Saturday,
09/01/07
Italian Renaissance
Valentino’s Ristorante rises again under its
new Neapolitan chef
By Kay West • Photos
by Matthew H. Starling
 Even
before assuming the title of executive chef of Valentino’s
Ristorante in August 2006, Paolo Tramontano began
chipping away at a menu that had rigidly stood its
ground for 15 years. But it took another year for
him to convince Kevin Beitter—who, with Ron
Kemp, bought out the remaining Valentino partners
in 1999—that the chicken parmesan needed to
go sleep with the fishes. Beitter’s first trip
to Italy this spring, during which he and his family
ate their way through the country, helped support
Tramontano’s argument: nowhere did the Beitters
find a single menu that listed pollo alla parmigiano.
“He’d been bugging
me about it for a long time, but it was something
our customers liked, it had always been on the menu,” says
Beitter, sitting at table and enjoying a glass of
white wine after a busy night on the floor. “When
I got back from Italy, I said ‘OK, do it, get
rid of the chicken parm!’”
Tramontano, who’s had an equally busy but a
far hotter night in the kitchen, is drinking red.
He lifts his glass to Beitter, and smiles slightly.
Their choices in wine reflect their different personalities.
Beitter, who grew up in Texas, is in his mid-forties,
polished and poised, with a genuine amiability. Tramontano,
who turned 32 in July, is from Naples, and approaches
everything in his life, from his 4-year-old son to
his food, with a fierce and robust passion. Together,
this unlikely partnership—which benefits greatly
from the long-term relationships built by gracious
Nashville native Kemp—are determined to win
the hearts and palates of diners seeking a true taste
of Italy.
Beitter met the late Tom Allen while working in Texas
for Sfuzzi, a chain of contemporary Italian eateries.
Allen brought him to Nashville in 1994 to run Valentino’s,
then a part of the Z1 Group restaurants. When Allen
passed away and new owners took over, Beitter was
persuaded to stay. He inherited a kitchen that had
been under the same toque since the restaurant opened
in 1991. Chef Sime Glavin, who was actually Croatian,
leaned Italian-American; on one menu from the mid-’90s
lasagna was described as “pasta stuffed with
meat and ricotta cheese.”
 By
comparison, Tramontano’s lasagne tradizionale
is “homemade pasta, layered with Bolognese
sauce, parmesan cheese and béchamel sauce.” Even
with that upgrade, it’s not the chef’s
favorite dish, though. “It is good—if
you like lasagna,” he says with a nearly audible
roll of his eyes.
When he was just 14, Tramontano enrolled in culinary
school and worked in restaurants on weekends and
during the summer holiday. Unlike Beitter—who
grew up working in restaurants—Tramontano was
not born into that culture, but once he got a taste, “it
was like a drug. You like the feeling, the energy,
the action of a kitchen. A few times I tried to leave
it, but I couldn’t. You have to feel it, you
have to have a passion for the kitchen, because it
is very hard work.”
After working in several regions of Italy and for
a time in Barcelona, he came to New York when he
was 26, ultimately landing for two years at the café in
MOMA, the Museum of Modern Art, until the museum
closed for renovation. He and his wife went to Miami,
then New York, then Italy before settling in Nashville—her
home—a few years ago. “It was very hard
to find a chef’s job, there are not many Italian
restaurants here,” he remembers. “I went
to Mario [Ferrari], and he didn’t need anyone.
He sent me to meet Peter [Marti, Valentino’s
unfailingly impeccable maitre’d] and Kevin.
They had nothing open in the kitchen, but told me
I could work as a server. That was very hard. I missed
cooking so much. I did it for two years, but I had
to move on when there was a chef opening at Antonio’s.”
In February 2006, Tramontano was persuaded to come
back, this time in the kitchen, with the understanding
that Chef Sime was cutting back on his hours, and
would soon be retiring. During the transition, Chef
Paolo began by sending out specials that, by word
of satisfied mouth and one glowing review in the
Tennessean, caught the attention of Italian foodies
in Nashville, drawn to their simple authenticity,
and authentic simplicity. “When we were in
Italy,” says Beitter, “we found that
though cooking styles and ingredients varied from
region to region, what was consistent was simplicity,
freshness and quality ingredients.”
 In
August 2006, Glavin packed up his knives, and Tramontano
was officially in charge. He found his sous chef
in the dining room—fellow Neapolitan Massimo
Esposito had been working as a server at Valentino’s
since closing his eponymous restaurant in Smyrna.
The two (who discovered they’d grown up within
15 minutes of one another) immediately hit it off,
and have not only infused a tired and virtually moribund
kitchen with verve, creativity and confidence, they’ve
raised the culinary bar to heights never before aspired
to by this restaurant, and declared themselves the
upscale answer to the question posed more than any
other to Nashville food writers: “Where can
I get good Italian?”
A party of four can begin by sharing the Antipasto
Valentino, a platter of Italian specialties one might
nibble on at a table in a typical restaurant or home
in Italy: nearly translucent ribbons of imported
prosciutto wound around light-as-air breadsticks,
thicker slices of speck (bacon) wrapped chunks of
provolone, crispy croquettes fashioned of creamy
mashed potatoes and of rice flavored with red sauce,
caponata (a chunky relish of eggplant, onion, tomatoes,
olives and anchovies) and roasted marinated peppers.
A bowl of gnocchi—dreamy pillows of potato
dumpling luxuriating in a creamy sauce with petit
green peas, sautéed mushrooms and seared prosciutto—is
most comfortably shared by two. A fat link of Italian
sausage is split, grilled until the natural juices
seep from the sweetly seasoned ground pork, then
topped with fresh mozzarella. Lighter alternatives
are offered by the blood-red hand-pounded carpaccio
di manzo on spring greens with parmesan curls, or
fritto di calamari e zucchini—rings of squid
and matchsticks of zucchini coated with finely crushed
breadstick crumbs, flash-fried to golden perfection
and heaped upon a plate, best appreciated with a
firm squeeze of halved lemon.
Valentino’s is the only restaurant in Nashville
that still offers a Caesar elaborately prepared tableside,
and such a rare opportunity should not be missed,
particularly when veteran server Andrei Lucaci performs
the ritual with such seasoned flourish.
 Every
region of Italy is represented on the extensive—nearly
exhaustive—repertoire of pastas and chicken,
veal, meat and fish entrees. Lombardy’s heavenly
risotto, Apulia’s delightful orecchiette (“little
ears”), Tuscany’s inclination to fagioli,
Liguria and Campania’s appreciation of fresh
produce, and, of course, Emilia-Romagna’s passion
for pasta. The menu is a marketing tool for the country’s
most well-known products and flavors: olives, anchovies,
garlic, eggplant, artichokes, white and black truffles,
oils, vinegars, glorious cheeses and cured meats,
aromatic and flavorful herbs like basil, rosemary
and sage and, of course, the ubiquitous pear-shaped
tomato.
Minimalists will appreciate studies in simplicity
like pesce spada alla Livornese (swordfish pan-seared
in olive oil, then baked with olives, capers and
tomatoes); agnello griglia (baby lamb chops, grilled
and finished with olive oil and fresh herbs); while
classicists won’t be able to resist vitello
picatta or saltimbocca. Pondering the 30-plus items
available as entrees can provoke choice paralysis,
and since the restaurant seems resistant to down-sizing
(something I urge them to reconsider), diners can
narrow the possibilities themselves to one of the
daily specials which will showcase what came into
the kitchen that morning, or “ask Paolo.” If
you’re very fortunate, he may come to the table
to inquire of your experience with some of his self-bottled
citrus-sweet limoncello, made from a 150-year-old
recipe handed down from his grandfather. Approach
with caution—it’s delicious but deadly,
an Italian improvement on moonshine. The selection
of Italian reds and whites is supplemented with familiar
vintages from California. Service is skilled and
light-handed, friendly but not overly familiar.
Wining and dining Valentino’s-style
takes place in one of three rooms, each with its
own unique ambiance. At street level is the formal
dining room conservatively painted in white and ocher;
up a short flight of stairs is the small bar, and
a warmer room of brick walls brightened with large
and vibrantly illustrated vintage Italian advertising
posters. Black linen on the tables mirror the tall
black chairs, small sprays of flowers pick up the
bright colors of the posters and Italian music pleases
the ear without intruding on the conversation. Cooler
by several degrees in temperature but as cozy and
intimate as a secret is the grotto-like cellar, also
walled in brick and the original massive foundation
stones, polished cobblestone floor and a corner fireplace.
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Valentino's Ristorante
1907 West End Avenue
Nashville, TN 37203
Phone: (615) 327-0148
Fax: (615) 327-9482
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Valentino’s address spans
more than 100 years, residing in one of the few remaining
late-19th century town homes that once lined West
End Avenue, an enduring vestige of old Nashville.
With a renewed commitment from the owners and a youthful
and energetic presence in the kitchen, it seems assured
of claiming a place in the new Nashville.
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