Many years from now, when I reach an age or life stage that permits it, I would like to retire to a small, comfortable abode outside the big city.
It will be a place I can spend my days bragging about the accomplishments of my children and reflecting, at a slow and deliberate cadence that I will have earned, on the massive social and cultural changes I have witnessed over the course of my life.
I do not aspire to spend my days chasing a little white ball across 18 manicured greens, nor to run errands in a ludicrously expensive, high-performance automobile with an engine better suited to a jet plane.
No, I will know that I have finally “made it” when I can install and employ an imposing wood-burning oven, made of stone or brick, in my backyard.
In that oven, which is to be a hybrid forno-tandoor-barbecue pit contraption, I will prepare some of my all-time favourite foodstuffs, including naan, spit-roasted beast, hearty bread and traditional Neapolitan pizza.
This latter, with its signature charred edges and crispy dough bubbles, ranks among the world’s greatest food creations and, when prepared with due care and high-quality toppings, usually succeeds in satisfying most palates.
My forno fantasy was re-awakened on a recent visit to the new Il Castello Pizzeria on East Second Street, housed in the space formerly occupied by Cinnamon’s Chocolates.
Il Castello is so new, in fact, that the restaurant’s awning still bears portions of the phrase “Makers of fine chocolates and delectable confections” from the previous occupants. Inside, however, the space is all contemporary pizzeria, an airy and minimalist room with parquet and checked tile flooring and rustic wooden accents, including an old wine cask positioned near the entrance.
I visited Il Castello with my family after The Boy wrapped up a weekend soccer tournament. I noted that no other cleat-bearing kids had found their way to this particular pizzeria, which is a real shame, as the eight-inch, eight-dollar kids cheese pizza represented good value given its high-quality ingredients and was an unqualified hit with The Boy and his sister, Blondie.
Il Castello is a Neapolitan pizza specialist, and its menu is appropriately small and focused, featuring two salads, 10 regular pizzas and a weekly special. Patrons order from a chalkboard at the host stand at the front of the restaurant and can help themselves to water from stylishly mismatched tumblers.
Two craft beers are available on tap, as well as modestly priced red and white wines.
Broadly speaking, Il Castello is divided into two sections: a sparsely populated room immediately inside the entrance and a second, warmer dining area situated up a few steps and directly in front of the restaurant’s open kitchen, the centrepiece of which is a large, tiled forno with the words Il Castello spelled out in black and white.
As the Boy and I stood side by side in front of that oven, transfixed by the shimmering white wooden embers and orange flames it contained, I imagined how good the word Dagenais would look spelled out in tile on a similar device. We returned to our seats just as our meals arrived.
My wife DJ selected the star of the meal, in my opinion, a wonderfully simple and delicious pizza called the Bianca, comprised of tangy, prickly and polyphenol-rich olive oil, medallions of fresh mozzarella, oregano, roasted garlic and a generous garden of peppery rocket. The pie was perfectly balanced, rich and fresh, and its ingredients allowed the crisp and chewy (hallmark traits of good Neapolitan pizza) crust to shine.
The aforementioned kids pizzas, simply topped with chunky, house-made tomato sauce and fresh mozzarella, boasted the same fabulously rendered crusts and disappeared quickly.
My pizza, a creative and thoughtful pie called the Zucca, was topped with butternut squash, strips of pancetta, a sprinkling of toasted pine nuts, fresh mozzarella and crispy fried sage leaves.
Careful consideration for balance of flavours has clearly gone into the development of the Zucca pizza; the salty pancetta is intended to offset the sweetness of the squash, while the crunchy and toasty pine nuts and sage leaves offer welcome textural counterparts.
For my taste, however, the butternut squash, which was finely pureed and served as the pizza’s base layer, was still a touch too sweet and ultimately dominated the dish, eclipsing the other ingredients.
A glass of cheap and cheerful sangiovese was a welcome accompaniment to my meal, as was a liberal dousing of hand-crafted Calabrian chili oil, a nice condiment offering available on every table. DJ and I shared a bright and tasty rocket salad with grated parmesan, another great value at $7.
Our meal of two kids pizzas, two regular pizzas, salad, soft drink and a glass of wine, was $67 before gratuity. Il Castello is located at 119 East Second St. ilcastellopizzeria.com
Chris Dagenais served as a manager for several restaurants downtown and on the North Shore. Contact: [email protected].
