It was Saturday lunchtime. It was packed. People were being turned away. And it was easy to see why, because Il Pastifico specialises in big flavours and unfussy presentation in that classically Italian way that you want from your local restaurant. Service was unhurried yet exactly what we were after on a weekend, pram and all. It's not a large space- it's the former home of KL Canolog- but it punches above its weight.
The menu leans heavily on the starters and small plates approach, with only a few mains supplemented by a roster of daily specials- all of which sounded remarkably toothsome. I still don't know which higher power enabled me to go against type and resist the fillet steak with melted Gorgonzola, or the lobster dish with its invitation to meet said crustacean beforehand.
Complimentary fresh bread with olive oil and sweet balsamic arrives quickly; I amuse myself admiring Chef Walter's skill as he makes their pasta on the front counter, for diners' orders and for deli counter takeaway.
Two small plates to start; bruschetta and meatballs.The meatballs, in a perky sauce heady with oregano, hid nuggets of mortadella among their coarse herby mince. Rich tomato, basil leaves, flecks of grated Parmesan: this was hearty home cooking and precisely the kind of thing that is so easy to get blandly wrong. This plate was proof positive that simple ingredients combined with skill are a shortcut to happiness.
The bruschetta were even better; lightly toasted slices, the edges still crisp, topped with a homemade fennel-scented sausage and roasted cherry tomatoes. The salty-sharp tang of blue cheese ran throughout, a trace of balsamic sweetness crisscrossed the plate, a substantial plate of considerable (and considered) flavours.
'Starters' duly dispatched, that jet-black pasta arrived, coiled in a spaghetti ai frutti di mare. Whenever I order anything like this, I want plenty. I want a meal that replicates, or hints at, the bounty of the oceans. Daft, I know, but stinginess with seafood should be punishable by exile. And not just exile to some inhospitably rocky outpost, but the punishment should include subjection to aural torture. An infinitely-looped playlist of the leaden porridge that passed for 'indie' in the early years of the century should do it. 'Skimp on the shrimp, would you? It's The Kooks and The Fratellis for you!'
Happily, this was far from the case here. Mussels in their shells, tiny sweet cockles, prawns, little rosettes of squid, one hulking prawn setting the whole shebang off; and of course that black spaghetti, silky in its tomato and basil sauce. Again, a hefty portion and I'd advise coming here hungry or not at all to get the best from the experience.
My wife's king prawns, simply grilled and their shells blistered from the fierce heat, sat atop a mound of red cabbage spiked with chilli. The only way to eat these is to abandon all niceties and crack and tug and suck the sweet meat and those tangy juices from every nook, and I have a deep-seated mistrust of those who won't. Hearty food, gutsy food, food to be enjoyed with gusto and wine (the Puglian Amanti del Vino Primitivo was excellent at £3.95).
I rarely eat dessert, but brought home a portion of the tiramisu. Which became my breakfast this morning, but that's by the by. What's clear is that Head Chef Walter, who has arrived here by way of Amici, Pulcinella, Lorenza's and others, has found somewhere to settle and to flourish, and this partnership with his uncle is bearing fruit. With Chaiholics' reinvention as an evening Indian bistro next door, Wellfield Road has recently become an unlikely- and some might say, overdue- dining destination.
Now you know about it, don't leave it as long as I did.
Il Pastificio
Unit 5,
Globe Centre,
Wellfield Road,
Cardiff
CF24 3NZ
(029) 2049 4138
The menu leans heavily on the starters and small plates approach, with only a few mains supplemented by a roster of daily specials- all of which sounded remarkably toothsome. I still don't know which higher power enabled me to go against type and resist the fillet steak with melted Gorgonzola, or the lobster dish with its invitation to meet said crustacean beforehand.
Complimentary fresh bread with olive oil and sweet balsamic arrives quickly; I amuse myself admiring Chef Walter's skill as he makes their pasta on the front counter, for diners' orders and for deli counter takeaway.
Two small plates to start; bruschetta and meatballs.The meatballs, in a perky sauce heady with oregano, hid nuggets of mortadella among their coarse herby mince. Rich tomato, basil leaves, flecks of grated Parmesan: this was hearty home cooking and precisely the kind of thing that is so easy to get blandly wrong. This plate was proof positive that simple ingredients combined with skill are a shortcut to happiness.
'Starters' duly dispatched, that jet-black pasta arrived, coiled in a spaghetti ai frutti di mare. Whenever I order anything like this, I want plenty. I want a meal that replicates, or hints at, the bounty of the oceans. Daft, I know, but stinginess with seafood should be punishable by exile. And not just exile to some inhospitably rocky outpost, but the punishment should include subjection to aural torture. An infinitely-looped playlist of the leaden porridge that passed for 'indie' in the early years of the century should do it. 'Skimp on the shrimp, would you? It's The Kooks and The Fratellis for you!'
My wife's king prawns, simply grilled and their shells blistered from the fierce heat, sat atop a mound of red cabbage spiked with chilli. The only way to eat these is to abandon all niceties and crack and tug and suck the sweet meat and those tangy juices from every nook, and I have a deep-seated mistrust of those who won't. Hearty food, gutsy food, food to be enjoyed with gusto and wine (the Puglian Amanti del Vino Primitivo was excellent at £3.95).
I rarely eat dessert, but brought home a portion of the tiramisu. Which became my breakfast this morning, but that's by the by. What's clear is that Head Chef Walter, who has arrived here by way of Amici, Pulcinella, Lorenza's and others, has found somewhere to settle and to flourish, and this partnership with his uncle is bearing fruit. With Chaiholics' reinvention as an evening Indian bistro next door, Wellfield Road has recently become an unlikely- and some might say, overdue- dining destination.
Now you know about it, don't leave it as long as I did.
Il Pastificio
Unit 5,
Globe Centre,
Wellfield Road,
Cardiff
CF24 3NZ
(029) 2049 4138
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