There are more than 200 pizza pies from which to choose. After eliminating those flavors I had no interest in, it came down to either the regular Margherita, or the classier rendition composed of fresh tomato, bufala mozzarella, and basil. I went with the latter, the crisp crust wafer-thin and splendidly blistered from the wood-burning oven (located in a front room with red brick walls and four-seat pizza bar). The pie didn't have much in the way of basil, but was otherwise irreproachable.
So were a dozen moist, plump mussels steamed in an aromatic white wine and tomato broth touched lightly with garlic; we mopped up every last bit of liquid with two accompanying slices of grilled toast. The only other appetizer options come by way of numerous salads and carpaccios --we tried the salmon, generously portioned and pristinely presented with olive oil, lemon, capers, and a garnish of iceberg lettuce laced with strips of roasted red pepper.
Every Wednesday, after taking a comfortable flight from Spain, orata and spigola arrive at La Gastronomia. The former is the Italian name for dorada (sea bream), the latter for sea bass; both are served each night through Sunday, which means that Wednesday evening is probably the best time to dine here. Then again, the orata I consumed on a Thursday could really not have tasted any fresher -- or better, for that matter. Stuffed with parsley, lemon, and garlic, the whole fish was oven-baked to perfection with softly browned potatoes, fresh tomatoes, black olives, white wine, and a generous splash of olive oil.
A hitherto unseen waiter, presumably an in-house specialist, came over to filet our orata tableside, skillfully and meticulously removing skin and bones, laying the four rich, white, fleshy half-fillets side by side. Our regular waiter, who was apparently new at his job, intently studied his colleague's deft moves; it wouldn't surprise me if I returned in a month and he was able to prepare the fish just as adeptly. For those who get queasy looking their meal in the eye, the spigola comes in filet form, cooked in parchment paper with zucchini and the same accompaniments as the orata. To dine at La Gastronomia and not try one of these fish is to visit Rome and snub the Coliseum.
I earlier mentioned that our waiter had bungled about a bit, but he was friendly, hard-working, and took to the rest of his tasks fairly well. As usual I fault the managers, who have the responsibility to teach their staff to be able to perform all duties routinely before sending them out on the floor. I should note that a few other waiters working the room on this and another occasion exhibited a higher degree of training, and bus people were usually on the ball, though La Gastronomia might want to trade the pretty blue glasses for transparent ones, as it's hard to tell if someone needs water if you can't see through the water glass.
The menu here lacks scope, the array of pastas, for instance, rarely meandering away from the predictable -- gnocchi in marinara sauce, béchamel-based lasagna, and so forth. On the other hand, whatever this kitchen does prepare is done just right. Witness delicate, homemade cappelletti, richly yellowed with eggs, meaty with minced, well-seasoned veal, simmered to the bite and bathed in an elementary cream sauce sublimely perfumed with truffle oil -- delicious, really, just the sort of basic, impeccably prepared pasta dish you'd find in Italy. Of course in that country a waiter would have come by and offered to grate fresh parmigiano on top. The cappelletti didn't need it, but it would have been a welcome gesture just the same.
Chicken Milanesa is another so-called simple dish that many kitchens can't seem to pull off properly, but here the succulent breast came crisply breaded, neatly fried, and topped with ripe red tomatoes and lemony arugula. Chicken strips tossed about in a big bowl of linguini and red sauce were also tender and juicy, and though this dish was not as noteworthy as others, it heartily satisfied the dining companion who ordered it. New York sirloin is the signature steak, roasted with rosemary and vinegar and served with lemon.
A couple of light and luscious tartes lent refreshing final notes to a surprisingly delightful dinner. Mango, made on the premises, was smooth and sweet; the lemon version contained velvety filling and flaky, buttery crust, the top of the pie piled with pignoli nuts and dusted with powdered sugar. All desserts are five dollars. The prices here in general are more than fair -- you could feast on salmon carpaccio, chicken Milanesa, and lemon tarte for $21. That's also the price for the whole orata, which yielded about twelve hefty ounces of fish; if you ordered this up the block at La Dorada, they'd also prepare it with aplomb, but you'd likely pay almost twice as much.
La Gastronomia is owned by husband/wife team Roberto and Elizabeth Fayad. There are some details they might consider attending to in order to enhance the overall dining experience (I've already mentioned a few, but another would be to soften the nighttime ambiance by dimming the lights a little). Still, in terms of providing fresh, tasty, uncomplicated Italian cuisine at an appealingly affordable price, they really can't do much better.
