Andrew
Google
From the outside, Lardo resembles a cozy home—small, warmly lit, framed by a large window and a red-toned wood façade. It gives the illusion of walking into someone’s dining room, inviting and intimate. Past the entrance, the real dining space opens up in the back: fewer than twenty seats, white brick walls, light wood tables, candles flickering softly like the food’s about to whisper secrets. It’s intimate without trying. Calm without being cold.
Service is polished and personable. Waiters are neatly dressed, attentive without intrusion, and quick to explain specials or details. That evening: Cascumpec oysters and Cacio e Pepe suppli. We ordered both, along with the housemade focaccia with their signature lardo, the beef tartare, a saffron-infused risotto milanese, and braised short ribs (a fitting stand-in for the traditional osso buco).
The oysters were clean and briny, balanced by a bright mignonette. The suppli—crisp shell, creamy interior, sharp black pepper—executed perfectly. The tartare stood out for its texture: rich, finely cut beef, creamy egg, and the earthiness of mushrooms providing depth. The focaccia deserves its reputation—springy, crisped on top, paired with the lardo’s salty, silken richness and a sprinkle of flaky salt. The risotto was glossy and indulgent, its saffron warmth offset by gremolata and melt-apart short ribs. The red cabbage added a sweet contrast that balanced the plate. Everything delivered, though nothing crossed into transcendent.
Dessert: tiramisu. A must-order. The flavors—cold espresso-soaked ladyfingers and strong cocoa—were spot on. The mascarpone cream, though flavorful, leaned too thick and dulled the overall balance.
Lardo captures the essence of refined comfort—thoughtful, well-executed food in an intimate setting. While it didn’t deliver a revelatory dish, it’s consistently strong across the board.
4.2/5
