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Friday, November 29, 2002

By Sarah Billingsley, Post-Gazette Staff Writer

When you enter Sarafino's restaurant, you walk into an embrace. The warm air, rich with the fragrance of herbs, tomatoes, garlic, olive oil and yeasty, steaming pizza dough, immediately suffuses you.

	Joe Caliguire, owner of Sarafino's, holds a portrait of his grandmother Magdalena Theresa Mareno, who passed down the family recipes. (Annie O'Neill, Post-Gazette)

The mood is festive. Laughing families, at their long, noisy tables, barely flinch when the door swings wide and a chill sweeps over the room. The oven glows, a tenor swells from the speakers and the waitress weaves through tables bearing a wide white bowl of linguine Bolognese, with two fat meatballs on the side. Welcome.

Sarafino's is all about family, specifically owner Joe Caliguire's well-connected food family. His legacy is food, the slow-simmered sauces -- Bolognese and pomodoro -- and soups -- pasta fagioli, wedding soup -- all family recipes passed to him from the nurturing hands of his mother, Barbara Caliguire, and his grandma, Magdalena Theresa Mareno, a.k.a. "Duck," who learned them from her mother-in-law many, many years ago.

Caliguire's cousin is Sam Patti of La Prima, whose excellent coffee is served at the restaurant. Pizza-making is in Caliguire's blood: Grandma "Duck," the woman in the low-necked red gown who presides over the dining room from her lovely portrait near the entrance, owned Sarafino's pizzeria on Steubenville Pike in the 1960s and '70s.

Before opening Sarafino's in October of last year, Caliguire had La Pizza Del Pazzo in the Strip ("pizza of the crazies," because, Caliguire quips, "it's nuts down there"), a joint on Smallman that served far better slices than any bar hopper deserved to have at 1 a.m. outside of New York City.

The building Sarafino's occupies used to be Choice Pharmacy, and before that it was the Crafton Show, the theater where as a boy Caliguire saw "The Graduate" with Grandma Duck, who covered his eyes at the sexy parts. It's a small space, so the tables are close. The former counter makes a tiny bar and the old drugstore cases are lined with Caliguire family photos.

The ceiling is hung with grapevines entwined with strings of lights, which twinkle in the wide picture window. The draft from the windows is tempered by the cheery soft lighting and the burnished gleam of old, polished wood.

Caliguire serves the sort of homestyle Italian the movie "Goodfellas" makes you hungry for, wholesome family food in the style the Buca Di Beppo chain attempts, but fails, to capture. At Sarafino's the recipes are homespun and traditional, the pasta treatments innovative and the merry spirit genuine, so the restaurant feels original and exuberant, never generic or pat.

Under Chef Demetrius Vari's able execution, the kitchen runs like clockwork. Sarafino's specials -- developed by both Vari and Caliguire -- change weekly, sometimes nightly. Sometimes pasta, sometimes roasted meat, the specials are always a good bet.

Homemade tortelacci ($16.95), chestnut-sized and shaped like fat hats, were plump with fresh ricotta and herbs, and served with sweet roasted zucchini, yellow squash and tomatoes in a light garlic cream. On another night, chicken fricasee ($13.95), a mellow, sophisticated cousin to comforting chicken noodle soup, was a rosemary-fragrant stew of chicken, celery, onion and wide ribbons of homemade pappardelle.

Chilean sea bass ($22) was a bit bland beneath its lightly browned pignoli crust, though paired with a delicious tumble of cappellini marinara and brilliant wilted greens

Sarafino's has few appetizers, but you'll be thankful they concentrate their efforts on the fine few. The beans and greens ($4.95) enchant nearly everyone who tries the combination of onions, garlicky cannellini beans and coins of hot, fennelly Fontanini sausage over sauteed spinach. The polenta ($4.95) has a nice, nutty flavor and perfect firmness. The roasted portobello ($5.95) is simple and light, served on a bed of spring greens in a light balsamic vinaigrette.

Antipasto salad ($9.95) was giant, and included the best of the Strip District, piled with imported provolone, fresh Parmesan, olives, sliced meats and intense fire-roasted tomatoes from Pennsylvania Macaroni Co.

Sarafino's meatball, which I tried as a side, was the best meatball I've had in a restaurant, a celebration of meaty succulence: melt-in-the-mouth tender, spiked with shards of julienne basil, moored in Caliguire's thick, plummy pomodoro sauce.

The menu offers mix-and-match pastas and sauces, including Alfredo, aglio e olio, fresh tomato basil and red and white clam, and pasta specials, all of which are excellent. The Pasquale's ($8.95), spinach, pine nuts, mushrooms and feta over penne, was light and the Sarafino's ($10.95), fettuccine tossed with a roasted red pepper sauce, was much richer, with the astringency of peppers and a mellow garlickyness.

Joey's Pazzo ($10.95) is linguine laden with tender grilled chicken, sauced with pomodoro and flush with fire-roasted tomatoes. Della's Spring Diavola ($9.95) was the favorite for its fresh peas, pancetta and thick rotini pasta to capture the frisky, spicy sauce.

Sarafino's pizza is luscious, with its straightforward tomato-garlic sauce and perfect crust: bubbly yet crisp, springy yet soft, textured by the grit of semolina and covered in a milky, chewy cheese. Caliguire uses Grande Prano, a mixture of whole milk provolone and mozzarella from Grande Cheese Company in Wisconsin, used by some of the finest pizzerias on the East Coast.

Desserts include a tiramisu ($3.50) that's dense as a cheesecake and a cheesecake ($3.50) that's dense as a block of Cheddar. The Mulberry Street Creamery gelato ($3.50), made in Kittanning, available in ever-changing flavors such as Pumpkin Pie, Peanut Butter Smoothie, Spumoni and Death by Chocolate, is not to be missed. It's served in a tall, frosted flute with long, old-fashioned spoons.

The service is friendly and fast, the waitresses young, nimble and enthusiastic. They seem to love the food as much as the Caliguires and all their loyal customers do, and they're ready with suggestions.

Sarafino's, though young in age, has a distinct and fully formed character, and appeal I hope never changes. It feels like a place that's been there forever, timeless in the way of great neighborhood restaurants, capturing the constancy and welcoming personality of a big, happy family.

Sarafino's
40 East Crafton Ave., Crafton
412-922-8911

Hours: 11:30 a.m. to 9:30 p.m. Mondays through Fridays, 4 to 10 p.m. Saturdays. Closed Sundays.

The basics: Homemade, happy, family Italian. Seating for 40; most major credit cards; no Discover. BYOB, corkage $2.50 per bottle. No smoking. Reservations available for parties of four or more. Handicap accessible; no handicap bathroom. Takeout available.

Star System:
(POOR);
to
(SUPERB).

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