Torcello – Venice by way of Larchmont

I am in Torcello, the dreamy island of the Venetian lagoon, sitting at a table at its one and only restaurant, the celebrated Locanda Cipriani, feasting on sardines in saor, that fabulous Venetian dish made with raisins and pine nuts, swooning over homemade potato gnocchi with scampi, wild arugula and tomato confit. Raising a glass of sunny Pinot Grigio to my lips, soaking up the Venetian sunshine, I”¦

Cut! Rewind! Yes, I am indeed in Torcello, but not the Venetian one, with its Byzantine church of Santa Fosca and its basilica decorated with exquisite,1,000-year-old mosaics. No, I”™m in the Larchmont one.

Located in a not unlovely, white-clad, three-story house ”“ let”™s call it a villa, to keep with the continental vibe ”“ the recently opened Torcello, which was formerly La Riserva, is currently open only for dinner. Arriving for a prime-time 7 p.m. reservation, it was hard to miss the restaurant with its row of illuminated dwarf pines ”“ Christmas trees by any other name ”“ on the sidewalk outside. Well, we have the all-day breakfast, so it was only a matter of time I suppose until the arrival of the all-year Christmas.

On a wet, windy Larchmont night, the ambiance was warm, even glowing. With a bar along the side wall, which was a pleasant hub of activity, nearly every table was taken as we walked under the white-brick archway and into a second room, this one featuring a beautifully mirrored wall with decorative shields. White tablecloths, which regular readers of this page will know I have a fondness for, were everywhere in evidence and classical music was playing gently at a sympathetic volume. A gentleman, whom I took to be the owner, was busy seating us and I asked him why the restaurant was called Torcello. Were there any links to that magical isle, I wondered? ”No,” he told me, “we just liked the name.”

Indeed, there is some common ground ”“ perhaps I should say water ”“ between the two Torcellos. Fish and shellfish are staples of Venetian cuisine and while the regular menu at Torcello, Larchmont, mentions only linguine frutta di mare, our snappily-dressed, charming server reeled off a list of daily specials that included lobster bisque, linguine with calamari and a shellfish tower. 

If crustaceans don”™t float your gondola, beef carpaccio, a dish famously created in Venice ”“ by a Cipriani, no less ”“ would make a good, non-piscine starter. So, too, would the heavy-cream burrata or one of the beautifully composed salads, mercifully no “add chicken or shrimp” electives offered with the very fresh Caesar. I like my Caesar classic.

Artichokes “Roman style” were less successful, being tinned instead of fresh, grilled as opposed to fried. Soon, those glorious baby Venetian artichokes that actually grow in the sand dunes of the lagoon will be in season, and if Torcello (the restaurant) could get its hands on some and prepare them in the traditional Roman way, that would indeed be a sensational dish, definitely worth ”“ in Michelin-speak ”“ a special journey.

On a more positive note, with a little imagination as I chowed down on a generously-sized dish of penne primavera, I could almost imagine the young vegetables coming straight from the kitchen garden at Locanda Cipriani. And the fact that it is not a Venetian dish, but a native of Tuscany, could not detract from the lip-smacking deliciousness of a very fine osso buco. 

Chicken, lamb and beef dishes all feature strongly, too. Although, as I looked across the room to the well-stocked bar and was reminded that Ernest Hemingway had enjoyed a brief spell living on Torcello ”“ writing in the morning and duck-hunting in the afternoon, or perhaps it was the other way around ”“ the thought occurred to me that it might be rather fun for Torcello to include some game birds on its menu, when the season recommences in the fall. They already mix a great mojito, Hemingway”™s famous cocktail.

The wine list, which our server described to me as “a work in progress,” nevertheless offered some easily accessible Pinot Grigs and other whites from the Veneto, moving up to more serious reds, like a chewy Tuscan Banfi. It would still not have been quite chewy enough for Papa Hemingway, I suspect, but quite a treat for us lesser mortals. 

Tiramisù ”“ which I have always heard hails from the Veneto, although many regions claim it as their own ”“ brought a thoroughly enjoyable dinner to a satisfying close. Waiting for the check, I took a peek up the few stairs that led to a third dining room, also used as a private party room. 

“We”™re sold out tomorrow and Saturday,” the owner proudly told me, catching me in the act, as it were.

With its high-caliber cooking, friendly service and warm ambiance, frankly I”™m not surprised. Another mojito, anybody?

For more, visit torcellolarchmont.com.