A smartly-attired Italian restaurant serves food that is more down-to-earth than its appearance might suggest, writes Simon Wilkinson
Leaning towards a more homely side of Italian cucina, Luciano’s at Glenelg serves tasty food that is visually less glamorous.
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If restaurant dishes were judged purely on visual appeal, and the unglamorous ones discarded, think what we’d miss out on. Brown would be banned. Soul food sent to Siberia. Honesty and goodness spurned for superficial attraction.
Take the parmigiana at Luciano’s. Sitting at the centre of a terracotta bowl, a large, round splat of eggplant looks like something you might find left in a paddock where cows have been grazing. Even with a dollop of tomato sauce, parmesan and basil on top, it has a face only a mamma could love. In the mouth, however, the collapsed eggplant pulp is luxurious, its unctuous gooiness reminiscent of a properly ripened soft cheese. Bella!
A recent addition to the line-up of restaurants along Glenelg’s Marina Pier, Luciano’s leans towards this more homely side of Italian cucina, at reasonable prices, and does it particularly well.
Again, initial appearances can be deceiving. From the outside, this spacious dining room that looks out to the wharf on one side and the beach on the other, looks quite flash.
New owner Toni Odgers has given what was known as Esca a significant revamp, including a change to the floorplan to open up the view and a new name that honours her grandfather.
Handsome brick tiles on the bar and remodelled open kitchen have a rustic, Mediterranean tone but elsewhere the emphasis is on comfort and glamour. Floors are carpeted, chairs well-cushioned, white tablecloths neatly pressed and custom-made light fittings look like illuminated flutes hanging overhead.
Staff are kitted out with a similar sense of style, whether it is the jaunty caps on the crew in the kitchen or the sharp calico aprons worn by a brigade of waiters who have the attitude (and accents) to give the night a sense of occasion.
In the midst of the careful unwinding of dining restrictions, it is refreshing to watch a restaurant with all hands on deck and a few lively, if well-separated, groups of customers.
Early in her planning, Toni enlisted well-known chef/consultant Adam Swanson, who had been part of opening Esca more than a decade earlier, to help develop the menu and oversee its delivery alongside head chef Loris Facciolo, originally from Milan.
It is a compact selection that doesn’t rock the boat. Pastas, for instance, include spaghetti pomodoro and pappardelle alla puttanesca, while pizzas stick with classic toppings on a Neapolitan-style base that is proved over five days.
Alongside the eggplant, we start with arancini that offers two different golden hues in its fried crumb coating and the saffron-stained rice inside. Dig further and there is a core of beef ragu as well as molten mozzarella that helps hold everything together.
The fried squid? It doesn’t get much better than this assortment of rings, strips and wizened tentacles of southern calamari that must have been hooting around nearby waters not that long before. The crisp floured pieces and a few batons of lightly battered zucchini are scattered over a herb aioli.
Osso buco, based on a recipe from Toni’s family, speaks of the nurturing instincts of generations of Italian households. Beef shin has been gently poached in a sauce of wine and tomato until the meat releases from the bone.
Carrots are added later in the piece but still have sufficient time to soak up all that flavour to be equal partners in the dish. Rather than the more traditional polenta or risotto, the stew is underpinned by a bed of potato that has been mashed with a liberal quantity of dairy product.
The same mash also accompanies a slab of crackle-topped pork belly with beef jus and a spiced apple sauce, a combination that is sure to annoy your heart specialist.
A porcini risotto, in which the rice has started to disintegrate, is the only real misstep. Spread flat across the base of the plate, it reinforces my belief that risotto is best cooked and eaten at home.
Finally, an unmoulded vanilla panna cotta sits up proudly and gives a little wiggle when nudged with a spoon. It comes with raspberries – fresh, dried and turned to a puree – and fresh mint leaves.
Luciano’s proves to be a restaurant for all seasons. On a dark winter night like this, with the view taken out of the equation, it is warm and welcoming.
Later in the year, when the daylight lasts longer, the backdrop will be the shimmering sea and sunset’s rosy glow. A thing of beauty, for sure.