by Julie Reitsma
Umbria, a spiffy region of Italy that borders Tuscany, is known for a simple, tasty cuisine that is chockfull of fresh ingredients. In Toronto, you can indulge in these fantastic flavours at La Bruschetta, the famed, yet unassuming, boîte in Corso Italia. Whether you’re visiting for a taste of their spanking new Umbrian menu or one of their just-introduced cooking classes, your experience at La Bruschetta will begin with plates. Covering the entrance, and signed by a hodgepodge of celebrity-dom—we can’t be the only one who squealed with nostalgia at spotting Luba’s—the dishware acts as a message to any new customer, to soothe any doubts running through their pretty little minds: the fêted La Bruschetta, loved by the likes of Ryan Gosling and Benicio Del Toro, is maybe not what you expected; this is no nouvelle cuisine (they’ve been around for 29 years, after-all), the décor is decidedly not designer, but the Piantoni family know the best in home cooked Italian, and with fans as yummy as these, it would stand to reason—surely your dinner will be as well.

We were summoned to St. Clair West, along with a bevy of lovely ladies, for an introduction to La Bruschetta’s Umbrian additions. Never have we been introduced to anything with such enthusiasm, abundance, and, later on, so much cursing about high-waisted skinny jeans. Once we started, with bread and painfully addictive peppers in oil, we barely got a breath in, except for the obligatory sips of wine and smatterings of conversation (“is Justin Bobby to blame, or is it Audrina’s eyeliner?”). Creamy, meaty, Wild Liver Paté was next up, served on a delightfully crunchy Rosemary Crostini, which only lost points on a too liberal drizzling of oil. The Insalata Umbra played on a contrasting combination of flavours—sweet figs, bitey gorgonzola, and smooth king oyster mushrooms—that were fresh, and with just a dash of dressing, likely the lightest thing we ate. Gamberoni Alla Sambuca, worthy of a place on the podium, quickly followed. The shrimp, so huge we’re having a hard time resisting the puns, were bathed in a ridiculously creamy tomato sauce, spiked with Sambucan aniseedy sweetness. Artichokes stuffed with a golden brown fritter-like concoction of bread crumbs, parmesan and mint had a nice, warm texture.

After a short pause, the second onslaught hit our table. Perfectly pillow-like Gnocchi Gratinati, in a creamy cheese sauce, was second serving worthy, and the Filetto di Todi, tender veal wrapped with prosciutto, asparagus and smoked cheese, had many of our dinner companions swooning. For us, the gold medal has to go to the Ravioli di Castagne, one of two raviolis served up. Though we initially thought we’d favour the Wild Boar variety, we were completely enchanted with these chestnut filled delights, served in the lightest of buttery sauces, accented by sage, the ingredients were simple, and the flavours were as close to perfection as we’ve encountered in pocket pasta. We could have easily forgone the rest of the meal and settled down with this for the night, but it was not to be. Instead, we finished our epicurean travels with an Americano, a martini glass filled with tartufo soaking in hazelnut liqueur, and, lastly, a wee slice of the traditional Umbrian Christmas dessert—a chocolate and nut slice that was fruit cake dense, with almost floral undertones, and the unexpected punch of black pepper.

As we rolled ourselves out of La Bruschetta that night, we already knew we’d be back soon. Not only is the atmosphere warm and homey, the food to-die-for deliziosa, and the prices right (all items range from $9 to $27), but with their cooking classes starting up (from $75), we’re tempted to learn how to be mistresses of Umbrian cuisine in our own right. Then again, if we don’t go back for the eating, we’ll never get the off-chance experience of stuffing ourselves with pasta while gazing at Sofia Loren, Mary-Kate Olson (seriously), or whatever other fabulous celeb has decided to add another plate to the wall.