720 Queen St W
Toronto, ON
416-504-0320
Located on Queen West, Terroni isn't tough to spot during dinner hours: it's the place with the line that spills out the front door and down the block. No reservations allowed, you'd better come early or dress for the weather. The place has been a local favourite since its establishment in 1992 as an espresso bar and Italian market, attracting artistes and mammas alike with quality product. As the neighborhood around it grew into Toronto's indie mecca, Terroni's rep became trendy and elegant with an emphasis on fresh and simple southern Italian fare; the perfect place to take that girl or guy you met at the Strokes show in '01. Condo developers and designer brand names have begun to infiltrate the Queen West scene, but Terroni remains a popular haunt for hips and squares all the same.
The Terroni experience begins with their oft-maligned service and ends with their frequently fawned-over food; all of which is set in their 'authentic' Neapolitan atmosphere. It feels more like a movie set from an Italian film than a real trattoria, Fellini posters and other modern Italian adverts grace the exposed brick walls not lined with bottles of olive oil or tins of pomodoro. Seated at a rustic and rather undersized table for two, my counterpart and I browse substantial menus; more than a dozen starters preface three dozen pastas and pizzas, very authentically named. These things should come with a pronunciation guide. No matter, our server delights at the chance to correct my stab at ordering the Scattagengive pizza; a thin crust pie topped with a simple San Marzano tomato sauce, mozzarella, hot cacciatore salami and spicy provolone. My companion nails the Gnocchi alla Simi; tossed in the tomato sauce with ricotta, Parmigiano and fresh basil. She's impressed.
The aforementioned, maligned service is illustrated by what happens next. As our server retrieves the menus my counterpart quickly requests extra ricotta on the Gnocchi and is flatly denied. Terroni policy, she explains, strictly forbids any and all modifications or additions to orders. Opening one of the menus she points out the relevant disclaimer which states such requests "compromise the unique characteristics of [their] food" and urges patrons to "respect [their] menu." Aware of the policy, I always enjoy the inevitable debate that follows. The customer-is-always-right knee jerk response is predictable and undoubtedly responsible for the scattered trash reviews of Terroni's service. But in us, the policy inspires an odd sort of respect. There's something to be said for a place of business that stands so firmly behind the product they serve.
Of course all is forgotten when the food arrives. Terroni's well deserved rep for the city's best thin-crust is once again met and surpassed. The perfectly crisp crust carries their mouth-watering signature sauce with a rich sweetness that can only come from fresh San Marzanos. The saltiness of the salami and provolone is a flawless counterpoint, all strung together by the gooey mozzarella that requires folding to keep under control; this is everything you could want in a true Italian pizza. My friend's gnocchi is equally delicious, even if the portion is a bit undersized--to match the table I guess. The same rich tomato sauce envelops each of the silky smooth, perfectly cooked morsels, promoting speedy consumption. Truth be told, it could have used more ricotta, and the basil was a mere garnish, but Terroni otherwise knocked the very traditional execution out of the park.
In all, Terroni left us pleasantly satisfied, not overstuffed, with a bill pushing CDN$50. That's middle of the road for quality Italian fare, but I can't help but think at least some of that charge is paying for the surreal interior design. It's too busy to be cozy or to rid you of that anonymous customer feeling, but the food is well worth it, well worth it.
by Brady Baker
[Photos: Andree Lau and Chris Earle]
