My first clue that Terroni’s long awaited and latest incarnation, Bar Centrale, was going to feature a drastically different menu than its original pizza-pasta formula was seeing carpaccio di cavallo — otherwise known as horse meat — on the menu. Is the Rosedale set really ready for horse?
After all, this is Toronto, the city whose citizens will gladly hand over their cash if someone threatens to put a gun to a goose’s head. Moreover, the Italian government (in between sex scandals and debt reform) has been talking about banning the sale of horse meat in Italy, where it’s been mainstream for centuries.
This menu item will likely cause some patrons to boycott, but perhaps a bit of controversy is just what this newly refurbished corner and the end of the fanciest row of shops in all the city, dubbed the Five Thieves, needs for a jump-start to draw attention to the newly-renovated surroundings.
The food takes inspiration from many parts of Italy, but it’s the handmade pasta that stands out as some of the most authentic northern Italian food I’ve had outside of Emilia Romagna. And I’ve eaten a lot of pasta.
The massive bar is the focal point and is surrounded by a series of small tables for two.
At a glance, I can tell that this is no pizza-pasta joint such as the familiar one that will open this summer upstairs.
It’s a bustling bar that features many small plates to accompany your affordable — strictly Italian — wine selection by the glass or bottle.
The restoration of the former Patachou Patisserie space feels like a more efficient and elegant use of space with simple whitewashed exposed brick and clean lines of simple dark wood furniture drawing all eyes to the sizable bar.
The mood is set by a few funky lights, and presto, you have a convivial Rosedale meeting place that’s quite a contrast to the many Bar Centrales in Italy, found somewhere in every train station. Since the train station next door has long since turned into a liquor store, there’s no shortage of wine.
I don’t remember feeling this much hesitation when I tasted horse meat in both France and Italy, but that’s what I feel when I taste the carpaccio ($10).
Rustically but delicately presented in two small mounds with fried capers, it is surprisingly mild and beautifully seasoned.
The polenta ($9), a more common item, is wonderfully crisp on the outside with a velvety centre. The Gorgonzola is nicely aged to work with sautéed mushrooms.
A pan-fried snapper filet ($15) melts in your mouth and floats with agrodolce of peppers, raisins, mint and zucchini. My first bite of the lobster ravioli ($12) is heaven, and I realize that I have not had pasta quite like this anywhere outside of Italy; Bologna to be exact.
Even the look of the dish evokes ease, as though just tossed perfectly on a simple white plate with a hand gesture.
The finely rolled pasta is as light as a cloud, and the lobster and mascarpone cheese filling is perfect with a sauce of tomatoes that are hardly cooked, yielding both their sweet and tart notes and robust olive oil.
Polenta topped with delish sautéed mushrooms (L), light-as-air lobster ravioli
This could get ugly, and by that I mean I may need to try more and more pasta. Bring on the lasagna alla Bolognese ($12).
My trip to Bologna changed the way I made and felt about lasagna forever, so the anticipation is killing me. It’s served in a small shallow earthenware dish and has at least six layers of spinach pasta, each one paper-thin with a traditional ragu that is not overly loaded with tomato and béchamel between each layer.
I could swear I am in Bologna! I inquire about the chef. And, guess where the tall and lanky chef Fabio Moro is from? Bologna, of course.
Now it all makes sense.
The service is warm and knowledgeable with just enough fun to keep that meeting place vibe. You can eat as little or as much as you like — that’s refreshing.
The room is fairly tight though, so you may just want to catch a train or head upstairs to the Terroni patio, when it opens, for a breath of fresh air.
We try a few more little plates to share, and all are quite pleasing such as the nduja ($9) — the spicy sausage is rich with smoked buffalo ricotta and lovingly touched with just enough heat.
A Sicilian salad is fresh and classic with fennel and orange ($8).
Green pitted olives, stuffed with pork and beef, are breaded and deep fried. This plate seems to involve a ton of work but the result is delectable.
Moro has a far better handle on his kitchen than his sweet offerings, which seems to be a common occurrence these days.
The handmade fig cigarillo is too thick, even though it is filled with a delish mash of orange and fig flavours.
The pistachio cream puffs lack the “puff” and are instead fairly dense with ordinary pistachio filling.
Moro’s passion and drive are both apparent in this menu, and to make all this pasta from scratch with so much finesse — just like he would in his hometown of Bologna — tells me he’s not lowering his bar to suit the Toronto palate. Instead he’s raising us to the heights of Bologna — the culinary capital of Italy.
Post City Magazines food critic Christine Cushing graduated from George Brown and Ecole de Cuisine La Varenne in Paris. She stars in the TV show Fearless in the Kitchen.