Nina's Trattoria |
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Nina’s Trattoria A photogravure of his parents’ wedding picture hangs alongside his grandparents’ and great-grand-parents’ portraits, framed prominently so as to be essential in our presence. For it is from his family (mostly his mother Nina’s daily breakfasts, lunches and dinners) that Nick learned the recipes and cooking techniques of Messina (San Pier Niceto village) that have jumped generations onto the menu at this collaboration of authentic Sicilian cuisine. Nick greets everyone warmly as if he were about to pick a jury. He seats you; he “voir dires” your culinary inclinations and expectations; he helps you order, makes closing arguments and then supervises his chef (or cooks your meal himself) in a bustling open rear stainless-steel silver kitchen. If local Pea Soup ($6) is the “zuppa del giorno,” promptly enter an order. The emerald broth is served in a steaming large white coffee cup. “The peas are local,” states Nick with pride, and as if sworn to tell the truth, knowing it to be so because he gardens and guards the restaurant’s vegetables and herbs himself. The soup is opaque and brawny with pancetta. A few spoonfuls endear your heart to its freshness while your lips remain sticky enough to lick. A hint of mint spurts from a drowned, hidden leaf, and the soupspoon is forgotten in favor of sipping eagerly and directly from the cup. “Peas of mind” is pervasive. Nor can you refrain from Roasted Cubanelle Peppers ($7) stuffed with bread crumbs and Italian herbs. Well-oiled, skinned, sautéed green pepper strands, just wide enough to be shamelessly covered in basil and cheese-infused crumblings, appear to beg you to undress and devour them. Each mouthful is verdant, softly crusty and faintly redolent of garlic. You wish not to swallow, and allow the mélange to linger and languish.
Italian opera is played pianissimo throughout the meal in the small, homey first floor dining room. Nearby South Philly neighbors are omnipresent, and conversations cross tables with lively banter. When you leave, head a few feet south and look over your shoulder, back to get a full view of the mural of Frank Rizzo. He seems to wink and sternly smile at you, just as he had done when he passed the District Attorney’s Office at 666 City Hall in 1968. |
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"QUO SPINOSIOR FRAGRANTIOR" | ||
Copyright 2011 Richard Max Bockol, Esq. | Back |