by Louis Hessey-Antell. Find Louis on Instagram here.
**Please note: San Carlo Bristol invited Breaks and Bites in, and paid for our food and drink. This in no way impacted our opinion. We were not obliged to write a positive review, and San Carlo Bristol didn’t see this review before publication.**
Locally famous for its dustbin lid-sized pizzas, the ever-present fruits de mer hovering on entry, and star-studded walls, I was a little unsure what to expect from Chef Marcello’s current/new restaurant menu at San Carlo Bristol. One thing for sure was that we were all in for quite the evening. By ‘we’, I mean myself; my +1 James; Rafaellah and Felipeh, formerly of HoHey Marketing; Kaya from Love for Bristol; and various other West Country food enthusiasts, many of whom also have ‘Bristol’ in their handles.
After our welcome Prosecco, James and I perched down at the very end of an extremely elongated table. The aforementioned Brazilian couple sat to my right guaranteed some wonderful conversation, and it was soon clear that the theme this evening was to be lashings of generosity, with extra truffle sprinkled on top. Sparkling white wines go best with salty things, I find, and one could do a lot worse than some freshly-baked focaccia and a couple of slices of a pizzetta covered liberally in ‘nduja. A good start, to quote the Spartans, I think to myself.
I’ll get one of the minuscule negatives out of the way early, because here at San Carlo Bristol, they really were few and far between. The Polenta Fritta & Crab was crabby enough, but, alas, the polenta/flour ratios were a little on the pale side; it needed more corn flavour in truth. That’s about it for the nays, so let’s get to work on the yays. We’re at the tail of the season, when fresh tomatoes are only just safe enough to handle without crushing them, which is fortunate because this is when they are at their most intense. A piquant dressing is all it takes to bring these Heritage specimens together, along with some crunchy green pepper and a light seasoning. Paired with these is the Chardonnay Landghe from Piemonte; not too crisp, and served at room temperature, this was the first of this meal’s ‘famous five’ wines.
Meatier, but no more substantial necessarily, were the other two Antipasti dishes: Carpaccio di Manzo and Fichi e Culatello, respectively. Slices of cold raw beef (fillet, I presume) melt between the teeth with minimal chomping, set off by ceps, rocket and plenty of white truffle. Equally special was the latter plate: a curious piece of charcuterie from Bassa Verdiana, served with figs and a few more loose rocket leaves to highlight the innate sweetness and pepperiness of the pork. I would recommend searching this stuff out in your own time, as it seems this might be a bit of a one-off, rather exclusive treat for us so-called ‘influencers’. Assuming everyone at the table, save for a couple of designated drivers, was as keen on fine wine as I, I think it’s safe to say the Vermentino di Gallura (from Sardinia) worked as well for them as it did for me; robust enough to take on both meats without stripping our palates with tannin.
The next two wines were due to arrive with the penultimate course, so we made the previous ones last, alongside a couple of Birra Morettis, as further indulgence was provided with the third courses: the ‘Prima’ section. Belts loosening, we dive into some Mafaldine con Ragu di Manzo. Rustic pieces of short, slightly chewy pasta, woven through deeply marinated ox-tail, this took me back to the real thing, I believe, when I was a little heavier and ambling down the back streets of Sardinia years back. Alongside this was a vegetarian option: Cartellate Zucca e Tartufo; a genius creation of sizeable, silky pasta parcels filled with buttery pumpkin and pecorino. The word ‘moreish’ doesn’t do these delights justice, I assure you, and not just because the white truffle simply keeps on comin’! Finally, mercifully perhaps, but no less pleasantly, we taste the final pasta course. Theatrically presented, crowned with a spider crab carapace, the Tagliolini Grachio is possibly the richest thing so far. Brown crab meat, seasoned with a little saffron, tossed through velvety noodles of deliciousness, this is a straightforward take on a warming Trattoria-style dish that deserves to be on many a menu as Winter approaches.
Out come two more reds from the vineyards of Sardinia, along with the final savoury courses of the evening. Hefty chunks of braised ox cheek with spinach, gremolata, and other garnishes are the only non-Italian title on the menu; simply Beef Cheek & Spinach due to a minor error in the copywriting department. This melts away as expected, with plenty of secret nutrition provided by the non-fauna elements surrounding it. The Branzino al Cartoccio is a welcome, slightly lighter plate of food; seabass, cooked ‘en papillote’, with oodles of Mediterranean vegetables that sing the national flag’s colours as they escape the steam of their former home. We have been well fed indeed, but it’s not quite over yet.
The sight of a bespoke wafer plunged into Mantecato alla Nocciola, hazelnut ice cream, with chocolate sauce, certainly appealed to my inner child. I suppose the concept is a simple one: Ferrero Rocher-style ice cream, with the real thing (wrapper included) popped on top to reinforce the point. It works, but how could it ever have not? I don’t get to taste the Pistachio Cake, so I won’t comment apart from on its appearance; naturally green and squared up nicely, I can’t say it looked dry or unappetising; I had simply run out of appetite at this point.
The other surprise worth mentioning is the dessert wine. I believe the term ‘noble-rot’ has some relevance to why this genre of libations is usually only served with sweets, or at a push, cheese; they possess a curiously bitter-sweet character sometimes that walks a fine line. The Moscato d’Asti is, to use a bit of a cliché, a revelation. Beautiful as the coda to an Autumn feast in freezing Bristol, or perhaps under a Tuscan sky with a few ice cubes thrown in for a little dilution, I was intent on finding a little more about this stuff. So, I stuck around to pick Marcello’s brain a little as he soaked up a job well done, with his own beverage finally in hand.
Chef and I had a ten-minute chin-wag as the crowd dispersed and the man educated me on why San Carlo Bristol is still standing, the difference between Trattoria food and fine dining, why dry pasta is sometimes superior to fresh, the struggle to find good gelato in Britain, and plenty of other things. He gifts me a bottle of the Moscato from the bar, and we shake hands and offer up our goodbyes. I hope all the other guests tonight had as good a night as we did; it’ll take a while to forget this one I feel….
…particularly whenever I treat myself to a snifter of Moscato.
San Carlo comes highly recommended by myself.
9/10
Louis Hessey-Antell.