For Valentine's Day, we asked: Where can one procure the most romantic culinary bang for one's buck? Intimate, steamy-windowed Rinata, co-owned by Jonathan Hunt and Amor Hantous, has been doing its cozy Tuscan trattoria-with-homemade-pasta thing since 2008, and every Sunday it offers a lovely four-course prix-fixe menu, which changes weekly, for a mere $20 per person.
Italians have always had the corner on the romance market. Their sensualist ethos means that food needs to be fresh and simple, yet meticulously executed and enjoyed with the same care. The prix-fixe option forces impatient dummies like us to stop and enjoy the full glory of the extended ritual. It also allows for plenty of time for hand-holding and staring contests in between courses.
I enlisted my long-suffering roommate Abby and her beau Alan to serve as the adorable test couple, whom I would continuously, annoyingly query for insight on the relative value-to-romance quotient throughout the meal. As for me: I chose a "Fletch"-era Chevy Chase as my imaginary date.
True skinflints will also want to take advantage of the simultaneous happy hour from 4:30 to 6 p.m., with half-price wine bottles (such as the Canaletto Montepulciano D' Abruzzo red for $13) and discounted cocktails from Scott Butter's charmingly crafted drink menu (including the dark, exotic Negroni and the femme-friendly Proseccotini with vodka, blackberry, house-made limoncello and organic prosecco, both $5). The house red and white blends are refreshingly respectable, immensely drinkable and reasonably priced.
Service is consummately deft, knowledgeable and conscientious, in the way that one expects from highbrow establishments. Our server, Jack, deftly modulated the speed at which courses were served, probably because he's a badass.
A basket of tender, olive oil-laden foccacia with sundried tomato pesto appeared. And then antipasti: cracker-thin bruschetta with warm fennel sausage, red onion and lush roasted garlic goat cheese spread; variously fruity, saline and earthy Mediterranean olives marinated with herbs and garlic; or lovable eggplant involtini with pistachio garlic goat cheese and a vibrant, finely pulped tomato sauce -- the sum of which turned me from an eggplant agnostic into an eggplant believer.
I asked my test couple whether they were feeling sparks. "No," Abby responded. "It's not romantic because you are here, and you are sitting next to my boyfriend." Alan deftly switched seats to sit next to his lady in the more chivalrous European fashion, while I continued to stare into space at my comic-genius soulmate, Chevy Chase circa 1985.
The insalate course involved tiny, curly micro-greens with matchstick roasted root vegetables, almonds and roasted beets tinged with blood orange-lemon vinaigrette, or two large Romaine hearts drizzled with garlic and anchovy-centric dressing, shards-o-parm and two large crispy garlic-pepper croutons. Romance level? Sizzling, due to optimal levels of wine consumption, titillating salads and all-around cozying-in. Abby and Alan nestled together like two happy badgers.
Entrées, fabulous entrées included buttery, cinnamon-enveloped ravioli with roasted butternut squash, lil' fried sage leaves and brown butter; silky al dente fettuccine with firm albeit slightly overcooked Texas wild-caught shrimp and a white wine garlic sauce; or the comforting classic of spaghetti with giant, tender-steamed, mildly spiced meatballs and a proper marinara made with fresh tomato, carrots, onions, red peppers and basil.
Loving feelings? Yes, but happy fullness had transformed our initial food lust into a more secure and mutually respectful sense of partnernship. Tummies were collectively rubbed.
Last (and best): dessert! A bold-flavored Sambuca-chocolate tiramisu with crème anglaise, or a custardy, homemade coffee or vanilla gelato. Espresso shots also came in handy, to infuse those heart cockles with a final blast of warmth, before returning home to put on some pajamas and watch some "Caddyshack."
