Good choices: Seared sea scallops with roasted pepper jus; polenta with wild mushroom broth and pungent herbs; warm artichoke salad with peppery greens; fettucine with roasted eggplant and saffron sauce; roasted shrimp oil risotto; sauteed sea bass with parsley sauce and sweet spices; blueberry and green apple granita.
Reservations accepted. Smoking and nonsmoking rooms.
Credit cards: None.
Access: Fully accessible.
MARCUCCIO'S
125 Salem St., Boston
(617) 723-1807
Restaurant reviewed 7/28/97 by Alison Arnett
Even as the Big Dig construction seemingly draws a noose around the North End, a restaurant explosion is taking place. Salem Street has long been the quieter of the two main thoroughfares in the area's cramped blocks, at least after dark, when its butcher shops and bakeries shut their doors. But lately, the profusion of restaurants sprinkled in among the street's day businesses are rivaling Hanover Street. All of the North End resembles the evening street life of a European village.
Of all the places that have sprung up in the past two years or so, Marcuccio's definitely wins the prize for hip, a radical departure in appearance from the cozy style of most North End restaurants. The ceilings soar; the artwork is faux classical with broken pediments and stretched canvases of artfully posed Botticellis. The walls are exposed brick; the gleaming stainless-steel kitchen is open to the back of the room; the music is jazzy and loud. SoHo meets the North End, one thinks, looking around at pretty plates of architecturally arranged food being carried to tables of stylishly dressed diners.
Opened earlier this year by owner Mark Regnetta with executive chef Charles Draghi, Marcuccio's aims high. Draghi was formerly sous chef at Ambrosia and had worked at the Marais, among other places. The influences, especially from Ambrosia, show in his interpretations of Italian dishes. When he's on, the natural beauty of the ingredients gleams through the presentations, their goodness enhanced by Draghi's treatments.
Salads and all sorts of greens get loving care here. Arugula leaves rise high on a plate, dressed with balsamic vinaigrette with a nice kick, and sprinkled with a few slices of apple and crunchy fennel. Warm artichoke salad is especially tasty, its brightly acidic dressing bouncing against dark greens and the mild artichoke.
An appetizer of plump seared scallops over a celery root puree was drizzled with roasted pepper jus, the contrasts in flavors and textures very pleasing. But the bite of the broccoli rabe, its slight bitterness perfect against the creaminess of scallops, made the best impression.
Draghi, in a telephone interview, explained that he reaches for simplicity, to evoke Italian cuisine as it's really done, without heavy sauces or butter. That's readily apparent in a fragrant bowl of blue mussels, the broth filled with an abundance of sweet onions and rosemary.
Understanding that aim in a more complicated dish, such as an appetizer of polenta in mushroom broth, requires thought. This is certainly not your everyday polenta, at least not as we tend to think of it here. A small oval of polenta is studded with a few wild mushrooms and sprinkled with lots of herbs. The edges of the big bowl-like plate are swirled with dark, sweet balsamic vinegar. Underneath the polenta is a thin brothy sauce. It's very pretty and quite minimalist. But the first bite dispells any fear that there won't be enough to engage the taste buds. The broth is delicious, giving a lovely depth of flavor to the polenta; the swirls of balsamic add a spiky contrast.
Despite the absence of butter, many of the pasta dishes taste rich. Fettucine with roasted eggplant and onions pureed into a sauce strongly flavored with saffron is delicious but so filling that more than a few forkfuls was too much.
A summery dish of maccheroni, corn, sun-dried tomatoes, green onions, and herbs swam in a corn broth, the vegetable essence giving it a sweetness. Risottos were lovingly made, the grains distinct and firm but creamy. In one, a sweet onion sauce dissolved into the saffron-flecked risotto topped by two big grilled shrimp. Another, showered with loosely cut scallions, was infused with white truffle oil, simple yet luxurious.
Sauteed sea bass with parsley sauce was delicious, Draghi's theory sparkling into full bloom. The thick cut of bass bore a crusty top and yet was creamy inside, the natural flavor of the fish predominant. The crackle, Draghi explained later, occurred because the scales and skin were left on the fish as it sauteed slowly, skin side down until the natural fat crisped the exterior. Then the flesh side was sprinkled with herbs and cooked gently through. The resulting dish is quite remarkable, served with big white navy beans, wonderful greens, and a mild pesto of parsley.
Salmon with a black pepper sauce, chopped tomato, and small white beans had a vibrancy in its clear-cut, bold approach. The salmon was moist and fine, the sauce just enough to bring out the salmon's richness with its astringency.
But there were also times when form overwhelmed function, when the result seems silly instead of inspired. The balsamic drizzled over almost all the dishes was good at first but after a while one's fingers began to feel sticky.
Lobster agnolotti looked like no other filled pasta I've seen, the nuggets of lobster hiding under loose tentlike pasta filled with smoked salmon. A whole head of grilled radicchio anchored one side of the plate, and all swam in a rich sauce. The little carapace of lobster, complete with antennae, astride the dish looked as lost as we did in figuring out how to attack the meal.
A deconstructed Caesar salad was highly decorative but needed a gutsier dressing to hold all those little pieces together. An odd dessert of a fig, not ripe enough for eating out of hand, was split into quarters and smooshed into a mound of mascarpone, drizzled with too little honey to give any cohesion to the dish. However, blueberry granita and a green apple version were perfect endings, outclassing a pear granita that was much too sweet.
Marcuccio would have been much more endearing if the service had been more consistent. One night, the waiter was attentive and helpful until the final moments of the meal, when he disappeared, forgetting requested milk for coffee, forgetting to tell us about desserts as he had promised, just plain forgetting.
The next visit brought a handsome waiter so interested in his reflection in the plate glass window that attending to us seemed secondary. He repeatedly stopped conversations with his recitations, mispronounced everything, and instantly forgot all requests.
Also, it may be true that cash only, rather than credit cards, keeps the prices down, as the management says. Most of the dishes are reasonably priced, but the tab adds up and one wonders who consistently carries around that much cash.
But Marcuccio's is indeed hip, and for the most part the food is excellent, an exciting addition to the restaurant-rich North End.
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