Zinfandel and Italian Homecoming

Last Monday evening, after a few hours of meandering about my town and consignment shopping, I continued my battle with jet lag and refusal to succumb to the seductive lure of an irregular sleep schedule by heading out to dinner with the filmmaker. Coincidentally, we met about a year ago to the day, so, there was cause for celebration, in addition to fending off Queen Mab. A local, quiet neighborhood true Italian brick oven restaurant, named the Brick Oven, not surprisingly, has become a favorite of mine since moving here a little over two years ago; the food is exceptionally well prepared, traditional, always hot, and always dependable. Plus, the policy is bring your own, and there is no corkage fee. I decided to bring this D Cubed Zinfandel I purchased over in Napa a few weeks ago, so I could savor the rich and smooth taste over a delicious meal, over which I did not have to labor.


I can rarely resist good calamari, lightly breaded and fried, and this place has the best; again, always almost burning to the touch, pulled right from a warm oven, when it is served. Perfection. The marinara sauce has some zest, without overpowering the subtle, sensuous flavor of the squid.



Almost always, when I come to the Brick Oven, I order a pasta dish, as they are house made and without exception, some of the best, heartiest, and most satisfying pastas I have ever tasted. For the sake of adventure, and my Zinfandel, I went with the chicken marsala. It was pleasant, and the sauce especially well seasoned, with large and luscious mushrooms, though, a bit bland for my taste; I abhor boneless and skinless chicken meat.


Goat cheese brick oven pizza slathered in red onions, olives, and mushrooms for my filmmaker; very delicious flavor combination, though, needless to say, makes for a potent taste during a kiss.