La Casuccia

The reason might be that, unlike so many American-born chefs, who throw red sauce and white cheese on whatever's at hand and call it mama's Old World recipe, Cordero can't claim the cuisine as his birthright. He had to learn his craft painstakingly, in the kitchens of such notable Italian restaurants as the former Orsini's in Manhattan and Casa Rustica in Smithtown.

At La Casuccia (Italian for "country house"), chef "Ivano" shows attention to detail at the outset. Freshly baked focaccia rolls, small as biscuits, arrive with a saucer of excellent Sicilian olives in a hot pepper-spiked oil. While waiting for appetizers, we were presented with a bowl of what looked like potato sticks. "Taste," our waitress said. They turned out to be ethereally light slivers of fried zucchini that shattered when bitten. On a cold night, when we dined near the fireplace, Cordero's version of minestrone -- lots of fresh vegetables in an intensely savory chicken stock -- was ideal. At lunch, another day, ribollita, a robust Tuscan vegetable soup, proved equally warming.

I was hesitant to order the hot antipasto special our ebullient Spanish-accented waitress recommended. It sounded so like the sauce-blanketed same-old-same-old: stuffed mushrooms, baked clams, grilled shrimp and so forth. What came, however, was an assortment of well-prepared specialties, each with its own identity. Fried calamari was piping hot, lightly crisp outside, tender within, a lively marinara on the side. Baked clams had a lovely marine flavor and little bread. Stuffed mushrooms were a bit dense, but grilled vegetables were bright, firm and smoky. Most evocative of Italy were grilled whole shrimp, heads and all, similar to what I'd had on the Amalfi coast. I could understand why creamy clean-tasting pieces of mozzarella were included on the plate but didn't appreciate the intrusion of incongruously pale, flavorless tomato slices.

Cordero redeemed himself, however, with a dinner special of thinly pounded pork chops, breaded, fried and topped with truffle oil, capers, lemon and olives. Pollo alla Casuccia -- boneless chicken rolled around prosciutto, asparagus and mozzarella -- came off as moist and flavorful. So, too, did pollo scarpariello done with lemon, garlic and white wine.

At lunch, a thick piece of grilled salmon was topped with a mellifluous Calabrese sauce of tomatoes, capers, dried cherries and black olives. Linguine alle vongole materialized as al dente strands of pasta in a garlic and oil sauce rife with fresh clams. However, fusille primavera, which was supposed to have, in addition to julienne vegetables, both pine nuts and capers, included neither. I could find no fault, however, with penne scarola, pasta quills with white beans and escarole, a robust country dish.

House-made Italian cheesecake made for a rich, moist finale. So, too, did a special our waitress described as a chocolate muffin (actually an individual bittersweet chocolate cake) topped with ice cream and served with espresso sauce, presented in a tiny cup.

Was the dessert classically Italian? Only in that it had been conceived with care and forethought.

Reviewed by Joan Reminick, 3/16/07.