The wonderful meals you can enjoy in Italymight not be around forever. Between globalization, a farming crisis, and the demand (particularly by tourists) for out-of-season products, the way Italy makes and consumes its food is changing. Just check out the relatively-sudden prevalence of grocery stores (there are three within a 5 minutes' walk from me) or the crowds that pack the (yes, few and far between, but still existing) McDonald's in Rome for proof.
The same way you'd think twice before tossing garbage into the street, think about how your choices of restaurants and foods might impact the (culinary and natural) environment around you. Katie Parla gives some excellent tips for how to be a conscientious eater — in Italy, or anywhere.
Check out (my) verdicts for Rome’s most local, best-value places for coffee, gelato, wine, cucina romana and more in my article for the Guardian’s travel section, “Eat Like a Local in Rome.” Agree with my choices? Disagree? Feel free to comment below!
Most guidebooks to Rome vaunt Da Remo as Testaccio’s best pizzeria, noting its big crowds and classic Roman pizza. Well, okay. Da Remo’s pretty good.
But if you’re heading out to Testaccio anyway, my advice: Go to Nuovo Mondo instead.
I had a capricciosa on my last visit there, and it was great. The crust was thin and crispy, the ingredients fresh, and the sauce almost-perfect, if a little uneven. And if you’re looking to get a table within the first fifteen minutes (not a likelihood at places like Da Remo), well, there were still empty seats by 9pm on a weeknight. And (again, pretty shocking for a pizzeria), the waiters were actually friendly. Okay, maybe it was because I was a single woman, eating alone — a rare thing in Italy. But still.
If that weren’t good enough, the bill was even better: €12 for a pizza, three fritti, and water.
The downside is the decor. With somewhat awkwardly low plastic chairs outside, bright orange tables, and motel-style prints decorating the walls inside, it’s no-frills. The place looks like it hasn’t been redecorated in the 45 years it’s been around. But with pizza this good, it doesn’t need to be.
Nuovo Mondo. Via Amerigo Vespucci 15. Closed Mondays. For a map, click here. Note: If you’re visiting Rome for the first (or even second, or third) time, the prospect of getting out to Testaccio (a working-class neighborhood south of Circo Massimo) might seem a little daunting. But it’s easy. You can take the “B” line metro south and get off at Piramide, just 2 stops from the Colosseo stop. Or grab the 3 or the 75 bus, which also stop in the Colosseum area. From there, it’s a short walk to Nuovo Mondo. And the neighborhood’s always lively and feels safe, even at night.
You could do worse than “Al Pompiere.” In the heart of the Jewish Ghetto, the restaurant has been around since 1962 — no mean feat for an eatery anywhere in the world, but especially in a city with culinary competition as stiff as Rome.
In particular, it’s a place to come when you’re looking for classic cucina romana. What Rome-based food writer Katie Parla calls “the holy trinity of Roman pasta dishes” all make their appearances on the menu. My carbonara tasted a little undersalted and didn’t play quite enough on the pecorino’s (or the pepper’s) zing, but the consistency was perfect and the pasta fresh.
The biggest draw to Al Pompiere, though, is its fried offerings. The carciofi alla giudia (Jewish-style artichoke)had just the right crunch; the filetta di baccalà (fried salt cod) was soft and flaky on the inside, crisp on the outside. Then there were the fiori di zucca ripieni (stuffed zucchini flowers), which were, quite simply, grossly delicious: There’s nothing like squishing a piece of food with your fork and seeing grease spurt out. (All three are pictured above. Just looking at the photo makes you feel like you’re hurting your arteries, doesn’t it?).
What the restaurant lacked, though, was atmosphere. Set on the second floor of a palazzo and nearly empty for Saturday lunch, it felt awkwardly roomy — and with tablecloths covering the tables, a tad too elegant for the down-to-earth fare. With not an Italian dining in sight, I had to doubt Fodor’s claim that it’s a “neighborhood favorite.” Maybe I caught it on an off day. Or maybe it’s simply been around too long.
Al Pompiere. Via Santa Maria de’ Calderari 38, on Piazza Cenci. Closed Sundays. For more information, click here. For a map, click here.