My ex and I used to speak often and adoringly of taking each other to dinner at I Fratellini, Clayton's inconspicuous little bistro that opened late in 2001. Our cooey little hollow promises were always exchanged during the upswings of our relationship, the times when we weren't castigating each other into premature graves. Like much about our union, this particular fairy tale was based on a facade; we were headily drawn to the boîte's blush-colored edifice and romantic stalks of wrought iron, especially that one time we rode past on a wintry, nighttime, just-for-fun drive, his Jeep's top rolled down and my lap warmed by a blanket, like some sort of rugged yuletide sleigh for idiots who don't know any better.
As it happened, we broke up without ever having made it to the restaurant, I met someone else, and when my someone else asked me to marry him, I agreed, and it was with him that I finally crossed I Fratellini's threshold for the first time. I am happy to report that both my fiancé and I Fratellini were worth the wait.
Had he not proposed already, I would have literally arm-twisted my betrothed down to bended knee the moment we arrived for our Saturday-night reservation. I Fratellini's interior is enchanting, abuzz with a sort of seductive warmth I'll call Euromantic. The room's two oversized light fixtures—each a gathered bouquet of dozens of light bulbs dangling from naked cords—made my head swim with possibilities (of creative ways to decorate our first apartment, I suppose). In the back awaited a tiny, granite-topped bar and cocktail menu, throwbacks from halcyon days. I ordered a French 75—when was the last time anybody ordered a French 75?—and exchanged sweet ain't-that-somethings with my beau about the sleek open-air kitchen that also dwells in back.
Now, I know that true love isn't all moonbeams and whiz-bangs. I know about the work (which, if you're lucky, doesn't feel like work at all) necessary to keep the old feeling new. And when we finally sat down at a table, to an Italian-skewed menu heavy on all the old familiars, the thought did cross my mind that I Fratellini might wind up in the regrettable one-night-stand column. I'm no spring chicken when it comes to restaurant reviewing. I've been to the rodeo, and I've stomached more than my fair share of eggplant Parm, steamed mussels in tomato broth, lobster ravs, anything-but-New American standbys like grilled duck breast and pan-seared salmon. I wasn't sure about finding love the umpteenth time around.
Turned out I was wrong (and I can admit that). When our appetizers arrived, we tucked into a lofty pile of firm, sautéed shrimp, wrapped in prosciutto and bathed in olive oil and garlic, perched atop thick slabs of divine bruschetta. It was huge, it was wellbalanced, it was idiosyncratic, it won us over instantly. Our Caprese salad proved equally attention-worthy, as few Caprese salads do, thanks to an unorthodox sprinkling of kalamata olives, adding vim and vigor to the usually mellow dish.
Thank goodness I'm marrying a man who doesn't mind my fork hovering around his dinner plate. I was relentless with the scalloped potatoes that accompanied his beef tenderloin, the former delectably creamy, the latter plump, pink, and presented at a near-perfect medium. But I was equally enamored of my sea scallops. These were pancetta-wrapped, a typical treatment. Served above a lemonand thyme-spiked pool of cannellini beans, though? Around these parts, that's a pairing as unexpected as meeting Mr. Right.
I must shower similar praise upon our chosen dessert, panna cotta. Why isn't the dish more prevalent here? Perhaps its mild sweetness or gelatinous texture is just too unfamiliar. Personally, I love the stuff, and I Fratellini's is a panna cotta well worth getting to know. Who knows, maybe you'll find yourself falling in love, too.
Bottom line: Suave takes on Italian cuisine dished up in cozy environs make I Fratellini a great date-night spot.
7624 Wydown
Clayton
314-727-7901
Lunch Mon–Fri, dinner Mon–Sat
Average Main Course: $22
Chef: Ny Vongsaly
Dress: Clayton casual
Reservations: With only 35 seats, by all means
