Dining Review: Pazza Luna

For more than seven years, Kim Acton's charming little restaurant in Locust Point attracted devoted fans for its homey feel and Italian favorites featuring big portions and bold flavors. But in 2005, Acton, tiring of the restaurant business, sold the place to Dennis and Sandra Dee Stallings, who were committed to keeping most of what Acton had built, including her celestial décor and famous devotion to her hero, Frank Sinatra, a shrine to whom was featured prominently in the restaurant and whose voice crooned nonstop on the house sound system. The place garnered great reviews and—so I thought—good business. Nevertheless, Pazza and its new owners lasted less than a year. Hey, it's a tough biz.
Come last winter, though, the restaurant's fans could breathe a sigh of relief: February ushered in a fresh start with yet another set of owners. It's a sure bet that regulars are praying that three's the charm—and it well may be. This time, Pazza's chances are bolstered by the fact that veteran restaurateur Riccardo Bosio of Sotto Sopra is at the helm, along with executive chef Gianfranco Fracassetti, who hails from Bosio's native Bergamo.
And this time, ownership has truly started from scratch, with a redone first floor featuring sleeker furnishings, contemporary overhead pendants in primary colors, and harlequin touches in muted shades. Yes, the upstairs dining room still sports those astrological doodads, but plans are afoot for an upstairs re-do as well. On a more radical note, Sinatra has left the building; the shrine to Old Blue Eyes has been dismantled. Oh, and the menu? Completely new. Lower price point. And, as befits the vision of a native, more straightforwardly Italian than most of what you'll find in that bastion of red-sauce cooking down near the harbor. To which I say, bravo.
Bosio's move to purchase this corner slice of real estate seems particularly canny. More than a year ago, when Señor M and I ventured out to try the Stallings' Pazza Luna, Locust Point was in the midst of a hot and controversial gentrification, but the area around the restaurant looked unchanged, Formstone-fronted rowhouses intact. Now, new and in-progress condos seem to dot every street corner; mixed-use conversion Silo Point, with its centerpiece grain elevator, looms overhead. Whether you embrace the changes or loathe them, it's certain that those condo dwellers will need a convenient and reliable place to eat. And Pazza fits the bill.
Already on this chilly spring evening, a month after its debut, Pazza was knee-deep in customers on a weeknight. We'd been smart enough to make reservations and were ushered upstairs almost immediately. Thick, soft hunks of whole-wheat focaccia with dishes of olive oil materialized.
The menu, although relatively small, boasts a selection of intriguing pastas and hearty, rustic entrées—the former are dubbed "primi," the latter "secondi," but it's hard to imagine one diner ordering both, as they do in Italy, because these are definitely American-sized portions.
To start, we ordered an antipasta misto from the short list of three antipasti and proceeded to go to town. It's a nice plate (toasted bread, roasted peppers and eggplant, prosciutto, mortadella), but there could be more cheese, and a more ambitious selection of salumi: How about some salsiccia, some speck, or the fabulously unctuous lardo?
More exciting is a plate of fagiolini e patate, an insalata featuring humble green beans and boiled potatoes rendered heavenly with bits of pan-roasted pancetta, white wine, and parsley vinaigrette. In fact, all the salads are terrific, particularly a plate of field greens dressed with aceto biancoand red onion, oranges, roasted beets, black olives, walnuts, raisins, and goat cheese—whew! Lots of flavors going on, but they work beautifully.
Another night, we hit the antipasto jackpot with a trio of verdant bruschette (the toppings change daily), one simply draped with arugula, olive oil, and shavings of asiago, one topped with a tapenade of mixed olives, and another featuring pistachio pesto. Fresh, light, and lovely.
Entrée specials often feature similar riffs on seasonal ingredients. Our first night, I savored a delicate but intense blood-orange sauce that graced a special of pan-seared bronzino, which couldn't have been more perfectly cooked, nor more wonderfully enhanced by the raspberry-colored, late-winter citrus. That evening, M went for heartier fare: casoncelli, the signature pasta of Bergamo. Housemade pasta stuffed with a mix of pork, beef, and lamb, it's spiked with a creamy Taleggio sauce, showered with prosciutto di Parma and asparagus, and drizzled with truffle oil. If that sounds rich, it is—M loved it, but finally resigned himself to a doggy bag.
There are near-misses here and there. A plate of taglietelle del Bolognese features a perfectly serviceable Bolognese sauce, but is nowhere near as spectacular as the Bergamo pasta. And I prefer a falling-off-the bone stewed lamb shank to Fracasetti's firmer, drier, oven-roasted version, but the rich red-wine sauce and mushroom-and-wheat-berry risotto made up for the meat. Another disappointment? Oenophiles looking for the kind of powerhouse Italian wine list Sotto Sopra boasts will have to wait. The staff is depleting the current limited stock of wine before they unveil a new 100-bottle list (with 10 to 15 available by the glass).
Among the desserts, I'd recommend you pass on the tiramisu and go for the semifreddo ai tre cioccolati. It didn't taste "semifreddo" to me, but it was still darned good—layers of dense white, milk, and dark chocolate creams in a tall wine glass.
On both visits, service was unfailingly accommodating and pleasant. One night, a Friday evening rush of customers caused our waitress to momentarily forget some silverware; she was so apologetic and quick to remedy the situation, we almost felt bad that we'd mentioned it. I'd say that's Bosio's long experience showing: It's not every restaurant that can get its staff up to speed within weeks of opening. And—although I hesitate to jinx anything—it may well be this edge that makes this version of Pazza Luna a keeper. I hope so; this Italian is the real deal.