The 20 Best L.A. Italian Restaurants – Part 6 of 10
Article: Jonathan Gold • Photohraphs: Anne Fishbein - February 13, 2007
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Bologna the Fat
In Bologna, one tends to eat very well on the prosciutto, Parmesan cheese and mortadella (aka bologna) of the region, on creamy emulsions and chickens stuffed with butter, on long-cooked ragus that incorporate the entire barnyard into a few tablespoonsful of sauce. It is not for nothing the city is often called Bologna the Fat. Il Moro, which recently transformed itself from a better-than-average office-building restaurant to a center of Bolognese cuisine, may be the only place in Los Angeles where you can taste the cooking of the region — the tiny, meat-stuffed cappelletti floating in a deep-yellow capon broth, the baked lasagna enriched with a wheelbarrowful of bechamel, the house-made pasta, alive under the teeth, buried under an ultradense sauce fashioned from tomatoes and minced pigeon. Prosciutto and salami are served in the traditional Modenese way, with gnocco, oblong, unsweetened beignets that would be equally appreciated by New Orleanians and by Homer Simpson. Tucked into the corner of the Westside where you might least expect a restaurant, busier at lunch than at dinner, it backs up onto a rather romantic patio, has an attached wine bar with occasional live music — and is usually pretty easy to slip into without a reservation even on a Saturday night. A useful restaurant.
11400 W. Olympic Blvd., W.L.A., (310) 575-3530.
Clean, Well-Lighted Place
For years, I was almost alone in my lack of affection for Angelini Osteria, a popular, reasonably priced café with respectable versions of Roman trattoria classics like saltimbocca, spaghetti carbonara and pollo alla diavola. I went to the Osteria when I was in the mood for a decent scottadito, a plate of carbonara or wood-cooked pizza, like everyone else, but I'd always thought of it as a restaurant without passion. The owners of the best osterie in Italy find purpose in repetition of classic dishes, preparing the same few dishes for decades, maintaining the living fabric of civilization. Gino Angelini is basically a creative chef, a guy who likes to put his stamp on dishes rather than preserving traditions. But as his nearby restaurant La Terza (The Third One) came into its own, it has become obvious that the osteria is a release for the chef, a place where he can serve less elaborately garnished versions of his dishes to people who love them, fuel a happy lunch crowd with pasta al limone and tripe (pasta with lemon and tripe), serve oxtails on Thursday nights. Angelini Osteria is not an especially serious restaurant, and a respectable home cook can probably replicate most of its dishes, but sometimes you are in the mood for artistry, and sometimes you just want to have supper.
7313 Beverly Blvd., L.A., (323) 297-0070.
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Going green: Angeli's pizza al pesto with pine nuts, parmesan and onion
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The Fresca (Fresh) Generation
Evan Kleiman's Angeli Caffè crystallized the affinity of Angelenos for casual Italian cooking — the spaghetti alla checca, roast chicken and minimally garnished pizza that a Sienese teenager might eat for dinner at the trattoria down the block on the nights his mother didn't feel like turning on the stove, but which was essentially unobtainable to those of us on this side of the sea. The books Kleiman co-authored with Viana LaPlace — Cucina Fresca (Fresch Cuisine, or Fresh Kitchen), Pasta Fresca (Fresh Pasta), Cucina Rustica (Rustic Kitchen, or Rustic Cuisine) — were immediately absorbed into the database of every caterer and deli-case manager in America, and her aesthetic of simple, accessible freshness became our aesthetic. Suddenly, one out of three restaurants on the Westside turned into a neo-Tuscan caffè, and the city, then the nation, became awash in warm panini (Italian-style sandwiches), salads dressed with balsamic vinegar, spaghetti aglio e olio (noodles with garlic and olive oil), tiramisu, biscotti — almost none of which were even remotely up to the standard set by Angeli's rustic simplicity. The restaurant's heat may be decades behind it, and Kleiman's repertory of artisanal olive oils, summertime bread salads and goat cheese pizzas may no longer be novel, but sometimes there is no place you would rather be than behind a table at Angeli, contemplating a glass of Sangiovese and starting in on a plateful of ravioli with melted butter and sage. And they deliver!
7274 Melrose Ave., L.A., (323) 936-9086.
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