Rome, Italy (The Joy of Food) — The vibe at Trattoria Morgana is gritty with no pretense, the walls are half-brick, half-paint and in places lined with wine bottles doubling as decor and artistry. Tables have been sandwiched into every available nook and cranny. Don’t be surprised to find yourself eating wedged between a pillar and a metal cart carrying that day’s vegetable platters.
On a warm spring night in Rome, one of those evenings where we have trouble remembering what things like ‘cold front’ and ‘wind chill’ even are, the inside of Trattoria Morgana is bustling. It is one of those tiny hidden trattorias off the beaten path, a tourist-free spot that never seems to make the guidebooks. And that is a very good thing.
Of course, any Roman restaurant lives or dies by its pastas, the most famous of which would be cacio e pepe in these parts, and Trattoria Morgana’s is excellent, a luscious blend of pecorino, parmigiano, pepper, and more quantities of lard than I care to think about. And the pasta all’amatriciana here is a marriage made in guanciale and tomato heaven, but I can never resist a plate of gnocchi, handmade, slightly stiff, and coated with the very best of the season’s pomodori.
The heaviness of the first courses, bathing in their pools of butter and cheese, can be offset by a second course of fish spritzed with lemon, or even a simple filet of beef ends up being the lightest part of your meal. These are uncomplicated preparations, rudimentary even, but it’s the kind of unfussy cooking that lets each ingredient speak for itself.
If there is one complaint that I have with the food here, it is that certain things need more cowbell: they can be under-seasoned and thus a bit bland, particularly the dishes that don’t get added hits of salt the natural way, through cheeses and other means. The prosciutto and mozzarella antipasto doesn’t suffer from this problem, but the patate al forno do, lacking enough oomph from the rosemary and onions to balance everything effectively.
And though you’ve had gelato for breakfast, lunch, and several pick-me-up’s throughout the day, a dessert is still in order, perhaps a panna cotta ladled with a punishing amount of melted dark chocolate, but my favorite tends to be something regional called the zuppa inglese, a silky slice of eggnog-tasting custard cake you will only find in the environs of central Italy.
Written by Joy
Thanks for reading. The Joy of Food blog celebrates eating well, traveling often, and living la dolce vita. San Diego, California is home base, but thoughts are from all over. Reviews and photos help to highlight wonderful (or not) food experiences from around the world.
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Mmm… gelato for breakfast and lunch sound good. I have a pint from Botegga Italiana in the freezer for when I need something stronger than ice cream.
Definitely la dolce vita! I tell myself I go to Coronado to walk and appreciate the scenery, but really I go there for giant troughs of pistacchio and amaretto gelato from Bottega Italiana.
The scenery is really nice over there. I haven’t been to the Bottega Italiana over there. I have been to Gelato Paradiso a few times. I wonder how much it would cost to buy a whole tub of vanilla…
Yes I think they do pints! If there’s a choice between Bottega Italiana and Gelato Paradiso I’d highly recommend the former – I’ve had both and the quality at Bottega Italiana is definitely higher.
Huh. I always thought zuppa inglese was a soup. That is a very enlightening photo.
I’ve only known it as a dessert, but the type of dessert depends very much on the region. In the Campania area of Italy where I’m from zuppa inglese is a gelato flavor. In central Italy it’s this cake. I’ll never forget the first time I ordered it in a restaurant in Rome, thinking I’d gotten a gelato, and instead found myself with a slice of cake in front of me. I always think of that now when I ask for it!