Tortello
Tortello is popular, and I loved the food.
Generally speaking, I feel fairly comfortable talking about my food preferences and eating experiences without letting other people's opinions or experiences cloud my judgment or muddy my thoughts. It is rare for me to regret recommending a poorly perceived place that I enjoy. I’m equally comfortable setting limited expectations for a societally acclaimed restaurant if my experience warrants it.
Italian food, though - and pasta in particular - has always been my kryptonite in this respect. I am not sure why I have such a hard time confidently defending my opinions on pasta. Part of me believes that I struggle to reconcile speaking glowingly about something so black and white. Were the noodles al dente? Was the sauce good? Great! That feels reductive, but my genuine attempts at asking more from myself usually fall fairly flat.
Tortello was a bit different, though. I still racked my brain trying to explain to my fiancée what I enjoyed so much about the food and the experience, but I had some answers. The ratio of pasta to sauce felt appropriate, the flavors were clear but not overwhelming, the spice level in the Aglio Olio e Peperoncino was ideal, and as a whole, it elicited that feeling of "full, but not heavy." I didn't leave hungry, but I didn't need a nap afterward. It felt simple and complex all the same.
That said, the pricing demands more than simply being “well-cooked with a good sauce.” There is no illusion here about what you are paying for. You order at the counter, seat yourself, and wait for your food. There is no service to justify the bill, no atmosphere to lean on. The cost lives almost entirely in the pasta itself.
Depending on how you look at it, that can be either a feature or a bug. On one hand, it removes the pretense. It forces a kind of honesty about value that many restaurants obfuscate. A similar plate at a sit-down spot would likely cost 10-15% more once service and higher tipping are factored in, and here, that premium is stripped away.
On the other hand, that transparency raises the bar. When you are paying almost exclusively for the food, “good” starts to feel like the minimum, not the goal.
Spending 91 USD for two pastas, a focaccia, and two flavored carbonated drinks is no small feat, even if those drinks were 7 dollars a piece. I wanted to give this one more half-star, but by the end, the price ultimately matched the quality. I am left thinking that it is well worth a visit in that you will get what you pay for - but not in the sense that you will leave in awe.
She paid, though, so maybe that's all it was.