Ristorante Pesto

Italian Pygmalione

The Rinaldi Rundown
Atmosphere: Creamy cool classiness inside, so don't let the facade fool you.
Service: Attentive Italian men with accents. Yum.
Food: Inventive touches on traditional Italian fare that surprise and delight.

I have mixed feelings about Pesto's lack of curb appeal. On one hand, the plain awning and small front windows of the new South Philly BYOB will certainly keep some superficial poseurs from venturing inside, and that's a good thing. On the other hand, they might also keep the poseurs' wallets from venturing inside, and that would be a shame, because Pesto deserves to thrive.

I don't think I've ever been to a restaurant whose outside appearance differs so radically from the experience it offers within. From the sidewalk it could be any old spaghetti-and-meatballs setup. But inside cream-colored tile floors match serene walls decorated with understated photos.

The long room, leading back to a semi-open kitchen and wood-fired oven behind two stained glass panels, is simply lovely. Early evening light filters in, reflecting off the ivory walls, where elegantly modern sconces echo the warm chandeliers above. The chairs are French and the waiters are Italian--except for one cutie whose heavy Philly accent seemed just as authentic as the signoras and parmigianos rolling from the mouths of his compatriots.

The menu is straightforward and holds nothing unexpected--not on paper anyway. Fried calamari, Caprese salad and various antipasti lead the way to several pastas and to chicken, veal and seafood entrees of the marsala and piccata varieties. The pizzas likewise tout the usuals: margherita, four cheese, pesto.

So far it was just like any other South Philly Italian eatery, albeit a bit brighter and more smartly decorated. But then the food arrived.

A basket of crusty bread was soon followed by a dish of room-temperature potatoes marinated in a light pesto sauce, an unusual and pleasing appetizer.

The steamed clams--small tender beauties with brightly striped shells--boasted a garlicky broth whose wine hadn't cooked off completely, giving the dish a heady bite.

The grilled vegetables were a plateful of shimmering color. Paper-thin strips of zucchini and eggplant were folded in little heaps next to sweet red pepper strips and oven-dried tomatoes, all refreshingly cold and shining with olive oil. The tomatoes especially were a delicacy--much more flavorful than fresh but not nearly as shriveled as sun-dried, their essence captured at its peak.

When we ordered an arugula pizza I was expecting to see the bitter greens cooked into melted cheese, but instead the waiter brought a golden fresh pizza shell topped with diced tomatoes, strips of prosciutto, shavings of Parmesan and a pile of fresh green arugula leaves. It was less like a pizza and more like an incredibly clean and fresh salad on top of perfectly seasoned thin focaccia--a Roman creation, according to our waiter.

Yet another surprise awaited us with the veal francese. The light egg batter was familiar, as was the lemon-butter sauce. But the crowning touch--both literally and figuratively--was a scattering of rich crabmeat atop each medallion, whose taste combined gorgeously with the egg and lemon to add a complex layer to the simple francese preparation.

I couldn't help myself from sampling the arrabiata. It's one of those seemingly uncomplicated dishes, like carbonara or puttanesca, by which one can faithfully measure an Italian restaurant. In this version, the penne was perfectly al dente, but more important, the chunky plum tomato sauce was spiced right--hot but not overpowering. When the waiter came over with the Parmesan, he dumped it over the pasta in heaping spoonfuls, unafraid. I found myself liking Pesto more and more by the moment.

For dessert Pesto offers a ricotta cheesecake homemade by "Mom," which I'll certainly try on the next visit, but this time I needed a little tiramisu. It came in its own large ramekin topped with whipped cream and chocolate drizzles. Inside, the ladyfingers were absolutely soaked in chocolate liqueur--a little too soaked for my taste, though that didn't stop me from polishing it off.

Several varieties of imported sorbet offered themselves up, and we took the limoncello. Oh. My. God. Snowy white and laced with faint yellow trails of liqueur, it looked like frozen meringue and tasted like a lemony cloud.

I'd had about all the astonishments I could handle for one evening when the bill arrived and I saw that the incredible dinner Pesto had just served me cost a little more than half of what I usually pay for such enticements.

Do you really need me to say any more about this little jewel of a restaurant? I didn't think so.

By Robin Rinaldi, July 9, 2003 - PhiladelphiaWeekly.com

< Back to Reviews

Ristorante Pesto | 1915 South Broad St. | Philadelphia, PA 19148 | Phone 215-336-8380

Store Hours
Lunch: Wednesday thru Friday - 11:30am - 2:30pm
Dinner: Monday thru Thursday - 5:00pm - 9:30pm; Friday & Saturday - 5:00pm - 10:00pm; Sunday - 3:30pm - 8:00pm

Call 215.336.8380 for Gift Certificates