has been said about da Felice, especially since its transformation from local Roman trattoria wolf to international hipster haven in sheep's clothes. Whether it's all that and then some probably depends on how much you enjoy eating Roman food and how much experience you've had at typical trattorie. Since I am constantly in search of carbonara, abbachio al forno and good service, I was in love. And since our friends are restaurant owners on a recon mission in Rome and Napoli (albeit Daniel and Teng were primarily f
ocusing on pizza), I think they felt the love too.
Here's the run down:
We ordered and ate everything: archetypal caciopepe (beautiful presentation: tonarelli pasta piled high with a mountain of pecorino which the waiter whirls together with your fork and spoon), spaghetti con vongole (clams), ravioli alla felice (mint! I miss mint!), abbacchio al forno (perhaps the very best oven-baked lamb I have ever had), roman artichokes, sword fish, tiramisu, black forest cake. All that was missing was a plate of puntarelle.
Side Note: Have you noticed that there has been an uprising in Rome-based food critics who are prolifically penning pieces everywhere and about every foo
d establishment? Just as Da Felice has had a reincarnation, so has the Rome food scene in general. From street to chic, there is an eternal (yes, I know, bad pun) amount of places to write about and Rome has stepped up to the plate with a line up of great writers who've taken a more candid approach to food writing. It's getting fun.