Casa Christine

The beauty of the unexpected

by Bill Rodriguez

(401) 453-6255, 145 Spruce St., Providence
Open Tues-Fri, 11:30 a.m.-2 p.m., 5-7:30 p.m.; Sat, 4-7:30 p.m.
No credit cards
Handicapped access

There has always been a tradition of Italian-American cooking emerging from kitchens into restaurants. Unlike, say, the genesis of many French restaurants, where they like to leave the impression that the cuisine sprang full-blown from the head of Escoffier, if not Zeus. Federal Hill's Casa Christine epitomizes the former style, so it's good to see Chris herself greeting guests in a fancy hostess gown, rather than wiping her hands with a dishtowel, as back in the old days. This place's success is an innocent Horatio Alger story, in a day when PR and attention to menu trends is the wily way to go.

Years ago, when I first enjoyed the simple, delicious preparations of her husband, Bill Calise, and son, Bill Jr., they were serving only breakfast and lunch in a little Atwells Avenue diner called Christine's Fritatta House. Breakfasts, the most time-consuming, labor-intensive, under-priced restaurant work there is. The few lunches I had there were exquisite: uncomplicated dishes that relied on fresh, rather than exotic, ingredients to impress. "It's like Babette's Feast," declared my foodie friend Stuart, who introduced me to the place. "It's the closest thing I've come to edible opera." The deal-closer after my first meal there 10 years ago was learning later that Bill had finished the inexpensive crème caramel with $50 Strega instead of some ordinary Sambuca or Anisette. I had a new culinary hero. Soon afterward, when the Calises lost their lease and shuttered up seemingly overnight, I was in mourning.

But the food gods smiled down and winked. Mere months later the Calises reopened nearby, closer to the profitable end of the hill. No breakfasts, just lunch and dinner. Christine traded in her sauce-stained apron for hostess duds, and instead of Formica and stainless steel, the decor went fecundly floral and Vegas chic. Plaster statuary and a two-wall painted mural of innocent Bacchanalia, with robed cavorters romping and clinking goblets. The Calises's style of doing it their way has persisted, with Casa Christine still not accepting credit cards or bothering with a liquor license when a $3 corkage fee will do. (A package store is only a block away.)

A recent visit brought that all back, with little change evident over the years. Chris is still the amiable hostess. Joseph, the waiter-in-chief, is a little grayer but just as droll and helpful. Appetizers and 20 or so entrées are still on marker boards instead of printouts. The starters are the Usual Suspects, from fried calamari to sopresata dried sausage with cheese. We chose the simplest among them. I reprised the first forkful I had at the old diner, the delicious peasant dish of beans over bread ($6.50). The beans were flavorful Great Northerns instead of the more commonly used cannellinis, making a thick broth with olive oil, red onions, and diced tomatoes, served for convenience over bread cubes rather than slices. Alongside that we had a plate of tomato slices and buffalo mozzarella, topped with fresh basil and drizzled with olive oil ($6.50). The cheese was fresh enough to taste like spring water.

Seafood appealed to Johnnie, so she considered the salmon filet with arugula, roasted peppers, and goat cheese, and the scrod topped with breadcrumbs. She asked if the latter could be prepared more interestingly, batter-fried a la francese with lemon. A nod came back from the kitchen, but my counterpart decided instead on the tuna steak ($15.95), happily, it turned out. The fish was succulent, complemented by lemon and olive oil, and topped by large caper berries. Johnnie's response was: "Ahhh . . ." With it came her choice of vinegared potato salad instead of mashed potatoes, and fresh string beans with stewed tomatoes and garlic.

Joseph said veal could substitute in the pasta dishes with chicken, with the exception of the carbonara. I did the reverse, though, and had chicken in a cream sauce ($15.95) that is normally offered with veal. The four filets were smothered in a buttery sauce that was lightly flavored with garlic, salted with anchovy, and loaded with lots of roasted red peppers. Quite good. Instead of vegetable and potato, which would have been more suitable, I wanted to sample the pasta side dish, which turned out to be penne in a plain but tasty red sauce.

Desserts are no longer served at Casa Christine, what with competition such as Scialo's Bakery and Pastiche short walks away. But that's good. A wonderful thing about the film Babette's Feast is its reminder that memorable food can be found in unexpected places. After a good meal at the sweetly garish Casa Christine, you can step back toward the eateries and markets of Federal Hill with new hope for gastronomic serendipity.