TUTTI SANTI REVIEW

by Candy Lesher-Shermerhorn

Historically, Italians have had a knack for taking a variety of unpretentious ingredients and producing magnificent, harmonious dishes, and the fare at Tutti Santi is no exception.

Italy is home to many of the most glorious classic dishes found in the modern world. So is it any wonder that half the Valley eateries owe their roots to Italian cuisine? Be it economical pizza, pasta and subs, or pricier bistros and trattatorias, Italian cuisine has become Americas own.

Even at its finest, Italian food is without pretense. Classic ingredients and proportions have, through the years, established a well-recognized familiarity. Americans find a reassuring quality to this culinary intimacy, which is why restaraunts like Tutti Santi (under the guise of "all in the line of duty" no less). Like I say, "Life is good".

I chose Tutti Santi's Phoenix location, tucked into the corner of a modest center off 16th Street, since I had yet to visit that site. A small table set outside the entrance displaying the menu was positive beginning. I believe most everyone prefers to know what is offered and how dear the charge, before crossing that potentially oh-so-embrassing point of no return.

Entering, the split narrow vestibule, one can choose to relax in their cozy little bar or get right down to business in the inviting, elongated dining room. Hunger drove my cohort and I to the dining room, a testefully designed area featuring two rows of diagonally arranged tables, each attractively set with crisp linens and gleaming glassware. High ceilings and a seamless floor-to-ceiling mirror at the far end lend this modest space a sence of expansiveness, a feeling magnified by a wall of glass, framed with red velvet curtains. This makes a delightful focal point of the surpisingly secluded and picturesque patio. For those desiring privacy, there's also an exclusive second floor dining room. The whole makes for an appealing sharm befitting casual al fresco noshes or late-night multi-course refinement. The menu delivers, too.

Historically, Italians have had a knack for taking a variety of unpretentious ingredients and producing magnificent, harmonious dishes, and the fare at Tutti Santi is no exception. The offering is pleasantly familiar, void of challenging permutations requiring you envision the dish before deciding its appeal. Take for example, Ravioli alla Nina. Homemade pasta surrounds a simple filling of ricotta and spinach, which is boiled, then gently flash-simmered in cream. Topped with a burst of ripe red tomato, these simple pasta pillows were a taste of paradise. The good news, they're offered in entree portions. The bad news, I hadn't noticed and ordered a mere appetizer portion.

For other notable appetizers, there's the carpaccio of prime fillet, tranclucently sliced, buttery tender, chastely sesoned and beautifully presented. The classic caprese quartet of house made mozzarella, tomatoes, basil and olive oil was eloquent, and tender black mussels, ordered en brodo will not dissapoint. The cowning glory of Tutti Santi's appetizer was their antipasto. Fine Italian prosciutto, paper-slim slices of melon, fresh mozzarella, ripe diced tomatoes sporting a gloss of olive oil and kalamata olives were but a few of the morsels presented on this platter for two. A basket of toasted foccacia proved the perfect means to soak up every last delectable pool of that flavor-some oil.

Again, familiar entrees were rewarding. A shank of braised lamb in an intensely rich stock was a rustic, hearty dish, its tenderness exemplifying the classic, lengthly preparation. Veal Marsala was also made in the classic fashion, but suffered from a common malady. To keep from drying the meat, the breaded cutlet is cooked at too low a temp, thwarting the browning process and leaving an underlying flavor of uncooked flour. In all honesty, my dining partner could not discern the raw flavour and thought it was one of the best they'd had, the dish receiving a huge boost from a scrumptious marsala wine sauce with mushrooms.

When it comes to pasta, Tutti Santi is bravura, and their Sfogline (pasta makers) deserve a standing ovation. Linguine del Marianio was one of their most memorable dishes. Picked with fresh clams (offered in the more flavorful fashion, served in their petite shells), mussels, calmari and shrimp, each was appropriately prepared and served in a straightforward sauce of gently seasoned tomatoes. Like so many dishes of this style, the whole transcends the sum of the parts. Another must-have-when-I-go-back dish was the spaghetti romantica with shrimp. Large (so fresh they are almost crisp) brandy sauteed shrimp were bathed in a sauce duer (cream and tomato), and then ladled over a bed of spaghetti. But diner beware, if you have a romantic evening in mind, avoid this entree at all cost. Why? You'll expend so much attention on this dish that your dining partner will feel ignored (or worse yet, they might even want you to share).

Now, don't get me wrong, Tutti Santi has signature dishes too, my favorite being the chicken imperiale. A generous chicken breast was stuffed with a satisfying mix of crab and shrimp, breaded then sauteed and served in a light (fresh) mushroom sauce. Not classic, but quite gratifying nonetheless.

In the dessert category, we enjoyed the cheesecake's flavor, but the texture was a bit dry for my taste. Cannoli however was worth the trip alone. Now, I acknowledge the preference for cannoli from the Northern most reaches of Italy, filled with velvety Italian pastry cream. Therefore, cannoli filled with ricotta cheese has never been a sweets priority. However, at Tutti Santi, they take the time to first puree the ricotta then whip it to a silky creaminess, then accent it with just the exact amount of sugar (and vanilla?). It's presented in a super crisp shell topped with a shifting of powdered sugar. Creme brulee and other offerings are quite satisfying, too. Still, the cannoli is the perfect reflection of what Italian cuisine exemplifes, simple ingredients, impeccably prepared and presented with heart.

Presented with heart? "Let me tell you about the 'heart' at Tutti Santi". On visit two, owner Leonardo brought out a dish for an elderly patron, and spontaneously broke into a glorious, room-filling, opera-style version of "Mama". Every person in the place was transfixed, forks held mid-air, betrayed only by an occasional trembling when chills coursed down the spine. On the last note there was a rousing round of applause from the packed restaraunt, and nearly all had to wipe an eye or two. Now THAT is what I call the heart of classic Italian cuisine.