Reviews
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Masta Pasta
Second location gives Figo fans more choices in less-crowded setting
By John Kessler
THE ORIGINAL FIGO PASTA, a tiny place, opened with these intentions, in this
order:
A -- Sell dried pasta and ravioli to local restaurants.
B -- Offer mix-and-match meals of pasta and sauce from a carry-out window.
C -- Allow some stools for the few souls who didn't fancy their pasta boxed
up and a bit of counter space to have a meal on the premises.
You know what happened? C, C and more C. Everyone wanted to eat their pasta
then and there.
It was a zoo. I still remember one visit to Figo Pasta when I had to grunt and make unpleasant noises behind someone's back until he relinquished his stool. Then I looked about and noticed that people were inhaling noodles sitting on the sidewalks, pressed into corners and hunched over their car hoods in the parking lot. It was like I had taken a wrong turn in Middle Earth and ended up in the land of the Pasta Eaters. My trusty valet, Sam, said, "They have strange customs, sir. You must offer them freshly grated Parmesan to earn their trust."
Anyhow, I and every other Figo fan trusted that the responsible parties would cotton to the obvious need for seating. Owners Sandro Romagnoli and Mirko di Giacomantonio responded quickly, opening a second location, Osteria del Figo, just down the way in the Westside development. Once again, the place is mobbed. But this time, diners don't have to poise their pasta bowls on their Chevy Impalas. There are tables aplenty.
The new Figo seems an ideal neighborhood restaurant, with good prices, good energy and good food. I'm always happy to make a meal of a lively salad and a steaming bowl of pasta, drop a 10 spot and be on my way.
During peak hours, there is usually a line snaking out the door. But it moves quickly as diners place their orders at the counter, receive a colorful pepper mill and seat themselves. The pepper mills -- painted in miniature-golf-ball stripes and solids -- signal the waiter, who'll bring your meal within five or 10 minutes.
The look is Italian warmth on the cheap. The buttery-yellow walls display crockery and arrangements of dried pasta, pans clatter in the open kitchen and waiters bring tumblers of red wine to guests sitting at dark-stained wood tables.
The menu dishes out a bit more ambition at this location, with several appetizers and specials rounding out the original menu of pastas and sauces. I'm happy with a generous serving of prosciutto and melon (at $6, one of this town's bargains), and the bruschetta topped with well-marinated tomatoes is always good.
But I'm always up for a salad here; they're large enough to share. There are some real gourmet touches: The caprese salad alternates ripe tomato with buffalo mozzarella; the green salad boasts shredded ricotta salata and black olives; the spinach salad with goat cheese, raisins and balsamic walnut vinaigrette does an admirable job of balancing its sweet and sour impulses.
And then a pasta in one of the kitchen's cooked tomato sauces hits the spot. The rimless bowls here are perfect -- they cup the pasta and keep it hot and promise real food rather than flash.
The penne finds a better home in this bowl with either a toss of the spicy amatriciana sauce, complex with the salty flavor of pancetta bacon or the arrabbiata sauce, which is "angry" with red pepper but fully vegetarian.
The gemelli (a twirled helix shape; the name means "twins") likes these sauces, as well as the Siciliana, which is studded with chunks of well-cooked eggplant and gooey globs of mozzarella.
These pastas offer a nice springiness and a fresh flavor of flour that you might expect from a biscuit but not from your standard box of penne.
On the other hand, the checca sauce with chopped fresh tomato, mozzarella and basil always seems watery and clumsy in the bowl. I think the message is that the cooked tomato sauces rule.
You can finish off with perfectly decent tiramisu....