Woman Around Town’s Editor Charlene Giannetti and writers for the website talk with the women and men making news in New York, Washington, D.C., and other cities around the world. Thanks to Ian Herman for his wonderful piano introduction.
Tiramisu is a popular Italian dessert made from lady’s fingers dipped in coffee, mascarpone cheese, cocoa, eggs, and sugar. In English, tiramisu means “pick me up,” “cheer me up,” or “lift me up.” So it’s fitting that Chef Luigi Diotaiuti’s Al Tiramisu does just that, particularly on a cold winter’s night.
The restaurant boasts a long list of celebrity fans. Photos of Diotaiuti with politicians, actors, and sports stars cover an entire wall and there’s a slide show on the website. After the death of Antonin Scalia, the restaurant was mentioned in a news story as one of the justice’s favorite dining spots.
Al Tiramisu is long and narrow with a small bar near the entrance and a fireplace in the rear. While our table in an alcove near the bar didn’t provide a view of the fire, the wait staff’s friendliness and attention created a warm and welcoming ambiance. Service was efficient without making us feel rushed.
We had plenty of time to peruse the menu and discuss the specials with our waiter. We enjoyed our cocktails along with a bread basket with focaccia that was served with a small ramekin of caponata.
We began with spedinii calamari sul let di lattughine, breaded grilled calamari skewers, roasted potatoes, and mesclun salad. Rather than spread out on a plate, this appetizer was presented vertically, the skewers bearing the calamari speared into the potatoes and surrounded by the greens. The calamari was perfectly cooked, with a bite, but not rubbery and the bread crumbs added just the right amount of texture.
A pasta special was a homemade tagliolini in a butter sauce topped with shaved black truffles. The highly-prized fungi were first shown to us in a wooden box when our waiter recited additions to the evening’s menu. We opted to share a half order as a second course.
The presentation, once again, did not disappoint. Our waiter, along with a second server, proceeded to shave the a generous portion of the truffles over the pasta with great ceremony.
The dish was simple perfection. The pasta perfectly cooked, the sauce so buttery it was creamy, and the truffles adding texture and the woodsy flavor that elevated the dish to gastronomic heaven. This dish is one of our favorites, one we frequently order in restaurants both in New York and D.C. Al Tiramisu’s did not disappoint.
Al Tiramisu offers a daily selection of grilled whole fish and meat. We opted for two different fish – orate and pompano – each served with roasted potatoes and a medley of sautéed vegetables. Both whole fish were expertly filleted, not a bone to be found. Visually, the plate was appealing and the various components complimented without overwhelming the fish.
For dessert, we shared a selection of cheeses. Of course, tiramisu is on the menu, but having given up sweets for lent, trying the restaurant’s signature dish will have to wait for our next visit, which we anticipate will be very soon.
Here’s what I learned this week. Please help me try to understand it.
A giant of a jurist died, and before the ink was dry on the death certificate voices were raised to say what should happen as the result of his death.
What I learned in these tragic moments reflects rather unflatteringly on our love for the document that is the foundation stone of our precious democracy. (And in saying that I recall Winston Churchill’s magnificent insight: “Democracy is the worst form of government except for all the others.”) Those reminders sent me back to take a reverent look at the documents that have guided the growth of our country from brave idea to struggling realization of a dream: the Constitution, the Bill of Rights and at the very outset, the Declaration of Independence. What were the words? I had always thought that the Preamble to the Constitution that emerged from a grueling period of discussion and compromise; daring and disappointment had announced itself as being the expression of “We the People.” But now I was forced to wonder if I had misread the 18th Century penmanship. Did I remember it wrongly? Did it in fact begin with the words, “Me the People”?
So I checked. And came away reassured and somewhat saddened. The message was in fact from “We the People.” And with a certain gallows sense of humor the thought occurred to me that when the inevitable speculation about conspiracy in relation to the death of the honest originalist Antonin Scalia was raised (perhaps in a 140 character tweet) it would be easy enough to counter. It would only require suggesting that a premonition of what would occur in the aftermath of his death would alone have been enough to stop the heart of any dedicated originalist.
He believed that the founders had said what they said and meant what they said, quite literally.
Now admittedly “We the People” is a challenging and risky statement. It means that the individual members of our wildly diverse population must have enough trust in each other and their destiny as a nation to search for answers to their common challenges that combine or at least respect the diverse opinions of this marvelous mosaic of a democracy.
“We the People” when asked will have to search their souls to answer the question of how problems are to be solved. They will have to face up to the admittedly chilling and risky statement and humbly admit that they have to stretch their humanity, put aside any arrogant plan to substitute a personal agenda designed to thwart or block the will of the majority expressed at the ballot box. It means that a wildly diverse population must find within itself enough trust to discover a way to respond to common challenges. It means they will be expected to combine or at least show respect for the diverse opinions of all granted the status implied by the term, “We the People.”
When asked, they will have to search for ways to respect the implications of that lofty phrase. They will never be able to take solace in a claim that one group or individual is empowered to block the constitutionally granted rights of the others.
“We the People” is a proposition that is inconveniently risky, untidy; having the power to deliver at once both justice and discomfort.
“Me the People,” on the other hand, will simply be able to say,” I’ll come up with the perfect, amazing solutions, all without providing any detail on how those miracle will be effected.” The message is “I know how it’s meant to be done. Trust me, when the occasion arises you will see that I am right.”
The Constitution’s Preamble, it seems, is an equal opportunity challenger to potential demagogues and all the individual John and Jane Does who are called upon to resist the temptation to read it as “Me the People.” But whoever said that achieving grand ideas could be easy?
“We the People” will never be able to take solace in such tidy solutions. They will be forced to look into the deepest parts of their sprits to come up with that balance of respect and realism required to honor opinions that do not totally agree their own and to employ whatever powers of persuasion they may have to show their vision of the solutions as clearly and compellingly as possible.
If I am very blessed I will be able to look back on this week as a time when I summoned up the courage to take a stand on the side of “We the People.” For that I will need your help, each and all. And all I can offer in return is that you can count on mine in return.
Annette Cunningham’s Street Seens appears every Sunday.
Al Tiramisu is long and narrow with a small bar near the entrance and a fireplace in the rear. While our table in an alcove near the bar didn’t provide a view of the fire, the wait staff’s friendliness and attention created a warm and welcoming ambiance. Service was efficient without making us feel rushed.
We had plenty of time to peruse the menu and discuss the specials with our waiter. We enjoyed our cocktails along with a bread basket with focaccia that was served with a small ramekin of caponata.
We began with spedinii calamari sul let di lattughine, breaded grilled calamari skewers, roasted potatoes, and mesclun salad. Rather than spread out on a plate, this appetizer was presented vertically, the skewers bearing the calamari speared into the potatoes and surrounded by the greens. The calamari was perfectly cooked, with a bite, but not rubbery and the bread crumbs added just the right amount of texture.
A pasta special was a homemade tagliolini in a butter sauce topped with shaved black truffles. The highly-prized fungi were first shown to us in a wooden box when our waiter recited additions to the evening’s menu. We opted to share a half order as a second course.
The presentation, once again, did not disappoint. Our waiter, along with a second server, proceeded to shave the a generous portion of the truffles over the pasta with great ceremony.
The dish was simple perfection. The pasta perfectly cooked, the sauce so buttery it was creamy, and the truffles adding texture and the woodsy flavor that elevated the dish to gastronomic heaven. This dish is one of our favorites, one we frequently order in restaurants both in New York and D.C. Al Tiramisu’s did not disappoint.
Al Tiramisu offers a daily selection of grilled whole fish and meat. We opted for two different fish – orate and pompano – each served with roasted potatoes and a medley of sautéed vegetables. Both whole fish were expertly filleted, not a bone to be found. Visually, the plate was appealing and the various components complimented without overwhelming the fish.
For dessert, we shared a selection of cheeses. Of course, tiramisu is on the menu, but having given up sweets for lent, trying the restaurant’s signature dish will have to wait for our next visit, which we anticipate will be very soon.