Today Denver, tomorrow the Twin Cities.
The provocateur who brought you "Piss Christ" pinches off a new concept.
The limoncello panna cotta ("limoncello cooked cream") is an extraordinarily smooth, dense dessert with an almost gelatinous consistency. Its tartness comes from the homemade limoncello, which is made by soaking lemon peel and sugar in vodka for a couple of weeks. A sweet raspberry sauce acts as a counterpoint to the tangy lemon flavor. Limoncello, an after-dinner digestivo, originated in the town of Sorrento and is one of the many uses of lemons popular with the chefs here. The poached pears are yet another example of overindulgence. Most chefs would be content to serve pears simply poached in a sweet wine sauce. Not so at Sorrento. Here they scoop out the center of each side of the pear and fill it with crème brûlée. Chocolate is added to the already rich wine sauce for further decadence. It was like getting two desserts for the price of one. A couple of shots of limoncello to settle the stomach and two well-made espressos were the perfect end to a memorable meal.
Our second visit proved no less unforgettable. I quickly settled on the five-course chef's choice dinner. The first course was the escargot risotto, which had hints of lemon and was particularly creamy. Its snails weren't the least bit chewy. This was followed by a Mediterranean salad -- a mixture of greens with olives and feta -- which suffered from a too-tart, lemony dressing (my only complaint). Then came the panzerotti, a large pillow of pasta stuffed with finely chopped, stewed filet mignon and covered with a rosemary-tomato sauce. As simple as this dish was, it was spectacular. My double lamb chops were balanced on a round bed of herbed pureed potatoes, encircled by a slice of leek. Tiny French beans had been tied together to resemble a small package. The chops, stuffed with goat cheese and herbs, were sumptuous.
Sorrento shines when it comes to presentation. It's evident that each plate is meticulously prepared. My dining companion started out with a salmon tartare, which consisted of finely chopped salmon on a bed of arugula and capers, topped off with fennel and carrot shavings. The sharp, lemon-based dressing almost detracted from the dish; however, the sweet carrots somewhat balanced it out. And her filet mignon arrived with a lobster tail perched on top and some gnocchi bathed in a creamy Gorgonzola sauce with arugula.
The last part of the five-course meal was the dessert sampling platter, which we shared. It came with a poached pear, a delightfully light tiramisu and two decadent chocolate cannelloni, which had a soft, crêpelike shell made from a coffee reduction and a chocolate mousse filling dotted with walnuts. To say that we left stuffed is an understatement, yet there were still other things on the menu I wish I'd tried.
In 1902, Giambattista De Curtis wrote the song "Torna a Surriento" ("Come Back to Sorrento"), which was to become one of the most famous Neapolitan songs ever written. It was written for President Giuseppe Zanardelli, who came to Sorrento on an official visit. "Do you have the courage not to return?" was one of the last lines of this song. There's no need to remind patrons to return to Sorrento the restaurant, since the ambience and the food are hard to forget.