absence makes the heart grow fond

correction: chef paul bertolli is no longer affiliated with oliveto. bad (i should say no) fact checking on my part. he is the founder and curemaster for a company called fra' mani salami, whose products i shall be trying with all due expedience. paul canales, previously the chef de cuisine for oliveto, has taken over as oliveto's chef.

i considered the idea as i sat down in the cafe area of oliveto, rockridge's renowned italian restaurant.

nearly ten years ago, as a starving college student, i had dined in the restaurant, sitting just two tables away from where i sat now. i can't recall the faces who crowded around the small square table that evening, but i do remember the incessant complaining. their main gripe, and a common one for people that age, accustomed to the mammoth portions at culinary meccas such as tgi fridays and bennigan's, was that serving sizes were too small.

now let me be clear. the portions were small, primarily because the pasta dishes we ordered weren't intended as entrees. the meal had been set up in the traditional, and frankly, far superior (i understand that now), manner, where pasta is but a small dish bookended by the antipasti and main.

but the portions weren't just small, they were heavenly. as i consumed the last bite, i was awestruck: pasta never tasted like this before. and to be honest, it never has since. chef paul bertolli makes all his pasta on the premises and does it better than anyone else. it's a bold statement and one that i stand by.

oliveto was my first great meal, the one that i look back upon as the turning point in how i viewed eating. it was no longer just an activity, it was an experience, and a visceral and sensual one at that.

as the years passed though, i wondered. was oliveto's greatness a product of the dismal food i had experienced up to that point? would it still tantalize me, after a decade of dining at some of the world's finest restaurants?

yes.

for starters, my two dining companions and i split the salami plate. like the pasta, all the salami served at the restaurant are created by the chef. once again, it shows. all five varieties shine, with the soppressata particularly memorable.

the real test was yet to arrive though. the pasta had its previous greatness, as well as ten years of absence, to live up to, but sailed well beyond my expectations. the tagliatelle, a wide flat noodle, was served in a light sauce, with the flavor supplied by shaved fish eggs. the dish captured the best qualities of food, even ones that would seem to contradict. subtle, yet somehow rich. simple, yet unlike any other pasta i had come across.

in fact, all that held the meal short of greatness was the lack of a dessert to cap the meal. not the restaurant's fault, of course, but simply because my dining companion (and ride back to sf) needed to depart.

in hindsight, however, should i have just taken bart?