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Type: Italian
Prices: Appetizers and salads: $7-$15; entrees: $15-$27; desserts: $6-$8.
Good choices: Antipasto La Campania; ricotta gnocchi in tomato-basil sauce; spaghettini with prawns, mussels, oysters, calamari; veal steak with wild mushrooms, port wine sauce; beef ribeye, green olive-mushroom reduction; cinammon creme brulee; tiramisu
Hours: Mon.-Thur. 5-10, Fri.- Sat 5-11.
Reservations accepted for tables of four or more.
Nonsmoking.
Credit cards: MasterCard, American Express, Visa, Diners.
Access: Fully accessible.
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TRATTORIA LA CAMPANIA
504 Main St., Waltham
781-894-4280
Restaurant reviewed 07/30/98 by Alison Arnett
There's almost nothing more appealing on a summer's night than Italian food. And now that nearly every neighborhood has one or two Italian restaurants, it's a natural choice.
Several years ago, neighborhood Italian would have been pizza or maybe simple Italo-American pastas. That was then. Nowadays rustic Italian has gone aggressively upscale with elaborate dishes, descriptions, and presentations. And prices to match.
Named for the Italian region around Naples, Trattoria La Campania creates its own little world in Waltham by sheltering its outdoor garden from busy Main Street with climbing vines and a plethora of decorative elements -- baskets, lanterns, flowers, and stacks of Italian tomato cans. This is a family restaurant in the truest sense, according to John Maione, the chef and one of the owners, who operates the restaurant with his mother, father, brother, aunt, and other relatives.
The interior is just as lively, decorated with all sorts of hanging dried herbs, wreaths fashioned from wine corks, and every sort of Italian memento. A wood-burning oven dominates the open kitchen where workers move meats and casseroles around with wooden pallets, adding another element of entertainment. Even on a sultry Tuesday night, there's plenty of action inside and out.
La Campania started out a year and a half ago as a smaller pizza and pasta place, later expanding to 65 seats with a more ambitious menu. The best elements of the place show the care and attention of the family. Breads, all started with biga (a natural sponge) and left to rise for 24 hours, then baked in the wood-fired oven, were wonderful, dense and chewy. Gnocchi, tiny ones filled with ricotta, are handmade and formed by Maione's mother. Their delicacy and lightness were worth the trouble for the eater, although a little less tomato-basil sauce would have let them shine more. A simple antipasti of buffalo mozzarella, prosciutto di Parma drizzed with olive oil and served with grilled crostini, was exceptional because of the quality of the ingredients, understandable when one watches the prosciutto being carefully sliced to order in the open kitchen.
At some points, the place felt a little frenetic and the food sometimes did, too, as though the chef and his staff were attempting too much in this consistently busy restaurant. Some dishes were delicious, fulfilling that burst of flavor one hopes for in Italian food; others missed the mark. A big bowl of spaghettini brimmed with mussels and oysters in their shells, calamari, and a large prawn (this crustacean resembles a little lobster, and tastes of both shrimp and lobster). The broth was briny, and there was just enough to coat the pasta but not overpower the shellfish.
Beef ribeye, a large portion grilled over oak, was delicious, carefully prepared medium-rare as ordered. The plate also contained grilled roasted red peppers drizzled with balsamic vinegar, a square of potato gratin, green olives, mushrooms, and some greens. There was a lot going on here, mostly good. A veal steak, a special one evening, had the same virtues, perfectly cooked meat of good quality and a more than generous portion. The port wine reduction sauce just gilded the meat along with some sauteed wild mushrooms. A sweet and sour carrot and fennel salad was just the right accompaniment. The garnishment of a couple more raw carrots was pretty, if a bit odd.
La Campania follows the Italian restaurant tradition of spreading antipasti, or appetizers, on a table in the front of the kitchen. The dishes are beautiful to see, and when we ordered a selection, the waitress brought an abundantly filled platter. Some of the antipasti sparkled, especially radicchio leaves filled with herbed goat cheese, a tomato half with an herb and bread crumb filling, and some garlicky broccoli rape. But the selection seemed heavy on eggplant -- grilled eggplant, stuffed eggplant, breaded and fried eggplant -- all of it a little too heavily soaked in oil.
On the other hand, spinach farfalle, homemade and very good with enough texture to be interesting to eat, needed a bit more action in the flavoring. Snap peas, asparagus, and oyster mushrooms were pleasant and the oven-roasted yellow tomatoes hit nice strong acid tones, but overall the dish was rather pallid, calling for more herbs. We didn't order it with shrimp, and maybe the dish was designed with that added flavor note in mind.
Timing in a restaurant meal is everything, and one evening at La Campania went beautifully, the helpful waitress smoothly making sure our food was delivered promptly. She was especially gracious to the children in our party, making them feel special.
Another occasion, a languorous evening on the patio, had quite another rhythm. It's always difficult to tell what happens when the time sequence of a dinner goes off-kilter, whether the kitchen gets backed up or the wait staff is hard-pressed. In this case, the wait between first and second course was over-long, the evening stretching into boredom. Then the rack of lamb arrived most certainly well-done and not medium-rare as ordered. When the waiter was alerted, he began cutting into the meat himself to test it, a maneuver I can't recall seeing before. Yes, it was definitely well over medium-rare, he admitted, then lamely asked if the order should be put in again while warning that it would take time. No compensation was offered. The whole fish, a very nice sea bass simply roasted in foil with vegetables, was also a tad overcooked.
Desserts are prepared by John Maione, who worked for several years at the Four Seasons Hotel. On the overdone lamb night, the ice cream in a filo dough creation seemed overwrought, too much froufrou. However, on the next visit, the frilly desserts matched our moods, soothed by more congenial service. Tiramisu came in an oversized martini glass, all creamy chocolate mousse-like layers with the hint of coffee and soft ladyfingers. Thick vanilla creme brulee topped with a cinnamony crust was a fine indulgence, its surface decorated with edible marigolds.
It's those little touches -- the excellent bread, the flowers, the lovely shellfish with pasta -- that make La Campania special. Perhaps simplifying the dishes a little and smoothing out the timing should make it a neighborhood treasure. An electrical fire damaged Trattoria La Campania after this review was in production. Chef and co-owner John Maione said the restaurant will reopen within two weeks. Call the restaurant for further information.
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