A lunch at Roberta’s.
We shared the Smoked Breakfast Sausage, the Treviso, and the Famous Original pizza with a runny egg as an extra topping. It all looked deceptively light, but I was pretty full near the end of it. While my loyalties are still with Pizzeria Libretto for the thin charred crust, Roberta’s pizza is something else. My guess is the tomato sauce. It was rich, complex, and most likely simmered for hours, and strangely reminiscent of something eaten during high school at a local pizzeria. Neither of us thinks it’s a bad thing at all. We just can’t explain what made it so good. Was it the taste of childhood and young adolescence? Was it a psychosomatic experience? (Can you tell I really like that word? Pychosomatic.) Do we project too much on food? Probably.
Their lunch menu also featured some very interesting plates we were eyeing, like the sweetbreads with lime and goat cheese and sweet potato hash. Regrettably, this is where we completely missed out! Their small plates and tasting menu have garnered a litany of praises, good enough to place Roberta’s on the Michelin’s 2012 Bib Gourmands list. And it all makes sense now. The treviso drizzled with a cheese we never heard of (Époisses de Bourgogne), presented without much fanfare and most likely straight out of their roof top greenhouse, is definitely something you wouldn’t see at your local dive bar. It’s no gastronomical wonder, but there’s enough thoughtfulness to hint at better things.
Well…then! Looks like we inadvertently forayed into Michelin territory. Not bad. Not bad at all. Perhaps next year I can convince Leo to put on a suit for Le Bernadin?
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