CUCINA URBANA
505 Laurel St.
San Diego, CA 92101
(619) 239-2222
www.sdurbankitchen.com
Hours:
Lunch: Tue.-Fri. 11:30 a.m.-2 p.m.
Dinner: Sun.-Mon. 5-9 p.m., Tue.-Thur. 5-10 p.m., Fri.-Sat. 5-10:30 p.m./pizza & vasi 10:30 p.m.-midnight.
By David Nelson
When you suspect someone of having spent the last several months living under a rock, just ask the person’s opinion of Cucina Urbana.
If the question elicits a blank look and a response of “Huh,” there’s no question that the individual has been grabbing a lot of rock time. Cucina Urbana, restaurateur Tracy Borkum’s wildly whimsical redo of the former Laurel, at Fifth Avenue and Laurel Street in Bankers Hill, has been the talk of the town since it opened this summer with a mid-priced, Italianesque menu and a décor that needs to be seen numerous times to be absorbed. In fact, it’s entirely possible that Borkum designed the décor just to keep ‘em coming back, although chef Joe Magnanelli’s well-executed cuisine performs that feat with élan. And then there’s the fact that crowds like crowds: Very much a see-and-be-seen place, Cucina Urbana also is simply a scene where it’s fun to be. The action starts in late afternoon and percolates right through the evening.
Restaurants have been decorating themselves with “bric-a-brac” for decades, but Borkum’s décor depends more upon castoffs, unusual treasures like the antique shoe molds that line the stairs from the entry to the dining room; weirdly fun wire “shades” that don’t in the least enclose light bulbs burning high overhead; pillars wrapped in discarded residential fencing, and a professionally composed graffiti wall that seems kind of important, in a very vague way. Rest assured that guests are NOT invited to add their own contributions to the mural. Cucina Urbana is so big on visuals that it makes canvases of the athletic-style jerseys that servers wear over jeans; the shirts carry such mottos as “La vita e un piato di pasta,” or “Life is a dish of pasta.” If the decor sounds hard-edged, it’s not, thanks to rows of votive candles flickering on glass shelves, and the fire-edged shadows cast by the oven that serves San Diego’s one-and-only pizza bar. The servers are warm and personable as well, in the way San Diegans can be, and once you’re seated, it often seems like a couple of friends have decided to serve you dinner.
Magnanelli puts in 13-hour days six days a week (the restaurant survives his sole weekly absence by falling back on a very well-staffed kitchen), a tough schedule fired by his insistence on serving a big menu that shoots in multiple directions. Once you’ve read it, if you can’t find something you want to eat, you’re not trying, because Magnanelli offers variety – and then some. Some menu compartments are unique, like the vasi (“vases”), or petite Mason jars filled with such highly-flavored appetizers as pungent Mediterranean olives ($7), a sharp salad of marinated cucumber and fennel ($5.50), and an especially tasty hummus of ceci beans, served with tangy piquillo pepper jam ($6.50). These snacks resemble relishes and are served with toasted Tuscan bread.
The menu’s “boards” also are unique. Magnanelli forces several varieties of food to walk the plank, such as the day’s bruschetta, three hefty slices of rustic ciabbata bread with the toppings di giorno ($12.50). The boards also are backdrops for mounds of polenta, which are poured generously, hollowed and filled with the evening’s savory ragu (stew, $12.50). More conventional boards bear assortments of salamis and cheeses ($12 to $19).
Among appetizers, the fritto misto (“mixed fry,” $14) is truly light and delicate. Diners who may be squeamish about trying soft shell crab may marvel at the extremely sweet and subtle flavor of molting crab. Like the julienned vegetables, baby squid and large, perfect shrimp that share the plate, the crab is simply floured and plunged in hot fat long enough to create a crisp, fragile coating. The accompanying caper-flavored mayonnaise heightens the other flavors beautifully.
Innovations abound. With the exception of the superb caprese salad of burrata cheese, prosciutto, arugula and basil ($13.50), guests can expand any salad into a family-sized portion that serves three or four by adding $10 to the tab. Choices include a grilled Romaine Caesar ($9.50 before the upgrade), a classy toss of roasted baby beets, pink grapefruit, cashews and basil vinaigrette ($10), and an appealingly textured chopped salad of lettuces, slivered red onion, soppresata and pepperoni salamis, olives and pickled peppers ($9.50). The burning sensation that lingers in the mouth owes more to the spicy soppresata than the pepperoncini.
To order any pasta family-style, pony up an additional 18 bucks. If the group agrees on the excellent rigatoni bolognese ($15.50), both lightened and enriched with swirls of fresh ricotta cheese, family-style certainly is the way to go. Lasagna, lavishly stuffed with smooth besciamela (white sauce simmered to a velvety finish) and a delicious ragu of sausage and veal, arrives bubbling in a red-hot casserole ($16). The heat discourages most guests from diving right in (it wouldn’t be wise), while the fragrance makes the wait seem interminable. The pasta list continues with offerings such as goat cheese and lemon ravioli ($17), and tagliatelle with duck confit ($17.50).
Among entrees, the lovely, vegetarian presentation of eggplant parmigiana with vegetable “pasta” ($15.50) holds its own against such big guns as grilled tri-tip with red onion jam ($20) and an exceptional veal piccata ($20). Less formal but filling, the pizzas include a well-made margherita with house-made mozzarella ($12), and a wild mushroom pie perfumed with truffle oil ($13). After these, the sampler of gelati, sorbets and cookies shares sweetly ($9).
David Nelson has written about dining in San Diego since 1980 for a comprehensive list of Southern California publications.
