PastaBar None

All hail Fritto Misto.

by Robrt L. Pela

The barkeep frowned when we asked her to turn the volume down on the groovy disco music that was playing the night that we—a group of middle-aged folks out in search of good eats that wouldn’t take us too far from our usually healthy-minded eating—visited. But otherwise, our trip to PastaBar was more than pleasant. Fun, even.

The food here is prepared by chef Wade Moises, a Mario Batali-trained fellow I remember from Sassi, a North Scottsdale Italian eatery that shares a name with a teen fan magazine; the difference is that Sassi serves Orecchiette con Salsiccia while Sassy serves photo layouts of the Jonas Brothers. PastaBar’s fare is simple and focused on handmade, authentic Italian pasta. The portions are on the small side—or at least it seemed that way to me and to Dominick, one of my dinner companions that night; but then Dom and I grew up in Italian households where pasta was served in heaps—for which we, with our expanding waistlines and deepening fear of carbohydrates, were grateful. But while the portions aren’t enormous, the flavors certainly are.

That’s because Moises and company aren’t above the preciousness of boutique ingredients. The delicious carbonara, for example, isn’t just flavored with bacon, but with unsmoked pork-jowl bacon, local onion, and a farm egg as well as guanciale and tasty pecorino. Once I tasted this dish, I didn’t care if the onion came from Poughkeepsie, it was so scrumptious.

It’s this attention to ingredients that’s at the heart of PastaBar’s success. Crostini is rarely an exciting starter, but here it’s a startling and tasty combo of warm garlic and anchovy over fresh, oven-crisped Italian bread. And any restaurant that includes Fritto Misto, my all-time favorite starter, on its antipasti menu goes directly onto my Top Ten list; it’s hard to find any local eatery that offers this plate of lightly fried seafood (usually calamari, smelt, and various shellfish), but here it was, beckoning me to come back for more.

I ordered—and subsequently fell deeply in love with—the Orecchiette with homemade sausage and greens. The pasta was perfectly al dente, and the sausage was slightly spicy and a perfect compliment to the tender greens, which appeared to be wilted spinach. I nearly made off with the Gnocchi alla Lupa ordered by one of my companions, because the little pasta pillows were so light and airy and swaddled in a sweet, creamy tomato-based sauce.

At PastaBar, meat is served as a side. Our table went nuts for the beef meatballs, which were moist and juicy and tasted as if they’d been cooked, just like Mom’s, all day in a tangy red sauce. We ordered two platefuls to share, along with the tender, tasty, lightly breaded calamari, far and away fresher than the frozen version typically trotted out at even our better local Italian restaurants.

As appetizing as all this was, the high point of my brief stay at PastaBar was the delicious cocktail that preceded my meal—and not just because this charming, cozy dining spot serves my favorite (and lately hard to find, in restaurants, at least) gin, Tanqueray Ten. PastaBar serves it with Limonata, a taste sensation I plan to enjoy when I return—sooner, rather than later.

PastaBar
705 North First Street
602-687-8704

Fritto Misto $9
Orecchiette con Salsiccia $15
Gnocchi alla Lupa $15
Beef Meatballs $7