Raphael Bar-Risto

A magical presentation with all the right elements

by Dawn Keable

1 Cookson Place, Providence, 421-4646
Open Mon-Fri, 11:30 a.m.-10:30 p.m., Sat, 5-11 p.m.
Sun, 4-10:30 p.m.
Major credit cards
Sidewalk access

So maybe it was a cruel trick.

I managed to lure my fiance, Andre, away from his favorite fall Sunday afternoon pastime, football, with the promise of a romantic dinner at Raphael Bar-Risto. But it was only in the car that I mentioned the grocery shopping we needed to do afterward. Luckily, Andre was too busy asking directions to the restaurant to be annoyed by the handful of coupons I was cramming in his front pocket.

Spinning free from the revolving front door (before Andre inadvertently decided that I might want to go 'round again), we entered one of the two dining rooms. A bronze sculpture, with a backdrop of running water, greeted us in the entryway. But we didn't have time to chat with him long, as we were quickly swept away to one of the horseshoe-shaped booths, which might as well have been marked "reserved for lovers." I was honored.

The rest of the interior here is beautifully understated in clean, classic lines and muted colors. Blond maple tastefully compliments the retro Sinatra-playing feel of the dining area. And to the rear of the restaurant is an open kitchen.

Andre and I started with an order of calamari ($8), which arrived in the blink of an eye. Served over fresh watercress, the oregano-grilled squid was refreshingly natural -- not fried, breaded or greasy. The accompanying red pepper aioli gave the dish the perfect snap, without being overly spicy.

Seconds after our auxiliary plates were whisked away, our entrées made their arrival. Andre's choice: the mustard herb roast pork loin ($17.50). And the presentation alone was enough reason to have ordered the dish. The two pork rolls, along with two rectangular bars of crispy polenta, were stacked in a tepee of rabe hidden inside. Drizzled around the perimeter of the plate was a ruby port-maple reduction.

All of the flavors complemented each other fabulously, but the sauce really brought it all together. Indeed, the reduction coaxed out the subtle taste of the firm, moist pork and sweetly contrasted with the bitter rabe.

I chose the house-made ravioli ($16.50), whose visual entertainment actually rivaled Andre's dinner. Mine had more of a pyramid theme going, with squares of pasta at the bottom for a solid base. Of course, I started with these first, and seriously jeopardized the strength of the structure.

Filled with a mixture of grilled eggplant puree seasoned with Italian herbs, the ravioli were deliciously sweet and light. They were topped with zucchini, onions and chopped tomatoes sautéed in a light oil; on the side, away from the action, a dollop of sun-dried tomato tapenade. I ate every last bit, and wasn't even overly stuffed.

Andre, on the other hand, was having problems with his waistband. (I think he ate too much of the fresh Italian bread.) So it was dessert-to-go for us. Amazingly enough, the artistry carried over into the aluminum takeout container.

Andre selected the chocolate pistachio cannoli ($6.95). Sprinkled with blueberries and raspberries, the dark chocolate shell was stuffed with a creamy ricotta filling flavored with bits of pistachio. Semi-sweet bits of chocolate capped one end of the pastry, while pistachio nuts covered the other. Everything was topped with a pistachio crème à l'anglaise sauce. Beyond yummy.

My dessert, tiramisu ($6.95), was not as intricate, although not any less delectable. The generous square, with alternating layers of espresso-soaked ladyfingers and a fluffy, airy mixture of mascarpone cheese, had a strong coffee flavor. Sprinkled with cocoa and an espresso sauce with coffee beans, it went up yet another notch in the caffeine factor.

By all accounts, dinner here was a magical experience. And later at the grocery store, while we came to terms with the fact that we probably would never be able to cook a meal of the same caliber, our memories of Raphael somehow made picking out frozen corn that much easier.