Providence on Your Palate
In the never-ending battle between the clam chowders, the frontline set: In one corner is Manhattan, who favors the red, tomato-based recipe. On the other side of the ring are the New Englanders, swearing by the white, cream-based variety. Think it's a regional spat? The rivalry got so bad that in 1939, the Massachusetts legislature declared it illegal to make clam chowder with tomatoes anywhere in the state.
So it is a credit to Rhode Island pulling a Switzerland on the whole brouhaha and coming up with its own take. In "Li'l Rhody," your clam chowder will be clear. Neutrality never tasted so delicious.
Food, Food, Glorious Food!
The Chowder Wars were explained to me at Cav, a particularly dazzling scintillation in Providence's culinary crown. Aptly set in the reinvigorated Jewelry District, the eatery is at once stately and eclectic - owner Sylvia Moubayed uses d�cor culled from her world travels to jazz up the ambience.
Of course, a delectably up-scale menu doesn't hurt either. Moubayed's creation is a critical darling ("Best Foie Gras," "Best Gourmet Chicken," ?"Best Bar," "Best Vichyssoise," "Most Romantic Restaurant"...), with even the New York Times and Bon App�tit falling under her spell. And as I bit into the calamari - a dish I often find myself regretfully equating with industrial-grade rubber - I definitely experienced the magic.
But while it may not look it, Providence is a major university town, site of not only the prestigious Rhode Island School of Design, but also Brown and Johnson & Wales. Consequently, the city's food scene tends to be two-tiered: The casual, artsy, free-trade cafes (say, the Small Point) and patisseries (Ellie's Bakery) for the students the closer one gets to the aptly-named College Hill section of town; and the more refined, elegant, showcase eateries further west and south, where Cav competes with the tapas mecca of Bocado, and The Grange, a rustic vegetarian eatery whose cuisine easily made me forget I'm a committed carnivore.
Everything blurs deliciously midway in Downtown, particularly on the "Three W's," Washington, Westminster, and Weybosset Streets. And the city's lanes themselves are native habitat for some of Providence's most recognizable eats: Street-side kiosks go a long way in satisfying a case of the munchies. They are the only places in town to get a good "gagger," a hot wiener known to be a bit pungent. I was pointedly told not to eat mine in a car.
Veni, Vedi, Edi
But high-end or low, Providence takes its vittles seriously - they even have a museum dedicated to the craft: The Culinary Arts Museum. Part of Johnson & Wales University, the hollowed halls where Emeril Lagasse got his start, the museum is a good indicator that when you go to Providence for the food, you are playing with the big boys.
The city owes its diverse menus to its diverse population; Germans, Irish, Portuguese, Spaniards, and Africans all add their spice. Italians began showing up in the 1800s, and make up 19 percent of Li'l Rhody's population, the greatest of any state. Proud of their heritage, the restaurants spangling theFederal Hill section of "Provi" is Italy in all but language.
This is a neighborhood made to graze. Local icons like Costantino's, Roma, and Tony's Colonial double as Italian food emporiums, where you can chow down on bruschetta or prosciutto and a veritable rainbow of cheese and olive selections and walk it off on the way to the next find. Topping it off with a sweet swing through the historic Scialo Bros. Bakery, not only was I full, I was thin from the trekking!
Butchery and Barolo
But perhaps you are more of the Type A sort of soul. For those whom the Thanksgiving turkey or Christmas goose is far too sacred a creature to trust to Butterball, go on over to Antonelli Poultry (can't miss it; the entrance is flanked by two huge chickens). Here you can bond with the alive-and-kicking bird of your choosing right before the friendly staff whack it on-site - not the place for people convinced meat magically falls from the sky cryovaced in ready-to-serve portions.
A little less stomach churning, but absolutely necessary for DIY types, is Gasbarro's Wines, whose provenance is almost as long as some of the vintages they sell. Italian varieties and regions can deter even the most ambition oenophile, so where does one begin? That was the question I asked Mark Gasbarro, whose knowledge is gleaned from four generations of Gasbarros.
I went in looking for the usual cabernets and chardonnays, but came out with names I had never heard of - and was glad I did. Gasbarro's is the only place in the country to getConti Ducco Franciacorta, a sparkling wine from Lombardy (nabbed one). The stock is exhaustive, including selections of comebacks from the Soave region, a whole family of whites written off as "over" just a few years ago, and reds ranging from budget-minded Flaio Primitivo Salento 2012 to the upscale Antinori Tignanello.
After I made my purchases, Gasbarro was also kind enough to give a few recommendations for the future (the man is a virtual Dionysus). Not one to rest on laurels, Italy's vintners are constantly reinventing their lines, if not inventing them outright. Baci Vivaci is the Sicilian take on bubbly, and the Proprietary Red Blend from the Cliffhanger Vineyard, a winery dangling from the Dolomite Mountains, is a classic stand-by red.
Just remember, you can have either red or white in your glass, just don't put it in your clam chowder. In Providence, you're just asking for it.