Yesterday was our wedding anniversary, and we splurged for a late dinner at Al Forno in Providence. We've been eating at Al Forno since it was a tiny nondescript place with a sister restaurant called Lucky's. They moved to Main Street and Lucky's was enfolded into Al Forno, the place became famous, produced two cookbooks and there is frequently a wait for a table.
Al Forno makes the world's best pizza. I always have this hideous existential dilemma about whether to order the pizza or the Clams Al Forno, and usually the pizza wins out. It's grilled, of course, with spare toppings and thin, thin, thin. The taste is incredible. We brought a bit home for lunch, and I see a fight ensuing.
I had squab, which one never sees, and S.O. had a big pork chop. Smashed potatoes and grilled broccoli filled out the plate. For dessert, we shared the (oink) chocolate bread pudding. This was first rate food and the wine was also excellent. Of course the price tag is not for the faint-hearted. I slept until 9:00 this morning, drugged by so much fantastic grub.
With Brown and RISD down the street, the clientele is also interesting.
Tonight we have beaucoup leftovers from Monday's dinner: chicken Marbella, stuffed baked apples, risotto with fines herbes and green beans with walnuts and garlic. I'll be thinking about it all day. Yummy! Sometimes stuff in the fridge starts calling your name, never a good thing.
Like Al Forno's Pizza Margherita.
A little vignette about Lucky's. Years ago, when we visited my in-laws in Germany, we took along some excellent steaks, and for the dinner I made Lucky's potatoes, which involved a sh__load of garlic, oil and butter. The steaks were received politely, but it was the potatoes that were the biggest hit. I had to make them again. I promise I'll dig up the recipe.
You're in for a treat. Of course, you'll have to prepare them, no big deal, actually.
Grapeshot, in food mode today.