
Because, if you go, I know you’ll too discover that Trattoria Vittorio has that undefined-able, intangible and inexorable aspect called “IT.”
And this place has copious amounts of “IT” going for it.
