ReallyGoodWriter | Food • Writing • Poetry Iambic Cafe

food & poetry, but mostly the poetry of food

Food • Writing • Poetry

I was worried when the website for Ristorante Mosaiko dropped off the virtual map, but the place itself is still three dimensional, and chef Davide di Dio assured me that the website was only being redesigned, and would return one day under a new url. But not yet. There was some lovely raku on the walls and the Oltretorrente locals trickled in steadily until the place was humming a happy Parma air.

From my corner table I was reassured by another terrific meal that chef Davide has not worked himself into the ground, nor lost his imagination. The amuse-bouche – a tiny meat pie on a beetroot and balsamico base – was exquisite.

The Insalata d’astice, asparagi e arancia siciliana (lobster, asparagus and Sicilian blood oranges) was out of this world; if I’m not mistaken there were flecks of home-pickled ginger which made a gorgeous sensory contrast to the rest. And it was simply beautiful to look at.

How could I resist the Ravioli al baccala’ mantecato (salt cod ravioli), with shrimp, rucola and black olives? They were quite rich but I’d come to eat and eat I did. I also liked the bowl; at Mosaiko every dish has had its housing carefully planned.

And then Branzino in crosta di pane (sea bass) with zucchini – which was absolutely delicious – and black olive and pesto.

After my past experiments trying to make bonet myself, I thought I’d better try the real thing, which is reliably excellent here. And so it was again.

And this one’s for Howard (these guys live in a cabinet at Croce di Malta)

Yesterday’s lunch was a delight, in the clean bright and delicious world of Croce di Malta in central Parma.

I’d had a wretched supper the night before, ill-advisedly following an internet recommendation of Trattoria Corrieri, a place I’d passed a thousand times last year when I lived in Parma, but never went in, thinking it smacked of tourist haven. Too many tables, for one thing I guess. When I entered and saw it was apparently owned by the same people who owned Gallo d’Oro (which one of my classmates had been disappointed by), Enoteca i Merli – another nearby eatery – and a disco club, I should have fled, but it was Monday and not that many places are open; certainly none of my favourites.

So I ordered, intrigued, the Tris di Tortelli – a selection of three pastas, two of which are local favourites I’d been wanting in my ritual way to taste again (tortelli d’erbata and tortelli di zucca) and a third that sounded like fun (one made of spalla cotta, which is a delicious salumi). When I finally got my order (after it had been delivered to and half consumed by the man at the next table and whisked away and re-cooked and re-routed without a word of apology from the grim faced waitress) it was lacklustre; all of the tortelli were bland and uninteresting. The melanzane parmigiana which followed it was truly horrible: tough, poorly cooked eggplant and utterly lacking in visual or gustatory charm. The waitress never reappeared – ashamed I hope of her own and her kitchen’s performance – so I left, my only enduring gift a morning after headache from the house wine.

And this is what I got at Croce di Malta. Parmigiana di carciofi – made with fresh artichokes, and every bit as good as the one I had there a year ago.

Followed by zucchini alla scapece with smoked provolone, more a salad since it was served at room temperature. I was told the zucchini had been prepared with oil, a little vinegar and fresh mint; they like to make this with vegetables such as zucchini and eggplant. It was utterly amazing, the zucchini tender and lightly but thoroughly flavoured.

And to finish things off, a beautiful crema caramelata – freckled with vanilla and perfectly smooth and just the right size.

And of course, a caffe macchiato to finish, the milk properly frothed to the right silky consistency.