Tiramisu

The DelBello family is, quite literally, from the old country, namely the Jewish ghetto of Rome. There's big, jolly papa Shawn, with his deadpan humor and romantic accent, whose cuisine makes people groan and roll their eyes with joy. Sweet little Ana, wife of Shawn, takes care of the customers, two cute and very American kids and a huge brindle mastiff named Trump, all with quiet, smiling serentity.

The DelBellos are my neighbors as well as my favorite restauranteurs. They live upstairs from their attractive, relaxing restaurant. When the pandemic made it impossible to dine inside, they turned their gazebo/back porch into al fresco dining. It is decorated with small classical statues in various states of disrepair just like Roman ruins, and lots of flowers. The family garden is full of herbs.

In Berwyn, PA, a small town that boasts three -count 'em, three - Italian restaurants in a two block radius, Tiramisu's claim to fame is their Roman-Jewish menu. What exactly is that, you ask?

That means artichokes cooked simply in olive oil; they literally melt in one's mouth in a way that will make you disbelieve what you are devouring could possibly be a healthy vegetable. It means more seafood entrees on the menu than veal, although the veal is given loving and ample attention if that’s what you’re into (I’m never had veal in my life and am not about to start, but they all sound so delicious they tempt even me). It means the antipasto is served with garbanzo beans and smoked salmon instead of spicy, fatty pork. It means homemade matza as well as homemade pasta, and excellent hand-selected wines from a vineyard back home who are friends of the family. (Seriously, try the montepulciano.) It means an order of risotto big enough to feed a family of three that is so creamy and flavorful you will do your best to eat it all in one sitting. It means homemade tiramisu and Italian cheesecake (think dulce de leche but sweeter and creamier) with your cappuccino for dessert, and it means Shawn gets up about 3am each day to do what he loves.

There isn't a dish on the menu I don't adore, from the simple but unforgettable pappardelle noodles in ricotta sauce to an elegant New York Strip with truffle cream sauce or the Barolo rack of lamb. Everything is decadent, the ingredients of opulently high quality, cooked, seasoned and plated to perfection. Most of it is classic Italian cuisine with an occasional deeper Mediterranean twist, but their true signature dish, the one that exemplifies Tiramisu best, is the "matzagna," a delicately seasoned white lasagna made with bechamel sauce and matza, unleavened Jewish bread. When Shawn bakes it, it is perfectly herbed. It is a glorious comfort food, creamy, filling and satisfying, and yet robust enough to pair with a light red wine. Ask Shawn, he knows.

We never call it "Tiramisu." At home, my boyfriend and I just call it "Shawn's place." We've had too many meals there that were so good it made us both glad to be alive, too much laughter with Shawn and Anna when they took a break to sit down and chat with us while we ate, not to feel so much at home there as to make it our own. As Shawn told me once, 'You know why you like my restaurant? Because you know from food.' Praise from the master; if he thinks I can spot a good restaurant then I must be qualified to recommend one, and I do.

Love and blessings to my friends the DelBellos. Go visit them if you can.