They had me at the breeze that swept through the roll-up doors and tumbled over the sun-dappled pine floors.
Heck, they had me at hello.
Seriously, I called Cuoco Pazzo one afternoon last fall to ask about happy hour, and this guy answered. He explained that the chef was crazy — that’s what the mouthful “Cuoco Pazzo” means in Italian — and the appetizer choices changed daily along with several specials, depending on what was fresh and inspiring in the market. Then he said I should definitely come on down and try some of his food.
It was the man with the pan himself, Peter DeRuvo, freshly arrived from his previous gig as executive chef at Montelucia resort in Paradise Valley, and Sassi of north Scottsdale before that. He’d grabbed the phone while prepping for dinner, which is just plain cool.
A couple hours later, I was digging into a gorgeous plate of calamari ($10), which had shared the fryer with lightly battered slices of Meyer lemon and halved brussels sprouts, and they were out of this world. This would turn out to be a classic DeRuvo move, tossing in bitter green stuff, fresh from the farmers market, as a counterpoint. Honestly, just the tomato sauce on the side was worth the price of squid admission; odes should be written about its velvety nuances.
I soon returned, with a witness, and this time we started with Italian rice balls, one of the daily specials. We cooed over our globes of saffron-scented Arborio rice, stuffed with peas and mozzarella, browned in a skillet, and doused in that fabulous tomato sauce.
The balls were a gentle way to prime our palates for DeRuvo’s modern Italian cookpot. The chef makes his own pasta, and the servers assured us that we really couldn’t go wrong, and they were right. You won’t often see Orecchietti ($19) on Valley menus, but I’d like a standing date with these fat little bites of ear-shaped pasta, served with fennel sausage, local chilies, pecorino and (yes!) roasted tomatoes that had so much flavor hanging out, I was almost embarrassed for them. Strands of bitter broccolini were a brilliant addition.
One of Cuoco Pazzo’s signature recipes is the Black Tagliolini ($20), with shrimp, mussels, clams, calamari and (yay!) tomatoes. The dish has a lot of textures going on — ribbons of purple pasta that yield to the bite, impossibly tender squid rings, plump shrimp exploding onto the scene like mermaids shooting out of the sea.
But I really lost my heart to the Moist Roasted Pork Shank ($25), and I’m not even a porky kinda gal. It’s a work of art, so simple, lying boldly on its platter, bone peeping out of the hunk of seared protein, and it’s accompanied by naught but a few chickpeas and handful of arugula.
I’ve had plenty of shanks in my time where the meat is braised until it’s literally falling off the bone — usually considered a good thing. This one, though, is meltingly good in the mouth while somehow retaining its structure; plus the searing treatment seals in the juices so the pork tastes more like itself. It’s call-your-best-friend good. And, I know this sounds strange, but the stupid chickpeas, swimming in their pool of buttery sauce with lentils, transformed me into a garbanzo enthusiast. Thanks to DeRuvo, I’m now a chickpea chick. Thanks, I think.
Word has it that DeRuvo has finally finished house-curing a host of meats, by the way, so keep an eye out for charcuterie offerings. And don’t miss this happy hour, one of the best in town, with picks like Sausage & Pepper Sliders with caramelized onions ($6), Olives and Sicilian Hummus ($6) and Crispy Ribs ($7). The little wood-oven “Pizzettas” are always an HH option also, and though the chewy, puffy crust is intriguing, I recommend allocating your calories elsewhere. Try it all, kids, try it all — the clams, the mussels, the stupendous cheese plates. Plus, all wines are $5 a glass — even the Tobin James zinfandel — from 2 p.m. to 6 p.m.
Please get down there and support this locally owned, beautiful venue (shout out to co-owner Mario), tucked away in a corner off Goldwater and Third avenues. Don’t let this gem get away.
Hasta La Vista
Finally, I’d like to say bon appétit and farewell to my faithful readers. I love you so much, mostly because I’ve never met you. After several years of fattening my calves, I’m going on a review-free diet for a while. I have two parting recommendations:
1. When the dining room is full, always say yes to sitting at the bar — it can open up a whole new experience. I don’t care what your control-freak wife/husband says. It’s not about liquor: you’ll usually get the best “on-tap” service you can hope for, not to mention meet lovely people who are dying to blab about the chef’s latest masterpiece. If that intimidates your significant other, you’ve probably resigned yourself to a life of wordless entrees, and good luck to ya; wouldn’t wanna be ya.
2. This is Mardi Gras season (Feb. 21 being Fat Tuesday). Those with any respect for the word “cocktail” or “Nawlins” need to get their tails over to Jaspers Peak Bistro, at Thompson Peak Parkway and Hayden Road in Scottsdale. There you will find a maestro of spirits, Eddie Garcia, who will mix you a Sazerac — the official drink of New Orleans — using rye, bitters and absinthe that comes as close to the original recipe as you can get without a time machine.
While you’re there, have him whip up a Pimm’s Cup as well, a classic concoction that includes bartender’s lemonade, cucumber, apple, an orange slice and Gosling’s ginger beer. This just may be the single best cocktail I’ve had in my life. Plus, Garcia is a walking encyclopedia of cocktail history and adores talking about it. You’ve got to pity the fool who orders a mere beer here.
Thanks for r-eating!
