December 24–31, 1998

food

In Toto

The old DiLullo's is reimagined as a dreamy new restaurant.

By Maxine Keyser

Last night I dreamt that I was back at the old DiLullo Centro. I walked in the same entrance, glittering with marble and mirror, and felt that familiar pulse of excitement. The large, tiled open kitchen was there, and the bar, and the colorful murals, but the space was brighter and more open, and there was even a community table in front of the window that looked out onto Locust Street and the Academy of Music. The restaurant was called Toto now, after DiLullo's longtime manager/maître d', Toto Schiavone, who is the present owner, along with his wife, the former Claire DiLullo. The dream continued as I entered the opulent dining room with its gleaming bar at the center. It was familiar, but different too, for the walls and drapes were now a glowing cream that matched the tablecloths. Etched glass panels still punctuated the space, giving the illusion of small, separate rooms. We sat down at one of the round tables, individually lit by frosted glass fixtures, and received a glass of the house special cocktail, Toto's version of a Bellini, made with Prosecco and diced mangos in lieu of peaches. One sip, and I knew I was not dreaming. The stunning restaurant, and the promising menu, were indeed real.

I want to start right in, because I am afraid I will eat too much of the oil-dried olives, the varied breads and the garlic- and rosemary-infused olive oil that grace the table. I also hear there is a new chef, Shane Cash, who comes to the restaurant by way of San Francisco. I suspect he is the one responsible for the mangos and other New World ingredients that quite literally sweeten the menu. So, I can live without the port wine drizzle and the sliced rutabaga that don't quite do justice to the delicious seared scallops ($10), but I like the salad beneath them—a tangle of frisee, flavored with truffle oil. I also enjoy a combination of baked goat cheese and crispy prosciutto ($9), and this is one instance where the roasted apples in the vinaigrette are welcome, and mark the contrast between the creaminess of the cheese and the salt of the prosciutto. A winner, too, is the Beef Carpaccio ($9), the rosy, transparent slices almost obscured by a shower of artichoke shavings, caper leaves and a generous sprinkling of truffle essence. In each luxuriant bite there is the silky beef, the crunch of truffle and artichoke, and the added spark of a crisp parmesan biscotti. As good as the Carpaccio is the Risotto Funghi ($11), creamy but resistant, and as earthy and heavenly as the wild mushrooms, parmesan and chopped rosemary that it contains.

A word here about the wine list: Naturally geared toward Italian wines, but with a fair selection from France and California, it is thoughtful and fairly priced. Consultant John Romano has assembled bottles from a $28 Pinot Grigio to a $135 Taurasi Riserva, with at least three Super-Tuscans for good measure. We decide to order from the 16 or so wines by the glass. My companion's fairly loud and fresh Zinfandel from Peterson Winery ($8.50) is fine with the Carpaccio and the goat cheese and prosciutto, even the risotto. My Italian Soraval Chardonnay ($8.50) is OK with the scallops, but too austere with anything else. Another companion's Santa Barbara Chardonnay ($8.50) is so full and oaky that it really goes with practically everything, even the meats.

We continue the glasses of wine with the entrees—for one companion, a Quail Creek Pinot Noir ($8), light and fruity, and for the other one, and me, the always dependable Dolcetto D'Alba ($8.50), deep purple and also fruity. It goes very well with an excellent tenderloin of pork ($19) that comes seared and arranged around a layered timbale of potatoes and goat cheese and caramelized apple. Sweet apples, flavorful pork, tart cheese—all pick up the wine properly. The roasted rack of lamb ($29) is lovely too, rare and redolent of herbs, and bedded by an interesting fregola, which we are told is Sicilian couscous. It's about the size of a grain of barley, and, tossed with pan juices and diced artichokes, it's quite nice for a change—and the wine holds its own. A bouquet of carrots (green tops and all) completes the dish. For me, pan-roasted Black Cod ($21) doesn't make it. I know it's the hot new fish, but it is fleshy and assertive and needs a sharp, savory sauce. Again, sweetness becomes an issue with the cidery fume surrounding the fish, and it doesn't benefit the warm salad of cabbage, radicchio and diced bacon that shares the plate.

Although the dining room is large, the glass partitions provide a pleasant feeling of intimacy which lasts through our last course. Our waitperson, continentally clad in tuxedo vest and white apron, speaks perfect Italian, and brings the list of desserts, all the work of the talented Tanna Wogenmann. We want them all, but settle on a fig strudel with honeyed goat cheese gelato ($9), which is a terrific combination, and a classic warm chocolate hazelnut cake (giandua) with malted gelato ($8.50) that is luscious, too. But it is the Spuma ($9)—five tiny, assorted crème brûlées, that is the star presentation. We taste chocolate, vanilla, brandied cherry, white chocolate and peppermint, and find that two spoonfuls each is not enough; they are so good. We have passed up the panna cotta, semifreddo and semolina souffle, even a comprehensive cheese tray. Italian desserts are usually lackluster, but these are an exception. My eyes are glazing over—it must be time to leave.

When we depart, the bar is still very busy, and I find that here they offer cichetti (little mouthfuls) either at the bar or the surrounding tables. Though it's hard to think of more food, I see a very thorough and attractive listing on the menu. There are traditional samplers of meats or seafood ($11.50-$13.50) that will feed two people, and single plates as varied as calf's liver with mashed potatoes ($8.50), seared tuna ($9.50), and seafood lasagna ($11), and some vegetarian dishes. With the Academy and all the theaters nearby, this is a very acceptable alternative to the dining room. For those who do want the dining room, there is also a three-course pretheater menu at $30. What's amazing is that every menu is different—credit the fertile imaginations of chef Cash and Schiavone.

The compleat, charming host, Schiavone is rightfully proud of his new venture. We are just beginning to realize the scope of it as we bid him goodbye and walk out, still discussing the lovely atmosphere and the creativeness of the food. We are halfway down the block, when I remember I didn't even have any pasta!

Toto, 1407 Locust Street, 215-546-2000. Dinner Monday through Saturday, 5-10 p.m.; Sunday 4-8 p.m. Cichetti, Monday through Friday, 5 p.m. to one hour after the dining room closes; Saturday, 4 p.m. to one hour after dining room closes. Wheelchair accessible.