barrel of lard
I told my sister to look up the translation of the word balena, the restaurant we went to last night, knowing that it meant whale, which I thought was amusing enough in itself. She, of course, immediately saw the definition “barrel of lard,” which, well, fits just as well.
Anyhow, our visit to barrel o’lard was prompted by the generous gift card I received to the restaurant as a thank you for watching my impossibly cute “niece” (cousin’s daughter, not technically a niece, but easier to say than my cousin’s daughter) a few weeks ago.
First things first: the restaurant itself and the staff inside of it are gorgeous. Seriously, 3 people who could have been models greeted us at the hostess stand and I was in awe as I plodded away toward my table. The structure itself has probably 20-foot ceilings -- it’s very open and bright accented by an enormous vase and bouquet of flowers in the middle of the room.
Time for the things we ingested: um, there were absurdly good little flatbread crackers instead of bread, and I think it’s rare that a cracker can surpass bread just, like, in general, but damn -- these herbed beauts with big flakes of sea salt were 2die4. We begrudgingly shook our heads when the waitress asked if we wanted more... it was probably a good call, though, as I easily could have downed 2 dozen of them.
Sarah and I agonized over the wine selection, but not because we were torn between the peachier selection and the one with stronger notes of apple, but because we didn’t know what the eff we were looking at in the like 30-page book. We settled on a very balanced Slovenian wine (we are 1/4 Slovenian so it felt right) with a nice bit of mineral to it. Very delicious.
I wrote about those things because they contributed to the experience and yada yada yada, but let’s be real I just want to talk about the food. As Sarah previously mentioned, we knew exactly what we were ordering before we arrived:
Chicken liver mousse bruschetta w/ schmaltz onions
Octopus w/ escarole, chili, & lemon aioli
Orecchiette w/ kale & lemon crema
Sardinian gnocchi w/ walnut pesto, chard & ramps
Hen egg tajarin w/ sage & brown butter
#nailedit
Seriously though, all amazing. I’ll start with the bruschetta:
Like, OKAY. “Margot, they call it mousse, but was it really that different from pate?”
Imaginary questioner, you ignorant slut, yes it was. It was that different. This stuff was light and airy and dare I say FLUFFY. It had a fruitiness too it that made it so you felt less like a barrel of lard (courtesy of a balsamic reduction mixed in, we later learned, because OF COURSE) and then those SCHMALTZ ONIONS to bring you right back into lard barrel territory. I think this may have been the best thing I ate all night. Oh, and the bread was of course dense and perfectly toasted and brioche-y. Gr8 canvas for the mousse.
Ze octopus next:
Pardon the bad photo quality, was very intent on getting it over with so I could eat. This was a surprising one -- the chili was far more dominant than I was anticipating, but in a good way. It had an awesome kick that was balanced by the refreshing lemon crema and lemon zest. The octopus itself was nice and meaty, but may have been a tad overcooked -- I would have liked it to be a bit more tender. All in all, though, delicious.
And then, of course, the pastas.
Sarah took this picture which explains why it is pretty.
From left to right: Sardinian gnocchi, orecchiette, tajarin.
Starting with the gnocchi: very interesting. This was a very nutty dish, and not just because of the walnuts -- the pasta had a sort of earthiness to it that definitely made it a very unique dish. Hard to put a finger on. It’s almost like it was whole wheat pasta? At any rate, probably my least favorite pasta, but still tasty and a nice contrast to the other two.
Next, the lil’ earz. This is just like, yeah, okay, it’s lemon crema and breadcrumbs so it’s going to be delicious. And it was. Perfectly cooked and fantastic homemade pasta, creamy without being gloppy, little crispy crunchies in the breadcrumbs... mmm. So comforting. The kale wasn’t too kale-y, which is a good thing for kale to be. Deliziosa
And last but not least, the thing that had brown butter in it, which, surprise surprise, was like a big warm hug. Tajarin, as it turns out, is taglierini (a long noodle) in what I assume to be Piemontese dialect, because it’s apparently a Piemontese noodle. #pastafacts. I’m mad at myself because we saved this one for last, so it wasn’t piping hot when we ate it, but still. It’s as good as you would expect given the ingredients, which is really effin good. Just so cozy. And I said to my sister, “I could totally recreate this,” but then she, with her infinite wisdom, was like well yeah, but it wouldn’t be as good without this specific pasta. And she was right -- the homemade pasta was so key to the whole experience. Tender homemade noodles are just as good as it gets.
So that’s all, folks! Very much looking forward to returning and perhaps trying the pizza next time. Or just getting 10 orders of chicken liver mousse. Whatever. Peace out