Limoncello- La Mesa, CA

I wanted gnocchi. I was growing hungry watching the Reruns of To Catch a Predator on YouTube, and very few things build an appetite like observing pedophiles getting caught in sting operations. I had two options: Go to the store and make them myself or dine at an establishment that made them for me. Since I hadn’t been to Limoncello, just blocks from my home, and they made gnocchi, I figured now was the perfect time. I decided to ditch Chris Hansen to make it an evening, so I washed my hair, hell, I even used my Jimmy Choo body wash instead of a Dove bar. I looked in the mirror and, as I combed my hair and realized I looked like the ladies in the “Addicted to Love” video, I wanted to redo it, but my hunger awaits. Nonetheless, I’m sure I made Robert Palmer proud. In the book Between Meals: An Appetite for Paris, A.J. Liebling states, “The primary requisite for writing well about food is a good appetite.” And contrary to my swimmer’s physique, I was bringing mine.

I was immediately seated by the hostess when I arrived. The vibe was relaxing with low-toned music, white walls decorated with lemons, colorful floral arrangements, and ceiling lights. Given the choice, I made my way towards the back, which had fewer people. I knew what I wanted, but I still needed to glance at the menu. I asked what would pair well with the gnocchi, and it was recommended to have Pinot Grigio, IL Masso Friuli. I felt obliged to do so. Scanning the menu, I noticed a mandatory option for antipasti, and I wouldn’t turn it down. Polpo, roasted Mediterranean octopus with pesto and a potato artichoke puree. Since octopus is a favorite of mine and White wine with seafood typically goes well together, it seemed like an easy decision. I also ordered gnocchi with sausage. The menu has something for everyone. Classics like Cacio E Pepe, Lasagna Bolognese, Pappardelle, Carbonara, Ossobuco, and Risotto. If you’re fancy, there’s squid ink spaghetti and Ravioli di Aragosta, half-mooned lobster ravioli in a lobster bisque sauce. If you’re attention-seeking with a flair for the dramatics, they’ll toss your pasta in a Parmesan wheel at your tableside, and if you’re a rabbit, there are salads.

The Polpo arrived. The waiter leaned my dish a little to the side, displacing the sauces, taking away my right to eat with my eyes first. This wasn’t the end-all be-all, and by no means is it a reason not to come back; I just admire the artwork of a chef’s food placement when it comes to the overall experience. The center of the dish was visually appealing; a crispy octopus arm wrapped around the puree atop roasted potatoes. The potatoes were soft and sopped up the sauce well; the octopus was pleasantly well-cooked, the best part being the crispy end, which had a similar flavor profile and texture to a potato chip. Adding a squeeze of lemon to the dish helped enhance the flavor of the capers in the puree, pairing beautifully with the citrus undertones of the Pinot Grigio. Plate cleaned, wine gone.

Not long after my plate was removed, the gnocchi made its appearance. The only critique of gnocchi should be about how soft and light it is. It should resemble a pillow, a cloud. I should be able to rest my head on my gnocchi. If your restaurant's gnocchi is a dense plate of bricks, it was more than likely overworked or store-bought. Limoncellos' gnocchi presented itself tossed in a creamy pesto sauce with burrata, sausage, and garnished with cherry tomatoes and basil. The gnocchi were soft, I would feel comfortable lying my head on top of one of their gnocchi for a nap. The fat from the sausage, combined with the creaminess of the sauce and burrata, was great with the acidity of the slightly cooked tomatoes. My only critique is that they should add a couple more tomatoes. I was out of wine. Pinot Grigio might go well with seafood and a summer breeze, but I now needed a wine that would ignite the passion in my blood, a wine that would penetrate the marrow in my bones, at a reasonable price, of course. The waiter recommended a glass of Tomaresca Primitivo Neprica, an Italian red. I obliged again. Without knowing my inner thoughts for a strong red wine, the waiter’s recommendation was spot on. Since wine is a sensory experience, I began to feel warm sipping in between bites. The wine paired well with the food; the light gnocchi, in contrast with the dark, heavy red wine, was the yin to its yang. I finished my wine, but not my plate, and it wasn’t because of the food; it was because I wanted dessert.

Typically, when I go out to eat, I am not big on ordering dessert. I like to gorge myself with my appetizer and entrée. Limoncello had options of Cannoli, Tiramisu, or chocolate lava cake. I went with the lighter of the three and ordered the tiramisu along with an espresso. The tiramisu arrived in a copper container garnished with strawberries, mint, and a touch of powdered sugar. It was a traditionally flavored and structured tiramisu of layered crema al mascarpone and espresso-soaked savoiardi topped with cocoa powder. It was a serviceable tiramisu, a proper ending to a good meal.

I left the restaurant full, not a guilty full, but an I’m uncomfortable but satisfied full. To sum things up, Limoncello is a reliable Italian restaurant if you're in the La Mesa area. They have a menu for all ages with pricing to match today’s economy. Whether you want a snack, a meal, or just a cocktail, Limoncello can meet either need. In a time of robots taking orders at kiosks and rude customer service due to a lack of social skills, Limoncello didn’t have those issues. They were quick in service, communicative, kind, attentive, and welcoming hosts. After a short ride, I made it home, greeted by a paused episode of To Catch A Predator. Despite its temptation, I resisted the urge to press play; I was due for a nap. If only I had gnocchi to rest my head on.