Big brash Salato: Good times, but flounder needs finesse

She’s the brash Italian sister of The Mouth’s much-loved haunt Ragazzi, but for both better and worse, Salato is everything Ragazzi isn’t.

Palazzo Salato marron was a winner. Picture: Instagram

Apparently no one in the Sydney hospitality game got the memo that the borders are open again.

It seems this town cannot go a week without some restaurant “group” or other promising to transport diners to Paris or New York or Rome with none of the jet lag, burning cars, gunfire, or garbage strikes.

Though, let’s be honest, Clover Moore – in her role as Mickey Mouse of this culinary Disneyland – has been doing her best to provide the piles of trash.

Which brings us to Palazzo Salato, the latest venture of the Love Tilly Group and sister restaurant to Ragazzi which unashamedly remains one of this column’s favourite haunts for late night pasta and grappas and deciding to “work from home” the next day.

Salato is, for both better and worse, everything Ragazzi isn’t.

Palazzo Salato, A neighbourhood trattoria by @ragazziwinepasta. Picture: Supplied

Occupying the CBD’s old Red Oak Brewery site, which was about as charming as an airport “microbrewery” restaurant, Salato is big, bright, and brash.

A side wall is lined with big horseshoe banquettes, Roman-ish arches run through the middle; on the other side, there’s a buzzing bar.

Palazzo Salato agnolotti. Picture: Instagram

One local journal has called it a “Clarence Street Trattoria”, which we are sure was meant as high praise but comes across as mordantly funny as Dame Edna (RIP) wistfully sighing and saying, “Ah, Queensland … the Australia of the world!”

So what of the food?

Well, this is more about good times than great dining.

Salato lacks the clubby guanciale-by-jowl vibe of Ragazzi, but also some of the delicacy of its food.

A split marron, grilled, with a sort of slightly piquant creamy sauce was one of the best things we have had in ages, and the supremely helpful waitstaff was there with loads of bread to sop up every last drop.

A tri-tip steak tartare came blasting along happily on clouds of garlic (both white and black!) and horseradish.

But pastas?

Frankly, lacked the finesse we hoped for.

A scarpinocc (a type of filled pasta) stuffed with Andean sunrise (a type of potato that sounds like a type of marijuana) felt just a little too thick. Agnolotti was just a bit too dense.

And this is before we got to a flounder, which was billed as being served in a sort of brown butter, hazelnuts, and capers, but was instead swimming in a melted but entirely un-browned pool of Western Star.

A shame because the fish itself was perfectly done.

Palazzo Salato, 201 Clarence Street, Sydney

— The Mouth is an anonymous critic and bon vivant who pays his own way around Sydney and beyond.