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FISTFUL OF PIZZA We “ciao” down at Pizza Lupo
Written by Matthew Bessen / Photography by Rachel Lutz / Andrew Kung Group About fifty years ago, American moviegoers got their first taste of the peculiar progeny of cross-cultural fertilization called the spaghetti western. Italian director Sergio Leone plucked Clint Eastwood off the Rawhide soundstage, handed him a six shooter and a script, and dropped him on a horse in the the Spanish countryside. The “sauce” topping off this cinematic gunslinging was composer Ennio Morricone’s tasty soundtrack. Suddenly, a distinctly American art form had been reinvigorated by an inspiration from across the Atlantic. This was exactly what came to my mind in the dining room of Pizza Lupo, seated across from a giant poster promoting the middle movie of the that trilogy, A Few Dollars More, where I considered how proprietor and chef Max Balliet had turned the tables on the fabled director. As his guests, Ellana and I learned how Max has been able to refresh his affection for authentic Italian cuisine with his own spirited American ambition. The Pizza Lupo menu lists a “housemade” sparkling limoncello. This immediately got our attention, as Ellana has produced a few batches of this limoncello concoction herself. The sparkling cocktail was as sweet as a lemon drop candy, but light and effervescent. I challenged Ellana, whose limoncello recipe never produces a result this delightful. We later had shots of limoncello with desert, confirming for me that the Pizza Lupo bar 72 slmag.net
master had “one upped” his Italian counterparts. My cocktail was a mix of scotch whiskey, spiced pear liquor, and a bitter American aperitivo named Bruto Americano. In Italian, when you tell someone he doesn’t look so well, the idiom translates as “you have an ugly wax”… una bruta cera. Fortunately, the ugly American spirit imparts a pleasing smoky flavor evoking the comfort of a roaring fire on a cold night. We started dinner with a plate of wood-fired oysters. Concealed beneath layers of garlic infused n’duja (a spreadable Italian salami), horseradish and pea shoot pesto, all lightly crusted by a patina of flame toasted Parmigiano _Reggiano, the smoky flavor of the delicious oyster flesh had to wait patiently with every mouthful, to make its triumphant debut after the other brash accompaniments had receded. Another Mediterranean favorite, fried smelts, had acquired a shimmering finish of tan and silver brushstrokes across their crispy surface. The buttery meat beneath had a delicate marine saltiness. The dish had been assembled with a festive cluster of capers ranging in size from peppercorn to elephant’s teardrop, and tangles of fresh dill alongside a ramekin of creamy harissa aoli. As a journalist committed to sharing the entire dining experience, I made the effort to collect bits of all these elements and then spritz my crowded fork with a shower of lemon juice, so I could best appreciate this satisfying appetizer.
