When in San Diego, Salvatore’s Adds a Fresh Touch of Elegance

We San Diegans often celebrate the lovely weather we enjoy, but perhaps we also should be grateful for the harsh, grinding summers endured in Phoenix.

Thanks to the overbearing Phoenix sun, we have been treated to some of the best offerings of the Italian table, first at When in Rome in Leucadia, and now at the wonderfully elegant Salvatore’s in the Meridian condominium tower in downtown San Diego.

Salvatore and Raffaella Gangale left Rome in May, 1984, and arrived in Phoenix just in time for the onslaught of summer. They had intended to open a restaurant there, but as the super-heated air turned dry and brittle, Raffaella announced that she would find the seaside more congenial. Just one month later, this point of view led the couple to Leucadia and, ultimately, to the founding of one of North County’s more pleasant Italian houses.

At the time of its opening, When in Rome offered a more cosmopolitan, wide-ranging view of Italian cooking than was then common here. The place quickly became a favorite, doubling its size after less than a year in operation. But because, as Salvatore Gangale said in a recent interview, the couple were accustomed to the nighttime bustle of Rome, they could not resist when the opportunity came along to rent space in a stylish building in downtown San Diego. They sold When in Rome to Salvatore’s sisters, Rosa Ragone and Rosina Gangale, and opened their new establishment in mid-October.

Salvatore’s is one of those rare restaurants with which it is difficult (but not impossible) to find fault. Salvatore runs the front of the house, and Raffaella presides over the kitchen; both are maestros, and between them they produce a symphony of two intertwined movements.

The dining room achieves an elegance that is every bit as grand as a formal French room, but lighter somehow, perhaps because of the Murano Venetian glass chandelier over the curving bar that gives focus to the room, and the pale beige and rose colors. The service is formal for San Diego, less formal than it would be in Italy--in other words, more or less right on the mark.

The kitchen, meanwhile, devotes enormous consideration to the arrangement of the plates, turning out clever works of art that one would dislike disturbing were it not for the sharp goad of appetite. Salads look like the sculpted gardens of the 19th Century, and entrees occasionally take trompe l’oeil flights of fancy that can provoke almost inexpressible delight.

The menu is organized according to the classic Italian pattern of antipasti, primi piatti, secundi piatti and dolce, which at Salvatore’s would be translated as hors d’oeuvres, pasta or soup (this “first plate” is always considered the true beginning of the meal, the antipasto being merely a pre-curtain amusement), main course with vegetables, and dessert. Such an arrangement is common in Italy, both in restaurants and homes, though in the latter, the antipasto often would be something as simple as sliced salami with olives, and the dolce just as often would be a basket of fruit.

At Salvatore’s, guests are encouraged to sample something from every course, with the unusual twist that antipasti (literally “before the repast,” not “before the pasta”) and pastas are double-sized, so that guests can split these first courses. This is a nice idea, and possibly economical in its way, but it does impose upon diners in the sense that they must agree upon dishes rather than choosing them according to individual taste. Entrees are individually sized, but be warned that if you first split both an antipasto and a pasta, you may lack the appetite to tackle the main event.

The dinner menu expands upon the luncheon list but includes most of the same dishes, the majority of which are marked up from 20% to 50% for the night trade. The menu is in any case cosmopolitan, rather than representative of any single region; Salvatore said this approach is typical of Roman restaurants.

The appetizer list kicks off with a typically Italian presentation of grilled, highly seasoned eggplant slices, rolled into neat bundles and garnished with nicely complimentary arugala, a bitter green. Other simple choices are the antipasto plate (cheeses, cold cuts, olives and pickled vegetables) and a rather handsome eggplant Parmigiana.

The antipasti list grows more elegant with a pair of sensational salads, the first of which is named after Catherine di Medici, the Florentine beauty who supposedly introduced the fork to France when she became its queen. Arranged on an oversized plate, the salad consists of cup-sized radicchio leaves filled with lightly dressed, shredded greens and capers; a central cup holds a selection of fine olives, and leaves of Belgian endive and slices of Gruyere cheese fill the interstices between the cups. The equally elegant shrimp salad could easily double as a diet meal. A mound of roughly cut, barely dressed cucumbers, carrots, tomatoes and celery is crowned with a wreath of shrimp and, for the visual touch so important here, surrounded by little ribbons of radicchio and lemon.

As an alternative to pasta, try the minestrone Milanese, which in addition to the requisite kidney beans and chopped potatoes, includes perhaps a dozen greens and vegetables, all swimming in a rich, lightly tomatoed broth.

However, the pastas may be the best bets on Salvatore’s menu. Most tend toward richness, and many depend upon besciamella, the simple white sauce that for some reason the Italians do so much better than the French, who call it bechamel . Other sauces rely upon the kitchen’s suave reduction of chopped fresh tomatoes seasoned with herbs and garlic.

Salvatore’s serves a nice lasagna, in this case layered with both white and red sauces, but for something far subtler, try the cheese-stuffed ravioli dressed with butter and fresh sage. The rigatoni alla Cornelia is typically Roman with its combination of large macaroni, peas, mushrooms and slivered prosciutto ham, all bound together with a velvety, rose-tinted mixture of white and tomato sauces. The penne alla Gorgonzola, or macaroni in a bleu cheese-flavored cream sauce, is richly musty, while the tagliatelle (broad ribbon noodles) in meat sauce brings one back firmly, if deliciously, to the familiar.

Taken as a whole, the entree list is perhaps less exciting, but here again the kitchen makes a Roman spectacle out of what could be very ordinary presentations. This was especially true of a thick, lovely swordfish steak. Having noticed that the grill marked the fish in diamond shapes just like those on a pineapple, the kitchen arranged a carved lemon, a carved lime and a sprig of leafy Italian parsley at one end of the serving, so that it looked like a pineapple crowned with full greenery. With its simple lemon, oil and parsley dressing, the fish easily managed to be every bit as delicious as it looked.

Cuscinetti (“cushions”) of veal scallops, stuffed with prosciutto and mozzarella and topped with tomatoes, peas and mushrooms, came off rather better than the saltimbocca (veal topped with ham, cheese and sage), which needed a touch more butter and Marsala in its sauce. Scampi alla marinara were perfect and elegant, an impressive row of grilled giant shrimp lined up under a mantle of fresh tomato sauce.

All dishes included the most elegant vegetable garnishes--on one occasion an arrangement of grilled eggplant and zucchini; on another, asparagus spears moistened with a pungent tomato dressing.

The kitchen loads the pastry tray with a good selection of sweets, most notably the tirami-su (a kind of trifle of whipped, sweetened mascarpone cheese layered with espresso-soaked cake), and a plate of miniature cream puffs, filled with custard and drenched with a dark chocolate sauce.

SALVATORE’S

750 Front St.

544-1865

Lunch served Monday through Friday, dinner Monday through Saturday; closed Sundays

Credit cards accepted

Dinner for two, including a moderate bottle of wine, tax and tip, $50 to $80.