Trattoria Luzzi: At the Colosseum, a Good Option Among the Bad

 

Pizza capricciosa at Luzzi, a trattoria near the Colosseum, RomeEveryone seems to love Luzzi, a trattoria just down the street from the Colosseum.

Tourists love it because it has checkered tablecloths, waiters who speak English and are (gasp!) friendly to them — but who still yell at each other across the room in Italian, and an earlier opening time for dinner than most other 8pm-and-after restaurants.

Locals love it, although a little less, because the waiters are nuts but (usually) fast, and the
menu's cheap: €6 and under for most pizzas and pastas.

The only people who don't love it is foodies. That's because Luzzi is not for those of us who pick apart whether the guanciale tastes smoky or if the pasta is fresh, or who want a wine list (you won't find one here). Luzzi doesn't serve some of the best food in Rome. It doesn't even serve some of the best cheap food in Rome. (For that, see: places in San Lorenzo and Testaccio, including Il Pommidoro and Nuovo Mondo, and some in Trastevere, including Roma Sparita).

But Luzzi fits a certain need. That need is for a place that's fun, cheap, and reliably okay within a 10-minute walk from the Colosseum, an area where you can't throw a guidebook without hitting a terrible, touristy, overpriced place that caters to, and is filled with, people with their noses in the same guidebook. And some of its dishes are pretty good, including the amatriciana or fettucine alla bolognese (both €5.50), and starters like the octopus grigliata or the antipasto that you get yourself. Help yourself to the array of veggies and other goodies in the back, and you'll be charged depending on the size of your plate — this big plate cost about €4 (below).

Antipasto at Luzzi, RomeIn the evening, though, your best bet at Luzzi is the pizza (shown at top). It doesn't hold up to the pies coming out of Luzzi's neighbor Li Rioni, but then again, Li Rioni is a dedicated pizzeria, no pastas on the menu. Luzzi isn't. And even so, their pizza's pretty darn reliable, always with a proper thin Roman crust and fresh ingredients.

(Well, almost always. Never, ever order their pizza at lunch; it seems Luzzi's pizza chef is only on at dinner. So what you'll wind up with, instead, is a kind of undercooked, floppy monstrosity that scares away all the other pizzas on the playground).

So am I recommending Luzzi or not? If you're in the Colosseum neighborhood and are at risk of winding up in one of the other myriad and awful places in the area, if a friendly, bustling atmosphere is more important to you than if every dish is perfect, or if you're used to places where guitarists sing "That's Amore" to you and where spaghetti and meatballs are on the menu and you want to try something a little more authentic, then yes. If you're the type who likes to reserve dinners in advance and eat the very best of what Rome has to offer…mmm…probably not.

(That doesn't mean I don't love you, Luzzi!)

Luzzi. Via di San Giovanni in Laterano 88. Open for lunch and dinner daily except for Wednesday. 06 7096332‎. For a map, click here.  

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La Campana: A Classic, and Rome’s Oldest Restaurant

Oxtail at La Campana, near Piazza Navona, RomeLa Campana, a restaurant tucked away a few steps from Piazza Navona, claims to be Rome's oldest dining establishment. It was recorded as being on the same street all the way back in 1518 — a tough claim to match.

But since these kinds of claims are everywhere, particularly in a city as overrun with old establishments as Rome, that's not really why you should go.

You should go if you want to experience good, classic Roman food, or cucina romana, at not-bad prices, in the heart of the center. In an area where culinary mediocrity is so thick on the ground, that's pretty tough to find. Oddly enough for the neighborhood, it's not even fair to call La Campana touristy: While there are always tourists there, a number of businessmen are always taking up the tables as well, particularly at lunch.

That said, not all of my experiences at La Campana have been perfect. One more-mediocre experience included my rigatoni all'amatriciana (€8), a dish that was undone by the long strips of not-very-crisp-or-smoky guanciale, or pork jowl, each of which were at least two-thirds white fat.

But I've also had a juicy saltimbocca (veal wrapped with prosciutto, €12, shown below) and an excellent coda alla vaccinara (€12), at top, in a rich, delicious sauce and with the meat falling off the bone. That coda alla vaccinara, alone, made me vow to pay more visits to Rome's (maybe) oldest restaurant. Other classic dishes on the menu to try include the fettucini al ragu (€10), trippa (€12)and artichoke (€5).

Saltimbocca at La Campana, RomeSomething else I'll say for La Campana: The service is excellent. That's not something you tend to see in many moderately-priced Roman restaurants, particularly not those that have been written up as often as this one. But the black-vested waiters are unfailingly polite, and the service (usually) pretty fast.

La Campana. Vicolo della Campana 18. Closed Mondays. For more information, click here. For a map, click here.

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For Cucina Romana Done Right: Il Pommidoro

Pasta alla gricia at Pommidoro, Ro,eWhen I want cucina romana, Rome boasts one restaurant I can always count on for high-quality ingredients and top-notch dishes: Il Pommidoro.

Located in the student-heavy, graffiti-spotted San Lorenzo neighborhood (half-jokingly referred to by Roman residents as the “communist quarter”), Il Pommidoro isn’t on the track for most tourists. The clientele, almost always exclusively Italian, reflects that. But when it only costs €6 to take a cab before 10pm to Il Pommidoro from, say, the Colosseum, it’s a worthwhile venture. Especially when it’s for classic Roman dishes the way Il Pommidoro cooks them up.

Italian orange mushrooms, or amanita caesarea, at Il Pommidoro, Rome

One of Rome’s classic family-run restaurants, Pommidoro dates back to 1926, when the current owner’s grandmother turned her wine shop into an eatery. Aldo, the grandson, started working here at seven. 

Although the menu does have plates inspired from beyond the Lazio region, most of the food reflects those older Rome traditions. All of your classic offal is on the menu, from animelle alla cacciatora, or stewed sweetbreads (€12) to spiedone di pajata, the intestines of unweaned calves (€10). Try the porchetta as an antipasto; the sliced pork, shown below, is melt-in-your-mouth. Roast partridge, rabbit and duck also are on the menu, and much of it was shot by the Bravi family themselves on their hunts. (This was, perhaps, never made more real to me than when I took a bite of their pheasant last night, only to chomp down on something hard. It was shot.) 

Porchetta at Il Pommidoro, Rome

Pastas include all the classics, too, from carbonara (€8) to amatriciana (€8). And while a recent amatriciana was the only dish I’ve ever had there that I haven’t been completely impressed with — it was a little too watery — Il Pommidoro has made it up to me in the past with their other pastas. Most notable: The best pasta alla gricia I’ve ever tasted, complete with perfectly al dente pasta and smoky, just-crunchy-enough bits of guanciale, shown at top.

Always ask about their specials, too; you might come across something like the orange mushrooms, or amanita caesarea, shown above.

Il Pommidoro tends to be popular with locals, so make sure you book in advance. Unlike most other Rome restaurants, it has long lunch hours — until 3pm — so it’s a good midday stop, too.
Il Pommidoro's wood oven

The wood oven at Il Pommidoro, perfect for roasting those suckling pigs and rabbits.

 

Il Pommidoro. Piazza dei Sanniti 44, in San Lorenzo. Open for lunch and dinner daily except for Sunday. 064452692. For a map, click here.  

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Lo Scopettaro: Go, Maybe, but Not for the Carbonara

Lo Scopettaro in Testaccio

If I hadn’t ordered the carbonara, I might have left Testaccio’s Lo Scopettaro much more impressed. And feeling less like I’d just consumed a pile of bricks and several lead irons (although that was my own fault, being someone unable to take a couple bites and leave the rest untouched).

Lo Scopettaro is touted, by some, as one of Rome’s rustic, traditional tavernas, guaranteed to serve up good pastas for okay prices. RomaToday says that “for years it’s been a true institution in the capital, a sure spot for those who love traditional Roman cuisine.”

But I think at some point along those 80 years it’s been around, Lo Scopettaro may have started resting on its laurels. After all, from the crowd in there last night (mostly Italian, plus one or two tables of tourists), it seems like it can.

The good news about Lo Scopettaro: It has both outdoor and indoor seating, and the indoor section is, indeed, rustic and quaint. Its menu is packed with options for true cucina romana lovers, from nervetti di vitello (€8, and that’d be nerves of veal — yum!) to rigatoni con pajata (€12 for pasta with the intestines of a milk-fed calf). (Don’t worry, there’s plenty for less adventurous eaters, too, from a normal amatriciana to classic saltimbocca).  

The service was also surprisingly on point. With our reservations, we were sat right away and even given the option of immediately sitting inside or outside — whoa. We were served promptly and politely throughout the whole meal. For that, I give Lo Scopettaro big ups.

What about the food, you say? In a word: Uneven. The good tasted homemade, filling and yummy; the bad was bland. And our plates were half one, half the other.

An amatriciana’s (€9) spiced-just-right sauce was delicious (although the noodles were, ahem, most definitely store-bought… can’t imagine Grandma would approve). The muscolo di vitello (veal muscle), served in a thick tomato stew with carrots, was filling and tasty. But the chicory, one of only a couple of contorni in season, was undersalted and underspiced, even though we’d asked for it with lots of pepper.

The real disappointment, though, was the carbonara. Extremely heavy, it had a ton of cream and absolutely no bite. If the chef had added black pepper or salt, I couldn’t taste it. I was confused: After all, this was supposed to be one of Lo Scopettaro’s specialties. I saw plate after plate of the stuff leaving the kitchen, heading to other (Italian-speaking) tables. 

It was only after I’d slogged halfway through my plate, wondering if I was missing something or if it was an “off” night, when we overheard the DSC_0132following conversation at the table behind us:

Happy middle-aged Italian couple, tucking into their two plates of carbonara, to the waiter: “Please, tell us. What is the secret with this dish?”

Waiter: “We use a lot of cream and not very much egg.” (Could have told you that).

Couple: “It’s so good!”

Waiter: “Yes, most other restaurants do it differently, with more egg, but this is how we like it.”

These two were apparently regulars, at least if the free cherry pie they got had anything to say about it.

So: Regulars must come here for Lo Scopettaro’s carbonara, which apparently they like thick, creamy, and missing the egg, salt and black pepper that I usually associate with the dish — and which nobody else serves like that. If you can’t see yourself agreeing with them, I’d still say go to Lo Scopettaro — if you’re in the area, and if you steer clear of the carbonara.

Also be ready to fend off the waiter’s (very polite!) attempts to sell you on the tasting menu, which, at €37, seems pretty expensive for a “rustic” place in Testaccio, especially if not all those dishes are top-notch. As it was, our bill came to €53 for two, including a not-so-great bottle of the house red (€10). For cucina romana, that’s plenty steep enough.

Lo Scopettaro. Lungotevere Testaccio 7, in Testaccio. For a map, click here.

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