excess , Al Forno ’ s pizza ($ 21.95 ) remains a study in almost inconceivable restraint . The dough is stretched so thin that it becomes something close to a cracker , barely covered with pomodoro , the barest sprinkle of cheese and a veritable salad of scallions . The dish is simple , but if it were simple to make , we ’ d see more of it outside these walls .
Part of the experience of eating at Al Forno is to travel back to the point of origin ; it remains one of the only restaurants to make desserts to order . But it also serves as a bridge between residents and the rest of the culinary world . There are plenty of Italian kitchens in the state , but none that have processed Italy through a prism that ’ s part art school and part Hephaestus . Al Forno ’ s menu remains forged by heat : Whether the dish is wrapped in a molten cauldron of cheese ( like the baked pasta ) or charred into the very essence of fire ( see the grilled chicken ), this is a house that manages to use nearly primitive cooking elements to produce food that embodies a sweeping and nuanced gastronomic culture .
Though there are protein-driven entrees — the famous dirty rib-eye steak ($ 45.95 ), short ribs , clams and spicy sausage — it ’ s the full-tilt commitment to starch that defines Al Forno ’ s homage to humble food . Of course , the irregular and crackling Frisbees of grilled pizza dominate first courses . But every so often , you ’ ll see a duo of singed crostini ($ 15.95 ) come out draped in fresh mozzarella and roasted peppers , served with massive steak knives .
Even more fundamental to the menu is the beets and frites , the quintessential study in synthesizing rustic fare and delicate presentation . Roasted beets are shaved into slices and served with a towering haystack of fries , glued together with a thin layer of lemony mayonnaise . Even an order of meatballs , served in a cast-iron pot of simmering sauce , looks convincingly like a full dinner .
Pasta , however , is the soul of the kitchen , mostly made in house and paired with everything from Bolognese to stewed beef to roasted clams . Oh , and cheese . The most enduring dish is a five-cheese baked pasta ($ 21.95 ) that manages to get all of Italy — its comfort , its creativity , its ambition — into a single burning bite .
It ’ s not a complicated equation and it ’ s endured for decades ; even though they now take reservations , diners still queue up when the doors open at 5 p . m . It ’ s the food , yes . But it ’ s as much about a design that understood , nearly half a century ago , that Providence is about rebuilding the past into a better and more intriguing present . Germon passed away in 2015 and yet his presence — and Killeen ’ s — is everywhere in the ageless space and its densely poetic spirit .
The allure is certainly manifest in the restaurant ’ s dessert course which , like the aesthetic , is a study in mixed media . The signature dish is a crostata ($ 20.95 ) made with so much butter that it elevates the cow , once again , to sacred animal status . Always paired with a tart seasonal fruit ( apple , quince , plum , cranberry ) and a lush anglaise , it captures what ’ s at the core of Al Forno : bucolic finesse . Every dessert has an element of opposition — even the chocolate bread pudding ($ 14.95 ), half crunchy , half soft , duels with a whipped cream so thick and cold that it could stand alone .
And yet , nothing considers itself too precious , and if diners take themselves too seriously , dishes declare the tenor of the room by showing up in rustic form , bubbling over crocks and spilling onto plates . There may be something perpetually stylized in this South Water Street industrial building , but Al Forno ’ s legacy will always be built on the belief that dinner is an exercise in feeding the soul . 🆁
90 RHODE ISLAND MONTHLY l MARCH 2023