Italian | Cane Rosso

If you like pizza and you spend time online, you undoubtedly know Cane Rosso, the Neopolitan-style pizzeria in Deep Ellum. Heck, you’re probably Twitter buddies with Jay Jerrier, Cane Rosso’s internet-savvy owner, who ought to write a book for restaurateurs called How To Use Social Media. Jerrier turned his former hobby into a career, making pizza on the fly in a mobile wood-burning oven he parked at locations around town. In February, he finally settled down in a vintage building in Deep Ellum, just in time to be part of the neighborhood renaissance. Weekend nights, there’s an hour wait that often taxes the skills of the staff. But Jerrier has the passion that makes pizza more than ...]]> Where to find some of the city’s greatest bites to eat.

Italian | Cane Rosso

If you like pizza and you spend time online, you undoubtedly know Cane Rosso, the Neopolitan-style pizzeria in Deep Ellum. Heck, you’re probably Twitter buddies with Jay Jerrier, Cane Rosso’s internet-savvy owner, who ought to write a book for restaurateurs called How To Use Social Media. Jerrier turned his former hobby into a career, making pizza on the fly in a mobile wood-burning oven he parked at locations around town. In February, he finally settled down in a vintage building in Deep Ellum, just in time to be part of the neighborhood renaissance. Weekend nights, there’s an hour wait that often taxes the skills of the staff. But Jerrier has the passion that makes pizza more than crust and topping.

Pizza dough contains yeast, a living thing, and Jerrier can read its mood, the way it behaves when it hits the oven, the split second it needs to come out. At Cane Rosso, they let their dough sit around for 8 to 12 hours until it acquires a sour tang that not only adds flavor but also resiliency. Cane Rosso has a certification from the Verace Pizza Napoletana, which dictates that its pizzas bake for no more than 90 seconds in a 900-degree oven. The edge of the crust gets blistered and brown, while the inside stays moist, with puffy, crispy pockets of air. The interplay of crisp and chewy, of toasty popcorn flavor and a saliva-inducing hit of salt, is without compare.

Toppings seem an afterthought, and, in true Neapolitan-style, they’re applied in stinting quantity to ensure the proper balance between topping and crust. Ever the diligent Google searcher, Jerrier procures his ingredients from brand-name sources, including Italian sausage from Jimmy’s in Dallas and prosciutto cotto from Salumeria Biellese in New York.

Pizza isn’t all that Cane Rosso does. Jerrier has added thickly stacked sandwiches, house-made pasta and gelato, and brunch with house-made doughnuts and ricotta pancakes. He also just hired renowned pizzaiolo Dino Santonicola, who, as a Naples native, knows the real deal. It begins and ends with pizza.

When it opens in Bethesda on March 28, Pizzeria da Marco will be blistering its Neapolitan pies in the same fashionable domed brick oven used by such top chefs as Mario Batali of the new Eataly in New York.

But the 4,800-pound, oak-burning baking statement designed by Stefano Ferrara, a third-generation craftsman from Naples, isn’t the new restaurant’s only distinguishing characteristic. With an eye on authenticity, general manager Alessandro Ferro has hired Naples native Dino Santonicola, 35 – a friend of Ferrara’s — to watch over the crusts that begin with super-soft and fine “double zero” Italian flour.

“I know what I’ve been doing for a long time,” says Santonicola, who’s been making pizzas for the past 22 years, beginning in the neighborhood joint of his youth. Until ...]]> By Tom Sietsema

When it opens in Bethesda on March 28, Pizzeria da Marco will be blistering its Neapolitan pies in the same fashionable domed brick oven used by such top chefs as Mario Batali of the new Eataly in New York.

But the 4,800-pound, oak-burning baking statement designed by Stefano Ferrara, a third-generation craftsman from Naples, isn’t the new restaurant’s only distinguishing characteristic. With an eye on authenticity, general manager Alessandro Ferro has hired Naples native Dino Santonicola, 35 – a friend of Ferrara’s — to watch over the crusts that begin with super-soft and fine “double zero” Italian flour.

“I know what I’ve been doing for a long time,” says Santonicola, who’s been making pizzas for the past 22 years, beginning in the neighborhood joint of his youth. Until he joined forces with his boss last fall, Santonicola resided in Seattle, where he opened the well-received Via Tribunali in Seattle in 2004. Ferro comes to the area from Bartolotta restaurant in Las Vegas; before he got busy with his latest project, he was a manager at Assaggi Osteria in McLean.

Decorated with mosaic tiles and iron chandeliers, Pizzeria da Marco (8008 Woodmont Ave; 301-654-6083; pizzeriadamarco.net) will seat up to 130 customers in 5,000 square feet of restaurant, including two semi-private party spaces. In addition to the chef’s dozen or so 12-inch pizzas, the menu will feature salads, calzones, charcuterie, 12 wines by the glass and gelato churned on site, making it “a little trip to Naples,” hopes the chef.

DIRECT LINK TO ARTICLE : washingtonpost

Last month, our team of researchers ranked Seattle’s Top 10 Neighborhoods based on everything from home values to school, parks and crime stats. This month, we’re taking this list one step further, by giving you our suggestions for sure fire spots to eat within these ‘hoods. From Queen Anne to Roosevelt, here are 49 restaurants where you can enjoy a meal while staying close to home.

(Note: Some of our top neighborhoods were heavily residential, with few or no nearby eateries. In those cases we’ve listed restaurants from nearby nabes.)

1. QUEEN ANNE Historic homes, views and a quiet neighborhood suburban feeling—with a vibrant shopping district within easy walking distance.

Canlis: ...]]> Here are some of our favorite places to dine or catch a bite in the top 10 Seattle neighborhoods

Last month, our team of researchers ranked Seattle’s Top 10 Neighborhoods based on everything from home values to school, parks and crime stats. This month, we’re taking this list one step further, by giving you our suggestions for sure fire spots to eat within these ‘hoods. From Queen Anne to Roosevelt, here are 49 restaurants where you can enjoy a meal while staying close to home.

(Note: Some of our top neighborhoods were heavily residential, with few or no nearby eateries. In those cases we’ve listed restaurants from nearby nabes.)

1. QUEEN ANNE Historic homes, views and a quiet neighborhood suburban feeling—with a vibrant shopping district within easy walking distance.

Canlis: Northwest. Swanky Canlis has been internationally celebrated for its wine selections as much as its expensive-but-worth-it dinners for decades. Now, with new chef Jason Franey at the helm, regulars may wonder where some of the classic dishes have gone, as much of the menu has been given a subtler makeover, with mixed results. Dinner Mon.–Sat. 2576 Aurora Ave. N; 206.283.3313; canlis.com $$$

Crow Restaurant & Bar: Eclectic. Crow’s warehouse-like room is warmed with hand-wrought iron and art in torrid colors, and chefs Craig Serbousek and Jesse Thomas’ menu is updated every few weeks to make the most of each season. Preparations tend to be simple but impeccable: prosciutto-wrapped chicken or lasagna with Manchego cheese wrapped in grape leaves on ratatouille. Dinner daily. 823 Fifth Ave. N; 206.283.8800. No Diners Club, Discover $$

How to Cook a Wolf: Italian. Chef/owner Ethan Stowell’s third restaurant is a wood-encased beacon for bright, clear flavors—lots of lemon, unguarded chiles—and disarmingly simple preparations. The small-plates menu showcases seafood, but Tavolàta’s beloved house-made pastas make welcome guest appearances. Dinner Thu.–Mon. 2208 Queen Anne Ave. N; 206.838.8090; howtocookawolf.com. No Amex or Discover $$

Via Tribunali: Italian. This dark and earthy Capitol Hill spot celebrates Naples’ pizza tradition with gusto, down to the plates, oven tiles, the flour, and even chef Espedito (call him Dino) Santonicola, who made pizza in Naples for more than 16 years. The succinct menu features pizzas with a delicate but toothy crust, with a few charry bubbles from the red-hot oven. Toppings are restrained but yummy. Dinner daily. 317 W Galer St.; 206.264.7768; viatribunali.com. No checks $

2. VIEW RIDGE Heart-stopping views of Lake Washington, the Cascades and Mount Rainier cause traffic jams at the intersection of 50th and 70th on clear, sunny days.

Restaurants in nearby Ballard and Shilshole

Bastille: French. Not yet reviewed. An all-star team—including chefs Shannon Galusha of Veil and Jason Stoneburner of How to Cook a Wolf, and legendary front-of-the-house man and Campagne alum Peter Lewis—have joined forces to bring Seattle its first real French brasserie, complete with rotisserie meats, frites, an easy-going vibe and a stunning zinc bar. Brunch Sun.; dinner daily. 5307 Ballard Ave. NW; bastilleseattle.com $ $

Cafe Besalu: Pastries. The heady scent of butter wafts out of James Miller’s tiny neighborhood bakery each time the door opens, inviting neighbors to come inside, and inspiring cross-town commutes. It’s all worth it: Miller’s croissants, pastries and quiches are nothing short of superb, and the warmth of the windowed storefront space lingers. Breakfast and lunch Wed.–Sun. 5909 24th Ave. NW; 206.789.1463. No Amex or Discover ¢

Delancey: Pizza. Not yet reviewed. Brandon Pettit traveled the U.S., tasting the best pizzas in the country and finding inspiration to create his signature pie at this petite wood-fired pizzeria. Along with NY-style pizza, look for seasonal roasted vegetables and desserts crafted by his wife, Orangette blogger Molly Wizenberg. 1415 NW 70th St.;delanceyseattle.com

La Carta de Oaxaca: Mexican. Easily Seattle’s most authentic Mexican eatery, La Carta’s menu is imminently craveable. You’ll be haunted by the albóndigas (meatball) soup, lamb birria (stew) and, of course, chicken in Oaxaca’s signature sweet, sultry black mole. The tequila/mezcal display is particularly well researched. Lunch Tue.–Sat.; dinner Mon.–Sat. 5431 Ballard Ave. NW; 206.782.8722; lacartadeoaxaca.com ¢

Le Gourmand: French. Chef Bruce Naftaly is Seattle’s granddaddy of local, seasonal cooking, and his refined French tasting menus draw special-occasion diners to the redecorated dining room, which glows with glorious white-on-white purity and twinkling chandeliers. A recently added 3-course dinner ($45) keeps the experience within reach, but those seeking a less formal bite can head to Sambar, the Naftalys’ lounge and restaurant next-door, for terrific cocktails and French nibbles. Dinner Wed.–Sat.; Sambar, dinner Tue.–Sat. 425 NW Market St.; 206.784.3463. No Discover $$$

Moshi Moshi Sushi: Sushi. Kevin and Tracy Erickson (owners of Queen Anne wine bar Bricco) opened their modern sushi bar in January. A 17-foot-tall iron tree lit with hundreds of LED-certified lights anchors the angular sushi destination. The composed nigiri are especially nice, and the cocktail list is worth seeking out. Also notable: two happy hours, which keep locals dropping in well past dark. Dinner Mon.–Sat.; 5324 Ballard Ave. NW; 206.971.7424; moshiseattle.com. No Diners Club $$

Ocho: Spanish. Owners Zach Harjo and Gelsey Hanson serve incredibly affordable Spanish tapas in their tiny 30-seat storefront. A chalkboard menu lists a dozen-plus dishes, but equal care is given to the drinks, including Harjo’s “$10 margarita.” Dinner daily. 2325 NW Market St.; 206.784.0699. No checks, Amex or Diners Club ¢

Paseo Caribbean Restaurant: Caribbean. No one makes sandwiches like Paseo: drippy, sloppy, messy and utterly indulgent. You can get chicken or prawns on your Caribbean-style hero, but the classic is roast pork, with seasoned mayo, cilantro and jalepenos for punctuation. Lunch and dinner daily. Outdoor seating. Lunch and dinner Tue.–Sat. 6226 Seaview Ave. NW; 206.789.3100 ¢

Ray’s Boathouse & Café: Seafood. Ray’s seaside dining room is an institution—on a clear day, the Olympic Mountains fairly jump into your lap. The upstairs café has arguably the best deck in town, complete with warm blankets handed out after the sun goes down. Café: lunch and dinner daily; restaurant: dinner daily. 6049 Seaview Ave. NW; 206.789.3770; rays.com $$

Veraci Pizza: Pizza. The traveling wood-fired pizza company that made the Ballard farmers’ market a year-round mecca has finally opened its first area pizzeria. It’s supremely casual, serving cracker-thin-crusted pizza—topped with whatever’s freshest at the market—by the slice or the whole pie. But the best part: Now you can sip a glass of Italian wine or a local brew (and stay dry) while enjoying your pie. Lunch and dinner Wed.–Mon. 500 NW Market St.; 206.525.1813; veracipizza.com ¢

Volterra: Italian. In its dark and bustling room, Volterra offers big Italian food served with boisterous American spirit. Some details are sublime, like the olive oil soup with cannelini beans and a chestnut-honey panna cotta. Brunch Sat.–Sun.; dinner daily. 5411 Ballard Ave. NW; 206.789.5100; volterrarestaurant.com. No checks or Diners Club $

DIRECT LINK TO ARTICLE : seattelmag.com

This is not just a pizza restaurant; the menu also includes pasta and lunch and dinner specials.

By Providence Cicero

Special to The Seattle Times

Tom Bailiff has been a CPA for two decades, but he’s always wanted to be in the hospitality business. Truth be told, he’d like to own a hotel, but it takes a lot of coin, he says, to do that.

Yet he must have dropped a bundle building Picolinos, the Italian restaurant he launched just as the economy tanked 18 months ago. He owns the nearly 100-year-old building that spans half a block on Ballard’s Sunset Hill. It was gutted to the bricks and, with the help of local ...]]> Picolinos in Ballard’s Sunset Hill neighborhood, offers various dinning experiences under one roof.

This is not just a pizza restaurant; the menu also includes pasta and lunch and dinner specials.

By Providence Cicero

Special to The Seattle Times

Tom Bailiff has been a CPA for two decades, but he’s always wanted to be in the hospitality business. Truth be told, he’d like to own a hotel, but it takes a lot of coin, he says, to do that.

Yet he must have dropped a bundle building Picolinos, the Italian restaurant he launched just as the economy tanked 18 months ago. He owns the nearly 100-year-old building that spans half a block on Ballard’s Sunset Hill. It was gutted to the bricks and, with the help of local artisans, transformed into an approximation of an Italian country villa.

Archways framed in wrought iron connect a series of gracious rooms trimmed with honey-hued reclaimed wood from ancient trees. Families tend to get seated in the pizzeria, as it’s called, where white tiles frame a wood-fired oven. At the marble counter, former Via Tribunali pizzaiolo Dino Santonicola stretches dough for Picolinos’ excellent Vera Pizza Napoletana.

Adults, smartly dressed, sipping cocktails or chianti, congregate in the lively middle room, where there’s a bar and a baby grand. “The Gallery” beyond is elegantly subdued.

Wine glasses arrayed on rustic sideboards, tall candles and long white cloths on well-spaced tables contribute mightily to the old-world charm, as do Luciano Busilacchi and Raffaele Calise, the dapper duo who greets and seats the evening’s constant flow of patrons with aplomb that only experience bestows. Their polish rubs off on the rest of the staff.

Calise’s Salute was Seattle’s prototypical Italian trattoria. His most recent venture, Cucina De-Ra, was shorter lived, but its closure last year also liberated Stefano Mazzi, now chef at Picolinos.

Determinedly untrendy, the menu opens with antipasti — fritto misto, carpaccio and mozzarella Caprese among them — followed by several pastas and relatively few “secondi,” but those entrees are augmented at lunch and dinner by specials. Portions are bountiful, be warned.

We had asked to share a salad, and the waiter thoughtfully had the kitchen divide an inspired mingling of lemon-dressed endive, shaved fennel, red onion and parmigiano sweetly studded with chopped dates. I wish he had advised us to share a pasta, too. Better yet, why not offer the option of half-portions?

Ravioli are splendid. Fried sage leaves garnish the intricate wraps of fresh pasta filled with goat cheese and ricotta. Burnished with brown butter, they are so rich the dab of tomato sauce is welcome.

But one encounters occasional lapses. Bitter burnt garlic took some of the joy out of gnocchi alla amatriciana, but I’d give those tender, tomato-sauced dumplings a second chance. Pappardelle suffered from a deluge of sage-kissed cream sauce rich with ground chicken and veal; it looked like soup.

An abundant vegetarian antipasti included olives and roasted peppers, along with grilled and marinated carrots, cippolini and eggplant, all fresh and vibrant, though the eggplant needed a little more softening.

Four petite lamb chops ringed a lovely luncheon salad. Rosemary and char flavored the grilled meat. Tucked among the vinaigrette-tossed radicchio, endive and romaine were pearl onions and raisins. The kitchen forgot the Gorgonzola; its sharpness would have been a fine complement.

Lunch plates are more reasonably sized, with prices accordingly lower. Cioppino alla Genovese ($34 at dinner, $17 as a lunch special) was chockablock with clams, calamari, shrimp and fish in a bright tomato-basil broth with a peppery bite. Eleven dollars seemed a bargain, too, for five jumbo prawns bedded on skillfully made saffron risotto.

Such sumptuousness leaves little desire for dessert, but pastry chef Manny Barquia’s wares are available anytime in the tiny cafe adjacent to the restaurant on the building’s north end. There you’ll find espresso, gelato, pastries, focaccia and soon perhaps wine.

Bailiff is thinking a wine bar might be a nice addition. He’s also contemplating cooking classes during summer on the newly tented and heated back deck, where a second pizza oven resides.

“I’m finally having fun,” he says. His guests are, too. Who knows? Maybe someday he’ll build a second story, add some bedrooms and finally get his hotel.

DIRECT LINK TO ARTICLE : seattletimes

Well it’s true. I went last night and walking in I saw the man himself working the pizza oven. Dino recognized us and came over the chat for a moment. I guess I thought that maybe Picolino’s had just hired Dino to consult. As it turns out Dino is no longer with Via Tribunali. He’s ours … all ours!!!

So Picolino’s took in some of the criticism and they retooled. In addition to bringing in Dino, they have a new Italian chef in the kitchen. The menu is ...]]> Given my love affair with Via Tribunali pizza I just had to see whether Ristorante Picolino’s had managed the pull off the rumored coup: getting master pizzaiolo Espedito “Dino” Santonicola (of Via Tribunali fame) to transform their pizza from good to great.

Well it’s true. I went last night and walking in I saw the man himself working the pizza oven. Dino recognized us and came over the chat for a moment. I guess I thought that maybe Picolino’s had just hired Dino to consult. As it turns out Dino is no longer with Via Tribunali. He’s ours … all ours!!!

So Picolino’s took in some of the criticism and they retooled. In addition to bringing in Dino, they have a new Italian chef in the kitchen. The menu is a bit different. Not tremendously fancy, but everything I saw looked and smelled really good. It’s trattoria food. The dining room adjoining the bar has been shifted around a bit and now features a piano. The wine list also looks more extensive and is split old world/new world. I like what they have done and I like their commitment to doing what it takes to get it right.

Overall we had a great great experience last night. We had a fritto misto that was largely fried calamari but also included fried prawns and vegetables. There was also some fried apple mixed in. mmmm. I used to love apple fritters when I was a kid. The pizza was everything I hoped for. I had the prosciutto crudo (fresh mozzarella, tomato sauce, basil, olive oil and paper thin slices of cured ham). My wife had the salame (basically a pepperoni pizza, but what a pepperoni!). We had a bottle of the Aglianico Alcione from Puglia. To finish things off we had a tiramisu and a lavender creme brulee with blueberries. The service was friendly and attentive and the kitchen was very timely.

I am looking forward to going back soon to try more of what the kitchen is doing now. If you are fans of pizza napolitano or just want a support what is turning out to be a classic neighborhood trattoria, check out Picolino’s. I think you are going to like what they are doing.

By Jonathan Kauffman

High up on the back wall at Giannoni’s Pizzeria, across from the TV and the graffiti-style mural, invisible to anyone waiting at the front counter for takeout, hangs a knowing wink: three movie posters.

Three-month-old Giannoni’s claims on its menu to serve “vera pizza napoletana,” and its combinations are named the Rustica, the Alla Salsiccia, and the Capricciosa. But the posters—Do the Right Thing, Scarface, and Saturday Night Fever—say New York, not Naples, which is backed up by the fact that you can buy the pizza by the slice and choose toppings like Canadian bacon and spinach.

No one wants to boast about making New York–style pizza anymore. Piecora’s and A New York Pizza Place staked their claims ...]]>

Whatever that may be.

By Jonathan Kauffman

High up on the back wall at Giannoni’s Pizzeria, across from the TV and the graffiti-style mural, invisible to anyone waiting at the front counter for takeout, hangs a knowing wink: three movie posters.

Three-month-old Giannoni’s claims on its menu to serve “vera pizza napoletana,” and its combinations are named the Rustica, the Alla Salsiccia, and the Capricciosa. But the posters—Do the Right Thing, Scarface, and Saturday Night Fever—say New York, not Naples, which is backed up by the fact that you can buy the pizza by the slice and choose toppings like Canadian bacon and spinach.

No one wants to boast about making New York–style pizza anymore. Piecora’s and A New York Pizza Place staked their claims decades ago, and though they’re not budging, they’re not flooded with competitors. Since Tutta Bella first opened in January 2004, Seattle has been all about Neapolitan pizza, complete with training and certification from the Associazione Verace Pizza Napoletana (translation: Association of True Neapolitan Pizza).

And yet: What comes to the table at Giannoni’s is a very good facsimile of a New York pizza. A large margherita—a classic of classics, just tomato, mozzarella, and scattered basil leaves—has a crust as thin and crackly at the center as a Saltine and a poofed-up rim that is 99 percent air. The cooks use an industrial mozzarella (not fresh rounds of buffalo-milk cheese, as in Naples), but the mozzarella spreads out into a thin top layer, the oils separating from the solids so that a million pin-prick holes appear, letting the color of the tomatoes bleed through. It’s a great cheese slice, and I’d be as happy to eat it in the East Village as I am in Westwood Village.

Owners Donna and Quentin Burns both grew up in Oakland, Calif., and hired a local restaurant consultant to help them come up with a crust that matched the ones they loved best from their youth. So actually, what the Burnses are doing is a California version of a New York version of vera pizza napoletana. That’s not so far from the origins, considering that the very first New York pizzaiolo, Gennaro Lombardi, was a Neapolitan immigrant who set up shop in 1905.

Giannoni’s is still working on whipping pizzas out at the high-demand periods (you may wait 45 minutes or more at peak times), and the salads—a gloopy Caesar, an antipasto salad covered in thick slices of cold cuts and canned olives—are pretty crude. Plus, the target audience of the bright, loud room is clearly teenagers. But if there’s one reason to patronize Giannoni’s, it’s that glorious crust. Even when you order a more complicated pie like the Capricciosa, whose mushrooms melt down and prosciutto crinkles up as the pie bakes, or the eggplant, spinach, and mushroom Campagnola, the pizza makers spread all the toppings evenly across the pie so that the underlying dough still puffs and crisps evenly, blistering here and there. You must—actually, you won’t be able to help yourself—eat quickly and passionately, because a half-hour after you’ve started, the crust has toughened, the cheese hardened, and your ardor exhausted itself.

For two steps closer to la vera pizza napoletana, you’ll have to go to the newest branch of the quickly expanding Via Tribunali. Caffe Vita owner Michael McConnell‘s three-year-old pizzeria has spawned a Queen Anne branch, with a Georgetown sister due in early 2008. The new location, located on Galer three blocks west of Queen Anne Avenue, has more of a tavern-meets-trattoria-meets-millionaire look than the original’s vaulted, gothic drama. Yet Tribunali II is almost as attractive, constructed of the same dark woods, wrought iron, and black-veined marble.

Tribunali chef Dino Santonicola is a certified pizzaiolo from Naples, and the restaurant has taken all appropriate steps to establish its authenticity through the AVPN. According to the associazione’s Web site, Via Trib II is the 21st U.S. restaurant to pay a start-up fee, plus annual dues of $200, and pass an inspection of the restaurant’s pizza-making production in order to call its pies “true Neapolitan pizza.” (America has one such authentic pizzeria less than Japan, by the way.)

I’ve written before about my frustrations with some of Via Tribunali’s pretensions, but its pizzas do come out consistent, good-looking, and tasty. No, sorry, I can’t let one complaint go: Giving your pizzas Italian names is perfectly fine, but to list all the ingredients in Italian, too? It makes the 98 percent of customers unfamiliar with acciughe and polipo fight with their own insecurities, debating whether to commandeer the busy waitstaff to translate the entire menu or just pick out the simplest pie they can identify.

Via Tribunali’s margherita D.O.C. (“denominazione di origine controllata,” a sort of regional trademarking) is the purest expression of what’s great about the Neapolitan style: A few pools of buffalo mozzarella and three or four whole basil leaves decorate the pie, white and green spots against the tangy red tomato sauce (which, by the way, must be applied in a spiral motion, says the associazione); the thin crust stays droopy in the center, while the narrow lip of the pie softly inflates and browns (regulations require it to cook between 60 to 90 seconds in a wood-fired oven whose temperature must approximate 450 degrees Celsius). Almost as tasty, though slightly darker and denser, is a salumi pizza tiled with thin slices of salty coppacola that brown and curl around the edges. They are good pizzas, and if you’re up for a $30-per-person meal with good service and wine, Via Tribunali fulfills its mission.

Authenticity isn’t as important to me, however, as a light, flavorful, char-kissed crust. Which is why, after five true or false Neapolitan pizzas, I had to revisit the one that has become my favorite: The margherita pizza at Filiberto’s Italian Cuisine in Burien.

Filiberto’s has been around so long that it was actually reviewed in the first issue of the Weeklythree decades ago (side note: The review was written by Starbucks co-founder Gordon Bowkerunder the pseudonym “Lars Henry Ringseth”). It’s been around so long that what was then considered authentic Italian food—dishes like bucatini carbonara, meat ravioli with red sauce, and meatballs offered on the side—would be considered authentic Italian-American now. And after 32 years in business, Mina Perry still runs the kitchen, though she’s not a vera napoletana; her family comes from Avellino, 15 miles away.

Pizza is a relatively new addition to the menu; it was only added in 1982. Sure, it can be a touch heavy on the cheese, and it’s not creamy, fresh-made mozzarella to boot, but, oh, that sauce! Just crushed tomatoes, so fresh-tasting the fruit’s natural sweetness comes through. And that crust—airy and delicate, but not so delicate that it sogs at the center of the pie, and lightly washed in alderwood smoke. Like all the best pizza, each bite is different: the sharp crackle of breaking crust here, the soft tug of melted cheese there. I hereby certify it delicious.

DIRECT LINK TO ARTICLE : seattelweekly.com

SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER RESTAURANT CRITIC

Open since November, Via Tribunali isn’t simply a new Italian-style pizzeria on Capitol Hill — it’s a Neapolitan-style pizzeria. One committed to using imported Italian products in order to make the closest thing possible to the thin-style pizza you’d find in Naples. This includes the pizzamaker (aka pizzaiolo); all ingredients for the pizza dough, sauce and toppings; and, of course, the oven — in this case, a white-tiled, dome-shaped, traditional wood-burning oven made with imported bricks. Everything, in short, except for the small logs of apple wood used to feed the flames that heat the oven that bakes the pizzas.

My favorite server here, a young Milanese woman, initially informs us that even the fire wood is shipped from Italy. My reaction ...]]> By PENELOPE CORCORAN

SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER RESTAURANT CRITIC

Open since November, Via Tribunali isn’t simply a new Italian-style pizzeria on Capitol Hill — it’s a Neapolitan-style pizzeria. One committed to using imported Italian products in order to make the closest thing possible to the thin-style pizza you’d find in Naples. This includes the pizzamaker (aka pizzaiolo); all ingredients for the pizza dough, sauce and toppings; and, of course, the oven — in this case, a white-tiled, dome-shaped, traditional wood-burning oven made with imported bricks. Everything, in short, except for the small logs of apple wood used to feed the flames that heat the oven that bakes the pizzas.

My favorite server here, a young Milanese woman, initially informs us that even the fire wood is shipped from Italy. My reaction — “Really?!” — must startle her. She double-checks with Via Tribunali’s sole official pizzaiolo, Espedito “Dino” Santonicola, the “primo uomo” of the premises. Clad in chef’s whites and purple bandana head wrap, Dino shakes his head. The wood, he informs her in Italian, is local.

The obsession with all things Italian makes Via Tribunali a natural intersection for foodistas, trendistas and snobistas. It doesn’t hurt that, in the tradition of the best underground clubs, there is no sign outside this molto hip Pike-Pine pizzeria to alert those less in-the-know of its presence. In addition to the entrancing aroma of pizza baking in a real wood-burning oven, there’s a hint of self-importance and exclusivity circulating in the air of this narrow, brick-exposed space. Add a dash of Capitol Hill-insider attitude — from customers and staff alike — and the combination could be off-putting.

My reason for coming here is simple: the food. Specifically, I crave the sweet black char and slightly salty aftertaste of Via Tribunali’s pizza dough after it comes out of that magnificent wood-fired Italian oven. That, alone, will keep me coming back for more.

The menu lists a dozen different thin-crusted pizzas ($9-$15). All are suitable for sharing or eating solo. All come with Italian tomato sauce and Dino’s signature, a single, centered basil leaf. All arrive uncut: You do the slicing with your own fork and knife.

My favorites are the “lasagna pizze” ($13) topped with fresh mozzarella, ricotta and thin soft-textured pieces of pale cooked ham (prosciutto cotto); “filetto pizze” ($11), simply adorned with fresh mozzarella and halved fresh cherry tomatoes; and “primavera pizze” ($11.50) fresh mozzarella, fresh arugula and a generous sprinkling of grated Parmesan.

I’m less enamored of the bland “tonno pizze” ($15), featuring what appears to be canned oil-packed dark-meat tuna (need I say “imported from Italy”?) atop a base of tomato sauce and fresh mozzarella. I like it better the next day, cold, with an added pinch of good salt.

The “salame pizze” ($13), topped with sliced pepperoni, may be the most “American” pizza of the bunch. It’s fine and it’s a missed opportunity. Anyway, when it comes to pepperoni here, I prefer mine in the calzone al salame ($14.50), thank you very much.

Dino, it turns out, makes a mean calzone or more, accurately, a trio of mean calzones. Two — the “al salame” and “Napoletano” ($13.50) — are what you’d expect: pizza dough folded over ingredients and baked as a semi-circular turnover. The third, the magnificent Vesuvio ($14.50), is this particular pizzaiolo’s true masterpiece. Its ingredients — pale cooked ham, ricotta, fresh mozzarella and slick canned mushrooms — work well, but they’re not the main draw. It’s that crust — twice as much of that glorious crust — that makes the Vesuvio a winner time and time again.

Starters are limited. My favorite way to begin the meal is to share an “insalata semplice” ($5), lettuces and arugula moistened with mustard vinaigrette, and an antipasti — either “misto salumi” ($11), an assortment of Armandino Batali’s cured meats, or the “prosciutto e mozz” ($10), prosciutto di Parma paired with sliced Buffalo-milk mozzarella. For me, the success of any Caprese ($9) — Buffalo mozzarella, tomatoes, basil — completely depends on the quality of the tomatoes; avoid it here until you definitely know the tomatoes are good.

Via Tribunali sells three desserts — all imported, all from Bindi, a Milano-based dessert manufacturer. I’m quickly hooked on tartufo affogato ($6.50), a ball of cappuccino gelato sprinkled with coffee-flavored meringue bits, filled with a gooey espresso-rich center then doused with a fresh shot of Caffe Vita espresso. At the recommendation of our Milanese server, I try the pastiera Napoletana ($7) and am delighted I did. Also known as “Easter cake” or “grain cake,” it tastes like the essence of spring: sweet pastry crust topped with ricotta, cooked wheat grains and candied fruit flavored with lemon zest and orange blossom water.

Reservations are accepted for parties of eight or more. There’s no sign-up list and, most nights, no greeting. Your best bet for scoring a table is to go between 5 and 7 p.m. After that, the coolerati show up and there’s likely to be a 35-minute wait for a table.

P-I restaurant critic Penelope Corcoran can be reached at 206-448-8391 or penelopecorcoran@seattlepi.com.

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