Restaurant: Pomodoro Italian Grill & Seafood
Location: 6710 East Cave Creek Road, Cave Creek
Eats: Upscale Italian fare, wine, and craft cocktails
Open: About one month
Hours: 3 to 9 p.m. Tuesday to Sunday, 9 p.m. to midnight Friday and Saturday
Upon walking in, the first thing you might notice is how — thank goodness — the owners of Pomodoro Italian Grill & Seafood kept some of the fixtures from Cartwright’s Modern Cuisine, like the spindly, frozen wood décor that divides the bar area from the dining room.
You might also notice the white tablecloths. This spot remains an upscale dinner option in something of an Old West town. This is not a southern Italian, red-sauce joint, but instead a sleek, dim, dining experience. (Unless you sit at the bar, which is like an entirely different restaurant with a flatscreen, higher-volume conversations, and some happy hour deals.)
In the dining room, though, a masked server appears out of the darkness to pour everyone in your party a short glass of prosecco to toast to your health. That’s quickly followed by a plate of Gnocco Fritto, or little pillows of just-baked dough served with marinara sauce. Warm, good, a perfect starter.
Every new restaurant on earth has a craft cocktail menu, and Pomodoro is no exception. Options here include cutely named drinks like the Coco Chanel Cosmo, Capone’s Manhattan, and Gotta Be Illegal.
We ended up going with one of the more scenic options, the Viola Vesper, an extremely chilled, lavender-hued martini garnished with a lemon peel. It was subtly sweet and went down a little too easy. While the cocktails menu handed out at the restaurant details its ingredients, the online menu simply describes this drink as, “Stir, stir, stirred! Never shaken. We will right Bond's folly.” (Somewhere, Timothy Dalton just looked up from his newspaper.)
The Frittura Di Mare here is hand-battered, piping-hot calamari and shrimp served with a cup of marinara. It’s plated adorably in a rolled-down brown paper bag, which, like a to-go Philly cheesesteak, slowly displays larger and larger grease stains as the appetizer is picked over. The calamari was light on the breading and salty; pretty good, though no one was moaning in delight. The shrimp was a great accompaniment here, making us wish more places threw in shellfish with their calamari orders.
Pomodoro’s entrée menu lists pasta, meat, and seafood dishes — a comfortable amount of options without going nuts. We went with two styles of veal, piccata and marsala, and the lobster ravioli.
The veal cutlets were scaloppini, thin and flat but wide cuts. The marsala was topped with marsala wine and a good amount of mushrooms, the piccata with white wine and lemon sauce, and loads of capers. Both cuts were extremely tender.
The veal dishes here are sided with garlic and oil spaghetti. No thick toppings or heavy pastes; just the thin, somewhat spicy oil sauce. Speaking frankly, I could have taken down an entire popcorn bowl’s worth of this pasta side. The noodles were ideally cooked, and that mysteriously seasoned sauce was just sensational.
It was difficult to resist ordering the tiramisu and apple almond cake (especially in October), but divine intervention must have played a role in us ordering the cannoli — because it was maybe the highlight of the meal.
Four cannoli arrived log cabin-style, little crunchy cinnamon tubes packed with ricotta cream, the ends ground into cropped pistachio and drizzled heavily with what was maybe a raspberry syrup. The dessert was gorgeously plated, topped with blueberries, accompanied by whipped cream, a circling of that sweet syrup, and a heavy dusting of powdered sugar.
The service was warm and fantastic. Your questions will be answered. Your silverware will be changed with every course. You will not be held check hostage. And, if your grandfather should say something complimentary in Italian, as mine did, you might catch the attention of owner Federico Venturini, who will ask about your meal, what your last name is, and where your family is from.
Apart from the back windows opening to the untouched desert landscape and the carried-over Southwestern décor, you might forget you're a few paces from places like Buffalo Chip Saloon and Harold’s Cave Creek Corral. While those places are appropriate (and a hell of a lot of fun), Pomodoro restores balance in Cave Creek, a gap left by Cartwright’s.
Though that isn’t to say this place doesn’t have its own identity already.