SA Weekend restaurant review — Luigi Delicatessen

Pay attention when the menu is delivered at this popular Italian cafe in the heart of the city, writes Simon Wilkinson.

A spread of dishes from Luigi Delicatessen in the city. Photo: Jake Pinksterboer.

Waiting tables has helped many aspiring actors get by while they search for their big break.

Russell Crowe, Sandra Bullock and Lady Gaga are among a cast of thousands who honed their dramatic skills while running plates.

The staff at Luigi Delicatessen might not have Hollywood on their radar but they deliver an Oscar-worthy performance.

You see this bustling, daytime-focused trattoria in the city does not have any printed menus or wine list. Never has.

Instead, the extroverted young fella who takes our order recites each of the 15 or so dishes available that day in full detail. He delivers his script with superlative-laden perfection and a hot-blooded passion that has echoes of an early Brando. The boss would be proud.

Owner Luigi Di Costanzo is one of the great characters of Adelaide hospitality and has always done things his own way. The menu-free approach, that he says is inspired by his favourite eating spots in Europe, is only part of it. He also specialises in long boards that are loaded with an array of pasta or bruschetta or desserts to share.

It’s a formula that has worked since Luigi opened his first cafe in a squeezy nook in Flinders Street seven years ago. In these early days, his mamma, Anna, would help in the kitchen and ensure the meatballs, eggplant parmigiana and other southern Italian classics were up to scratch. When it became clear he needed a bigger dining room and better kitchen facilities, he signed up to take over a ground floor tenancy below the U City development, a few blocks west in Franklin Street.

Cannoli from Luigi Delicatessen. Photo: Jake Pinksterboer.

The new space is on the corner of the building and opens up to the footpath and lobby when required thanks to sliding glass bi-fold doors.

A large bar with jars of preserved veg alongside the bottles of booze sits at the hub of the room. Most of the dining action is at the back but a few extra tables are spread across the narrow walkways at the front and sides. That’s where we are taken (unfortunately) with the promise it will be quieter for dinner on a busy Friday evening, the only time Luigi is open at night.

While we can still catch the acoustic covers being played on the other side, we miss out on the buzz of a happy throng and an open kitchen going full bore.

For head chef Johnny Triscari, it couldn’t be further removed from his previous gig at eastern suburbs fine diner Chloe’s, where the dining room operated with a well-mannered hush.

However, he seems to relish a return to simpler Italian cooking. While classic preparations of pasta are the mainstay, he also has a short list of protein-based mains such as slow-roasted lamb shoulder with mash and green olives or barramundi poached in a tomato acqua pazza (crazy water) broth. The problem, for us at least, is that the spoken descriptions fly by too quickly and don’t include any mention of size or price. So we opt for the safety-first suggestion of a pasta board that is a signature of the house.

Pasta board from Luigi’s. Photo: Jake Pinksterboer.

The selections are presented in a trio of glazed bowls arranged on a long plank. Local seafood shines in the spaghetti marinara, particularly prawns, mussels and whole baby octopus that are so sweet and tender it is almost a shame to bite into them. Garlic, chilli, wine and a touch of tomato brings all the elements together with the pasta cooked just beyond al dente.

A ragu of pork sausage, lamb shoulder and beef has bubbled away for more than four hours until the pieces have lent some of their meatiness to an intense tomato sugo. Tubes of paccheri are a perfect match. Feather-light puffs of potato gnocchi are tossed in a rich, unctuous cream sauce scattered with slices of porcini mushroom and an extra waft of funk from truffle paste.

Desserts bring another trio of selections, lined up on a long plate decorated with top-quality fresh berries, ice cream and a drizzle of syrup. A ricotta and pistachio filled cannoli tube and zeppole (Italy’s doughnut) both fit the bill, but a soggy-shelled mango tart might have been in the fridge a little too long.

Adelaide has nothing else quite like Luigi – the cafe or its owner, whose confidence and charisma are a big part of the appeal. Adding a printed menu – which is on the cards for next year – will make the experience more customer-friendly, I reckon. Even if the waiters might miss out on the lead role.