Caffe Aldo Lamberti

This is our second Silver Spoon restaurant to be featured and I've driven by it almost every day since May of this year. Caffe Aldo Lamberti is in Cherry Hill, NJ and sits on the corner of Rt. 70 and Grove St.

Let me preface this by saying that this restaurant from the outside looks so modern and (literally) shiny that I first mistook it years ago for a car dealership. In fact, because there is such an odd abundance of car dealerships in Cherry Hill, NJ, for a while afterwards out of the corner of my eye, I still thought that it could possibly be one. It’s located on a major highway that leads straight to Philadelphia, in a kind of hard-to-access area unless you’ve tried to get into its lot a few times.

This place has these two marquees that change weekly, sometimes daily, and always expressing some new item they’ve just received in the formula of adjective + fish + event = a reason to come try their food. For example, “Sweet Chilean Sea Bass freshly flown in, just in time for Prom”! Well, they probably didn’t market themselves quite that way for the prom crowd, but regardless, you get my drift.

I decided on a whim the Friday of my first week of work to celebrate and go. We had made a promise that we couldn’t review anymore diners until we reviewed a silver spoon, so this was perfect. We were somewhat out of place (not just because I had incorrectly told Chris that nice shorts were probably OK) but because we were younger than the average person in there by about 10-15 years- at least! It should be noted that we dined at 6:00 PM and almost everybody was at the bar that is outside, but features one side that is covered by the ceiling for those wanting to talk to their dates with less whooshing from cars flying down Route 70. I feel like our waiters noticed too, but among the three (3!) people that serviced us for those couple of hours we were definitely well taken care of- even if each side perceived the other to be…awkward.

For my main course I ordered off their Seasonal Menu (this was only after I turned down some of their specials which included a butterfish). I went with the Pan Seared Cape May Sea Scallops. It seemed more environmentally friendly to go with a more local selection than to eat a fish that was flown in from the Southeast Pacific (probably fresher, too). Our waiter complemented me on my selection and went to place our order. Chi and I then sat and waited for a while nibbling on the two types of bread that was brought to our table. The bread was served with home made (or at least home bottled) extra virgin olive oil. The olive oil certainly was different than anything I've ever bought from Wegmans. It had a fresh, cool quality to it, and for me, it set the tone for what the rest of the meal would be like; Caffe Aldo Lamberti tries to take the standard to the next level. The other bread that was at our table had a tomato sauce on it, which essentially made it a bunch of pizza-sticks (not to detract from the complexity of the sauce). They were tangy and warm, and like the olive oil, fresh. It was the first time I have been served complementary bread before a meal that was more than bread.

Our (non-pizza) bread was pretty average, but I agree that our olive oil (or, “oo” as I’ll refer to it) was not. This was the first time I was ever given the whole bottle. It had high notes of what I can only imagine (in my limited oo palate) was citrus. It also came with a small dish of big green olives and made me wonder: Do real Italians eat their bread this way? Was this an attempt to be authentic, or was it truly so?

Did you know that good oo should be marketed like good wine? For example, on the bottle, it shouldn’t just say “Product of Italy” (because it you read more closely there’s a good chance that it was still bottled in the US), but it should clearly state from what olive farm/plantation in whatever city it came from.

Chris and I decided to be adventurous and essentially upgrade our usual order of calamari to their grilled octopus. We were taken back by how it was presented.

Grilled Octopus

We soon discovered that it was partially pre-disassembled for ease of consumption, which was good since it was very…fleshy. I had never tasted octopus that tasted so much like meat before. It was delicious but slightly off-putting since I don’t eat meat. It was tender, with no taste of grimy ocean, or any of the general things that can turn people off. Well, that is unless you consider the fact that the suction cups on its legs still worked. (Chris tested them). Our only critique was that we wished it was crispier at the ends. Funny enough, this was the second time we had had grilled octopus within a week. The first was at Sapori, a delicious and rustic Italian restaurant in Collingswood where I had my “yay, I’m employed”-celebration dinner. I preferred Sapori’s, but I suspect Chris enjoyed this version more.

Pan Seared Sea Scallops

When the food came to the table I was still hungry and thank goodness thing since my plate consisted of five large scallops sitting on a dense bed of squid ink linguine with oil, garlic, and zesty red and yellow tomatoes. The scallops were the slightest bit chewy even though they remained very tender. Their buttery flavor was easily the highlight of the meal. Unfortunately the searing on the scallops was not uniform on every scallop. The ones that were more seared seemed to be tenderer almost as though the less seared scallops were cooked longer at a lower temperature. I can comfortably give the scallops a very good rating, but certainly not great. This was my first time having squid ink linguine and I wasn't lying when I said it was dense. It started to fill me up right away which was a shame since the meal was going in a wonderful direction. The squid ink gave the pasta an earthy, rich flavor (I'm sure the oil contributed to that as well), but kept its raw pasta flavor while enhancing the depth of the meal. With all the sweet, wholesome notes on the plate, the garlic and tomatoes gave the dish the zip it needed. The tomatoes were bright and summery and the garlic was not cooked to sweetness and left very pure.

Sweet Potato Gnocchi

I ordered the sweet potato gnocchi after much debate over what entre to choose. I had originally wanted the catch-of-the-day risotto, but upon hearing that it was a Dover sole, and not wanting to purchase something without a price, I picked the gnocchi. I love the stuff and almost always gravitate towards it when eating Italian. (Side note: for great, fresh, hand-made gnocchi in the area, head to Spasso’s in Old City, Philadelphia). It sounded like a genius and whimsical take on a normal gnocchi, and I looked forward to the contrast between a likely truffle/garlic sauce and the sweetness. While there was a contrast, and the sauce and mushrooms ended up being delicious as expected, the gnocchi itself was disappointing…but the kind of disappointing that just creeps up on you. My first bite was fine, although I immediately noticed there was a slick, oily coating that seemed to not release the potato inside. A further bite confirmed my suspicion that this gnocchi wasn’t going to be satisfyingly smushable in my mouth and was (somehow) neither fluffy nor dense. It occurred to me that for it being what it was, that it wasn’t especially sweet-potato-y.

Tiramisu

The dessert continued the theme of the restaurant. We opted for the tiramisu. We were surprised when the dish came out. The best way to describe it is an espresso soaked (soaked!) lady finger, surrounded in a mascarpone-whipped cream, dusted with espresso powder, topped with a halved strawberry, and finished off with a lady finger sticking out askew of it all. Oh, it also came in a squat martini/dessert glass, a whimsical approach on an Italian classic. The cream was the first aspect of the dessert we encountered. It was incredibly light, but at the same time it was runny (though I have a theory of why that might be). The show stopper of the dessert was what the cream was surrounding. The soaked ladyfinger in the middle was gushing with flavor. It was sweet and rich and light all at the same time. I believe the total liquid content of the dessert accounted for a runny whipped cream. The actual burst of flavor and liquid that came from the center of the tiramisu not only made the dessert delicious but also fun to eat. The ladyfinger pointing out the top was fun for dipping but in comparison to the rest, it might have well been only garnishing.

Additional notes: Don't be in a rush. There will be a wait between the courses but just enjoy the atmosphere while you watch the forty-somethings get drunk off Shiraz and Pinot Grigio during their happy hour. I took home my dish hoping that my general craving for heavy, starchy foods would leave me reheating it and giving it another chance the next day but when Chris’s mother was cleaning out the fridge a week later, I made no attempt to save it. Also, their wineries looked impressive (boasting 800 wines!!) and so I'll definitely have to come back if to do nothing else but take a tour of their selection.