After a torturous 4am Friday crawl out of bed… a time never to be programmed into Spanish alarm clocks, I arrived at Rome’s Fiumicino airport from Sevilla. Reaching Piazza Navona around lunch o’clock, I was ready to pasta myself stupid. A quick but important side note before I dive into primo piatto – Rome’s Fiumicino airport is the back-end of anything likeable or smart in design… Mayor Gianni Alemanno is obviously a T&C (train and car) preferred traveller.
Some virgo’d day before Googling bookmarked Roscioli as stomach destination uno. This restaurant/bistro is far from being undiscovered, yet it remains fresh and certainly well deserving of its accolade. I’m calling it the Eatipedia of Italy’s finest gastronomic offerings. All that’s missing is a boutique selection of foodie suites where one can check-in for a week of pounds-a-plenty eat and sleep.
Metres from the entry the pupils dilated. I didn’t bother pre-screening the outside podium menu, I was dragged by tongue and taste buds to table as I conveyored passed oversized glass counters of deliciousness. The on-site crew of this establishment make and bake the finest flakeries at their bakery and serve the selected best at their deli/eatery a few steps away down the lane. I already knew by the sumo sized signori behind the counter slicing through baskets of flat bread that this was going to be damn good.
Ladies and Gents… to start? A plate of oil glistening antipasto stocking stuffers. The finest shaves of cured slaughter with melt in your mouth marblery, rich slices of leather skinned salami, balsamic baked and caramelised onions (A jar to go please), anchovy packed pimientos (make that peppers as I’m no longer in Spain), freshly grilled artichoke hearts drizzled in lemon and oil with crispy outer and lush creamy centres, semi dried cherry pomodori and a generous serve of assorted breads from the sumo slicers. All this accompanied by a celebratory prosecco, surprisingly a recent discovery for me and now a preferred bubble to the much drier (and pricier) French counterparts.
A few between courses breaths. Moments later arrived the finest bolognese stuffed tortellini glistening in a warming bowl of the cleanest chicken broth, with my other half conversation-less at the first mouthful of fettucini abundant in grilled gamberi, leeks and artichokes (the vegetable of choice for the regularly changing menu)… no parmesan shaker required for flavour.
In just two words? ‘incredibilmente delizioso’. With four days left to Roma it up, Roscioli’s return visit is only a meal or two away.
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