Restaurant Review: Taverna Romana (Roma, Italy)

Et tu, Brute?

These are famously referred to as the last words spoken by the Roman military and political leader, Julius Caesar, as he he was murdered by Senators and colleagues on March 15, 44 B.C. in the Theatre of Pompey (Teatro di Pompeo).

Why do I bring this up? Well, because the Teatro di Pompey is exactly 1.5 km, or 19 mins by foot, from Taverna Romana, which stands in my mind as one of the most important sites the city of Rome has to offer. While only in business for a mere 200 years, and thus 1,853 years younger than Mr. Caeser's fateful Ides of March date, it has quickly (all things are relative here, people) made a name for itself, at least in the opinion of this humble reviewer, as one of the best restaurants the city of Roma has to offer. But you won't find it in any guide books, and the owners want it that way.

(If you don't believe me about the 19 mins by foot, click here)

Taverna Romana is a family owned establishment, and has been during its entire 200 glorious years. Many of us can't even trace what our families were up to 200 years ago, let alone quote recipes from their kitchen. Thus, the charm this place exudes is as thick as the mascarpone from their delicous Tiramisu.

My first evening in Roma began with a hunt for dinner with Dangerbelle. Our private rental apartment was perfectly located on a quiet residential street just 250 meters from the Roman Forum. Perfectly calm, yet in the middle of it all. That was good, but also bad, as it meant we would most likely encounter the inevitable "Menu Turistico", those fateful words spelled out across restaurants' marquees that have all-too-often gotten the better of many a tourist. "Eh! Perfavore! Pizza+Insalata+Coca-Cola! 11 Euros! Menu Turistico! Prego!". No thanks. I don't fall for that anymore...

I expressed my determination, right off the bat, about finding a real place; a place full of locals and men with mustaches. As I began my self-glorifying diatribe about my uncanny ability to find those ever-so-tasty holes in the wall, it suddenly emerged, like a beacon - The Taverna Romana. It called to me from an unassuming street corner just a stone's throw from our front door.

"That, Dangerbelle, is it". My now famous words.

It was dark inside, with the time only half past six. But, the lights were on in the kitchen, and there was something a-cookin' inside, as figures were busy preparing for their 7pm opening time. (According to their window card, Taverna Romana welcomes guests for lunch between 12:30 to 2:30, and dinner from 7:00 pm to 10:30 pm.) We would be back, and it was a good thing we got back there just a hair past 7pm.

The moment we entered, the restaurant began to fill up, mostly with locals, and no doubt from the neighborhood (plenty of mustaches). The kind, elderly host/cook/proprietor/husband of an angry Italian woman sat us at a table in a small nook next to the kitchen and where they prepare the fresh bread baskets, desserts, and keep their meats chilled. The sites and sounds of the kitchen played out right in front of us (which couldn't have made me happier), not to mention an enormous, gorgeous cache of veal just over Dangebelle's shoulder - a delicious distraction throughout the meal. The table turned out to be a good marketing ploy, too, since the proximity of the Torta di Cioccolata was right next to my face as we ate, and I ended up ordering it for dessert.

The decor if this restaurant is absolutely simple, and it needn't be anything more than the walls with photos, tables with white table clothes, and wooden floors. It gave us the desire to eat simple, too: a pasta starter, and a meat second course, maybe a bit of dessert. Carafes of house wine (white or red) were at reasonable 5 Euros/liter. One of the greatest things about Italy, in my opinion, is the quality and taste of good ol' table wine. Not to say bottles of the better stuff weren't also available on their modest, but surely decent, wine list, but the carafe of red did the trick nicely for us.

Not wanting to complicate this beautifully simple experience, we asked the waiter/son of the owner for his suggestions. He informed me that I would be having fresh ravioli al sugo as a starter, and a lovely vitello arollo con funghi (roast veal with mushrooms) for my secondi. Dangerbelle was to enjoy a lovely linguine aglio olio topped with fresh garden vegetables, and no secondi, since she was not quite as hungry as me.

My ravioli was deliciously simple, stuffed with tasty ricotta and spinach, with delicious parmigiana undertones. The simple red tomato sauce had hints of basil and was done to perfection, and Dangerbelle's linguine was taken straight from a basket at the counter of that day's freshly made pasta. Just seeing that sent a warm feeling through me. I knew I was at home.

It's hard to dress up such simple elegance anymore than necessary, but these dishes were simply perfect - exactly what they needed to be, and with the fullest flavors their forgone creators could have ever possibly envisioned. When you are doing something for 200 years, I guess you just get good at it.

The roast veal came shortly after our plates were cleared, and it tasted as if it had been lovingly tended to as it roasted all day long, with the sauce perfectly complementing the soft meat.

Dessert consisted of the amazing torta di cioccolata which had been starting at me during our meal, and for Dangerbelle the homemade tiramisu. Both were simply amazing, and we immediately felt the additional weight we added because of their decadent and creamy textures - weight, though, which was gladly accepted.

We were sad to have only discovered Taverna Romana on a Saturday because they are closed Sundays, and we would not be able to try them again before we left on Monday morning. But, a second visit was gifted to us in the form of an airline error which forced us to stay Monday night in Roma, and depart only Tuesday morning. From the god Apollo himself, Monday's dinner was handed to us on a white table cloth.

Monday night, just as Saturday, we took our queues from the waiter, watching the place fill up with locals, and ordering the liter of house red. Knowing us from our first visit, he presented us with different choices, penne all'arrabbiata and straccetti colla rugheta (sirloin slices with arugula) to me, and paglia e fino al sugo (fresh pasta with colored greens and spinach, tomato sauce) and pollo col peperoni (chicken stewed with sweet peppers) for Dangerbelle. I mixed it up on dessert, too, this time going for the most delightful ricotta cake I have ever tasted.



When I tried to praise the cake and the other desserts from Saturday night to the woman proprietor, her response was almost one of boredom, as she has heard this praise so many times before. She knows her ricotta cake is amazing, she makes it! She knows their torta di cioccolata is amazing, her son makes it (as she said that, he mumbled some polite prego, prego's to us).

Nonetheless, I know she was happy to hear it.

I can't dole out enough praise on this hidden gem of a restaurant. The service is what it is, and the whole family is in on it. It's not top-end, gushing service, but it's honest and sincere, just like the food. It's perfect for where you are, and anything to the contrary would just be wrong. I have a sneaking suspicion, too, that you can't choose a bad item on the menu, but I wouldn't know since the waiter told me what I would be having on both visits. I love restaurants like this, and I'll probably never order off the menu at any of my inevitable future return visits.

It's unfortunate that our old friend Julius never got to see this humble Roman landmark rise up. But, it's probably a good thing. Two strong personalities such as him and the militaristic mother/owner of Taverna Romana might have resulted in one too many a tempered shouting match. That's an entertaining thought, but I just want to drink my wine and eat my pasta in peace.







Taverna Romana
Via Madonna dei Monti 79
Roma
+39 06 474 5325



Danger awards an indisputable 5 out of 5 Flaming Spatulas to Taverna Romana.