Ciao Ristorante

North Smithfield turns cosmopolitan with a classy new restaurant

by Dawn Keable

900 Victory Highway, North Smithfield, 767-5614
Sun-Thurs. 4-9 p.m., Fri and Sat, 4-10 p.m.
Sidewalk access

It seemed like a strange topic for an informal engagement party, even though the party was for me and my now fiancé, Andre. But the subject of discussion between my friends, Jenn and Michael, was one of collective amazement. They were marveling about how Ciao, a new restaurant in North Smithfield, could be so far removed from the Slatersville Plaza and still be a tenant in it. (For some point of reference, the anchor stores include Western Auto and a local market called Eddie's, which I remember visiting with my grandmother.)

Curious to see what all the hype among the locals was about, Andre, my brilliant new diamond ring, and I decided to stop in for a visit. And, in a strange twist (at least I thought so, Andre was unimpressed), we were greeted at the door by one of the identical Wood twins, a fellow Burrillville High alum.

Mr. Wood promptly introduced us to the buffet. At $7.95, the expansive, all-you-can-eat display seemed like the Sunday night house favorite, with selections like salad, lasagna, pizza, chicken, and a dessert tray. There was also a vast pasta bar, complete with a personal chef to satisfy individual cravings.

But despite the wide selection, Andre and I decided to go the conventional route and were seated at a cozy nook to peruse the menu. It was almost like our own private dining room, as the enclave had enough room for only two booths and the other was unoccupied. Surrounded by peach-colored half walls, we couldn't even see the other diners and felt blissfully removed from the strip mall outside.

From the vast list of traditional Italian offerings, we chose "Melanzana Rollantini" ($4.95) as our appetizer. The innovative rollups consisted of slices of eggplant wrapped with prosciutto ham and mozzarella cheese, all covered with a sweet red sauce. So delectable were the offerings, we polished them off almost before our waitress was out of sight.

After this, the cheese extravaganza continued with my main course -- a custom-designed medium "Pizza Caesare" ($7.25). For 50 cents per topping, I fashioned mine with pesto sauce, spinach, and mozzarella cheese, a combination that proved to be an excellent addition to the warm and chewy crust. Also, with six slices, I had enough to fill myself, have lunch the next day, and soothe Andre with a tasty treat. (He was having a rough time on the other side of the table.)

Andre's first minor disappointment came with the arrival of his meal-accompanying salad, which more accurately could be described as a bowl of crisp lettuce. Unimpressed by the lack of ingredients, he glumly foraged out an onion ring, a quarter of a green pepper wedge, and two small pieces of shredded carrots in an attempt to satisfy his overactive taste buds.

Fortunately, Andre's entrée, "Misto Frutti de Mare" ($11.95), boosted his spirits. The dish was a celebration of seafood -- scallops, clams, tender shrimp, and fresh littlenecks. At the foundation was an abundance of linguine tossed in a white clam sauce.

Still, Andre said the selection wasn't quite as zesty as he would have liked, which was a funny thing considering that I witnessed him polishing off the leftovers the next day, quiet as a mouse.

For dessert, I picked tiramisu ($3.50) and would have been satisfied with the fragrant scent of the cocoa-sprinkled top alone. Well, until I actually tasted the rest, that is. The alternating layers of ladyfingers and Mascapone cheese were airy and delicately light. It was gone much too soon.

Andre fell victim to the "Chocolate Suicide Cake" ($3.50), a moist double-layered confection with chopped walnuts on the side and a thick fudge and chocolate wedge on top. Served with ice cream, the dessert was sinfully rich.

Maybe this is the start of the great cosmopolitanization of Slatersville Plaza. Hmmm, maybe a cappuccino bar next to the penny candy display in the five-and-ten store isn't that far out of reach after all.