Tartufo

Fine attention to detail

by Johnette Rodriguez

758 Hope St., Providence, (401) 274-8278
Open Tues-Wed, 11 a.m.-midnight
Thurs, 11 a.m.-1 a.m., Fri-Sat, 11-2 a.m.
Sun brunch, 11 a.m.-3 p.m.
Major credit cards
Sidewalk access

I first encountered the dessert tartufo 20 years ago, when friends in Manhattan took me to a popular spot in the Little Italy. For a person whose two favorite indulgences are bittersweet chocolate and French vanilla ice cream, that oversized bonbon with ice cream bursting just under its crust and dark chocolate at its core was unforgettable.

It's hardly surprising, therefore, that I was so eager to try a new Hope Street cafe with the same promising moniker. Co-owners Nino DeMartino, and his fiancée, Charothy Hinchliffe, along with pastry chef Angela Clarke, chose the name for their joint venture, because, as DeMartino explains, tartufo not only means truffle (both chocolate ones and mushrooms), but by connotation "tartufo is a precious thing."

In the crisply elegant space formerly occupied by India Cafe, these three are turning out some precious things indeed. Though Tartufo has a light menu, running from soups and salads through appetizers and sandwiches, nothing is a toss-off, from home-cooked Sicilian-style crepes for the wraps to Abruzzian sausage and fresh mozzarella on the antipasto plate. "We make what we eat," says DeMartino. "We don't execute what we don't like."

Indeed, everything we ordered gave you the feeling, as my daughter once observed, that "someone in the kitchen is really tasting this." That impression started with my cream of parsnip soup ($5, a special that night) and Bill's arugula salad ($6). The light lemon vinaigrette seemed more suited to such an earthy green than the more boisterous balsamic, and large shavings of Parmigiano Reggiano were a terrific accent to the arugula. I don't think you'd have to be a parsnip fan to love the dreamy texture and straightforward flavor of the soup, also with a bit of grated Parmesan in the middle.

Next came grilled eggplant "cigars" ($6) and a frittata ($6), both served with enough mesclun for a side salad. Unlike other rolled-and-stuffed eggplant I've met, these eggplant slices were paper-thin, grilled to maximum smokiness and wrapped around prosciutto and ricotta, with fresh rosemary wafting through it all. The frittata, served cold, was a thick wedge with mushrooms, roasted red peppers, and goat cheese tucked inside.

From a line-up of eight sandwiches (half of them wraps) and a special that evening of veal riblets, we chose to split a portobello, roasted red pepper, and goat cheese wrap ($7). I loved the balance of ingredients, the soft flavorful crepe, and the lightness of the whole sandwich -- none of this let's-see-how-much-I-can-stuff-on-here approach.

The latter is particularly important in a place where dessert, for once, is not an afterthought but, in fact, a forethought. As if the restaurant's name isn't enough of a lure, there's the glass case of cakes, cookies, and truffles that greets you when you enter the cafe. The night we were there, a chocolate turtle torte beckoned to Bill, and a blackberry cheesecake whispered in my ear, but ultimately how could we not yield to the tartufos?

Bill's was tartufo affogato ($5.50), which went way beyond its description of a butter cookie and a truffle with hazelnut gelato and a "shot" of espresso. Make that a pool of espresso, with the melting gelato subtly shifting the flavors, minute by minute. Make that a glazed-eyed dining companion sipping a cappuccino along with his dessert, murmuring now and again about the cookie soaked in espresso, or the chocolate truffle leaning into the gelato. You get the picture.

I didn't want any part of it. I was perfectly content to relive my first tartufo with the grand tartufo nero ($5.50). Once again, there was the large truffle-like bonbon, dusted with cocoa, surrounded by artistically draped chocolate and caramel sauces. This time, the filling was chilled chocolate mousse with a sweet-cream vanilla heart, and chopped hazelnuts on the bottom of the ball. It was worth the wait of two decades to encounter it again.

Tartufo also has a nice selection of Italian and Californian wines. And it's one of the few places on the East Side that stays open past 11 p.m. for a mid-week post-theater or post-movie chat.

Our waitress, Adria, helpful and genuinely friendly, made us feel right at home and pampered all in the same breath. The ivory walls with just a few Impressionist prints, and a sheer light green swag across the top of the street windows, underscored the relaxed and restful atmosphere of Tartufo. It lives up to the special meaning of its name.