Restaurant Review: Nonna

Nonna is a place I’d take even the most chauvinistic of Italians. The wine list, all Italian, is sorted by region. Desserts are classic and restrained. And in terms of pasta, it’s generally superb. So a recent visit surprised me. Chef-owner Julian Barsotti’s characteristic lightness and delicacy of hand were there in the tortellini. Their semi-transparent folds were tucked tenderly as bedsheets around a perfectly seasoned ricotta-chard filling, with a light butter sauce livened by lemon and green garlic. I closed my eyes in bliss. I bit hard, though, through thick, all-too-al-dente curls of gemelli pasta sauced with a simple, tender, flavorful oxtail ragout and dusted with Parmesan. The day’s menu burst with spring. But a green-strawberry gazpacho was delicate only on the first cool, jade-green spoonful until sherry vinegar took over. And so very little about an English pea sformato with a grainy texture, hardened Parmesan fonduta, and faint whisper of fresh peas conveyed the lushness of spring. Small execution errors in dishes like this were jarring. But all was erased with a pizza, which blazed out of the oven, lightly sauced, char-edged, thin-crusted, with saucers of house-cured, Tuscan-style fennel salami, smoked caciocavallo, plum tomatoes, and a fine dice of fresco chiles. Here was Nonna. Here, again, was bliss.