Bocconato an Italian outpost tucked into Fair Play wine region
The golden light, colorful leaves, overnight pumpkin patches and smell of fermenting grape juice all make October the best month for wine enthusiasts to tour the Sierra foothills.
If there's a drawback, it's the relative lack of destination restaurants for visitors who want to end a day of wine tasting with dinner and a glass of beer.
They've got beer at Bocconato Trattoria, though all of it is in bottle, none of it on draft.
And they ask if you'd like a glass. That reflects an old foothill custom, the drinking of beer straight from longneck bottles, especially at drafty roadhouses.
Bocconato Trattoria is keeping the tradition alive, though the restaurant is no drafty roadhouse. A pretty art-nouveau mirror hangs on a back wall. Fresh flowers and votive candles brighten tables. Dramatic floral arrangements and fabric hand towels greet patrons in the restrooms.
Giovanni Gaudio and his wife, Sheri Brown-Gaudio, opened Bocconato in April in quarters formerly occupied by Fair Play Bistro.
Overnight, France was out, Italy was in. For a restaurateur aiming to capitalize on the famished palates of food-conscious wine connoisseurs, Bocconato is perfectly placed. It's in the midst of the Fair Play/Somerset wine district, and just a short drive northeast of the Shenandoah Valley appellation.
The area is a culinary frontier, but Gaudio's colorful and independent background suggests he's cut out for the challenge of bringing fine dining to an area isolated, sparsely settled and vulnerable to tourism traffic jeopardized by a depressed economy.
Before he went into the restaurant business and before he practiced acupuncture in New Mexico, Gaudio lived in Alaska, sledding with dog teams, living off the land, building cabins.
"I loved to see how we can push ourselves by trying new things in life. That stimulates me," says Gaudio, a Sacramento native whose Italian ancestors included winemaker, butcher and baker.
In recent years, the Gaudios have been living in the El Dorado community of Mount Aukum, where they've been teaching food and wine classes, leading culinary tours to Italy and consulting for restaurants.
Bocconato is the first restaurant totally their own. He's generally in the kitchen, she manages the front. Together, they're using the restaurant to showcase a style of Italian cooking at once gutsy and refined.
Many of the dishes are dark and earthy, emerging from the traditions of such northern Italian regions as Piemonte, Tuscany and Liguria. They're autumnal in tone, muscular in content, but not without finesse.
While in the Alaskan wilds, Gaudio learned to butcher and to master game cookery, and several of his dishes reflect that gritty education. He bones a quail, stuffs it with a round of sausage as big as a softball and roasts the plump little package with a fig glaze that gives the meat a sweet flavor suggestive of maple syrup ($19). A single fried quail egg and a dice of pancetta complete a dish ideal for reviving an exhausted hunting party.
A special of grilled lamb seasoned simply with lemon juice, olive oil and salt was rich and adequately juicy, its sweet meaty flavor complemented by polenta heady with Gorgonzola ($25), while the dark and intense meat of the long-roasted short ribs, served in a bowl without any accompaniment or adornment, actually lived up to its menu billing – "they simply melt in your mouth" ($15).
Because the Gaudios intend to honor the Italian custom of cooking with local ingredients in season, they aren't likely to serve long two positively vivid dishes, the traditional Tuscan bread salad panzanella, made here with an abundance of gold and red cherry tomatoes dressed generously with a balsamic vinaigrette ($8), and a special lasagna with housemade pasta, smoked mozzarella and heirloom tomatoes, an unusually light and lively take on this classic dish ($14).
A salad that should be around through the fall, however, is the woodsy "funghi e noci," sliced mushrooms and walnuts sprinkled with truffle oil and walnut dressing, topped with thick cuts of Parmigiano-Reggiano ($9).