When asking around for a good "cornetto" place to finish off a night in Rome, it always feels like inquiring about a Masonic lodge. Folks check you out, trying to figure out if it's OK to disclose the secret. Then furtively looking around and whispering so as not to be overheard, miraculously an address slips out of tight lips, but only if you have been deemed worthy.
Everyone has a favorite cornetto dealer, almost always located in remote whereabouts, and typically underground. Directions to these secret society hang-outs usually begin with: "Look, it's a little bit complicated". This produces the stereotype middle-of-the-night knocking on unidentifiable shut gates in seedy industrial areas of the city, climbing in mysterious elevators, challenging three headed dragons and completing wild Hercules-style tasks to be granted the privilege of sinking one's teeth in a warm, fragrant just baked cornetto - a croissant.
It is therefore with the respect of an initiate introduced to a new religion that one must approach the subject. Humbly, head bowed, eyes averted. Listening carefully to the complex directions, treasuring them, keeping them safely in one's custody and dispensing them with extreme caution.
The address to a good
cornettaro—Roman slang for the typical night-shift baker that sells croissants (usually an artisanal bakery/patisserie workshop) is worth gold. The perils cornetto seekers are faced with in the wee hours of the night are always lurking. One of them is seeing your favorite cornetto pusher shutting down. Er Montacarichi in via Pietralata 159A for example, a dimly lit warehouse whose service elevator pulls patrons up into the bowels of a steaming furnace where the goods are baked, and whose street level metal shutter has been mysteriously pulled down for years now. It would be trouble if the joint were no longer in business. Throngs of aficionados and cornetto junkies willing to to cross a deserted garage and climb in the musty floor lift would be at a loss without their nightly dose.
Those who believe such things can only happen in the outskirts of town are in for a surprise. Rome is dotted with cornettari. A city ordinance scared millions of nighttime consumers earlier this year when voices started circulating that selling food in bakeries and workshops after hours was illegal.
«Il cornetto è salvo» —the croissant is saved. Rome's mayor Alemanno's thundering sentence ended the controversy lifted by news of a presumed municipal law involving historic Roman cornettari, which prohibited the sale of their tasty goods after 1:00 am. A group gathered 8000 signatures on facebook for a picket line in Campidoglio, Rome's city hall; others feared a curfew blaming Alemanno's right wing affiliations to be returning Rome to its 20-year Fascist epoch, others simply feared the Eternal City would lose its status of cornetto capital that doesn't sleep. Whatever the political agenda, croissant bakers WILL continue to stay open and sell sweetness all night. And that's all that counts.
Image courtesy of 06blog
Last night, as my son snored in dreamy slumber, I payed the nanny's silence extra cash and tiptoed out of the house. I snuck out dressed in black, feverishly anticipating the adventure. Fortunately Laboratorio Lambiase has survived the bad economy and surge in cheap bars that serve stale cornetti made with industrially manufactured frozen dough.
I arrived at 1.15 am and the place was bopping with activity. Bystanders with glazed eyes and chocolate-smeared faces stood loitering the sidewalk, the moans of pleasure grew louder as I neared the small steps of the entrance that lead the believer down to a worldly universe of sweet pleasures. An exclusive circle, open to a selected handful of lucky few. Heroic knights who do not give in to the temptation offered by the luring neon lights of the "regular" cafes along the way, populated by lonely slot machine addicts and the occasional stranded drunk, no. This is a place for lionhearts and seekers of perfection.
The house specialty at Lambiase is a danish roll baked express and served hot. It is then filled with custard, fresh whipped cream and drizzled with chocolate sauce. This awesome calorie bomb goes by the ambiguous (and cheeky) name of "Sorchetta Doppio Schizzo," which I cannot translate because I agreed to posting no adult content on this site. Let's just say the analogy is with kittens and female reproductive organs. The expression doppio schizzo is the description of the pastry's topping, and means "double squirt." The long line of triple-parked cars that obstruct Via Cernaia from midnight to dawn is the undeniable sign of Lambiase's (and their divine sorchetta specialty's) ongoing success. I saw people leaving the shop with bagfuls, and surely not for next morning's breakfast. Others were spilling in giggling and high with the perfumy air that escaped the ventilation shafts in the street. I reached the counter, asked for a sorchetta and ended up eating two. Plus took one home for Mr E.
Laboratorio Lambiase also specializes in regular croissants, krapfen (a delicious fried pastry filled with custard), donuts, puff pastry elephant ears locally called ventagli (elephant ears), bite-size spicy pizzas and rustici, which are small, assorted savory canapés.
Pasticceria Laboratorio LambiaseVia Cernaia 47A Tel. +39 06 4941363
(please don't say I told you)
More worthy cornettari, divided by area:
Trastevere: Unnamed bakery/pastry shop on Vicolo del Cinque
Testaccio: No name pastry workshop on Via Alessandro Volta
Marconi/EUR: Il Cornettone in Via Oderisi da Gubbio; No name bakery workshop in Via Pietro Blaserna, 38
Monteverde: Unnamed pastry/bakery workshop in Via di Monteverde
Prati: Quelli della Notte on Via Leone IV; Dolce Maniera on Via Barletta, 29; Unnamed bakery workshop on Viale Angelico
Trionfale: No name bakery/pastry shop on Via Angelo Emo
Boccea: No name bakery/pastry shop on Via di Forte Bravetta
Centocelle: No name bakery/pastry shop on Via dei Platani
Parioli: Bambu's Bar on Viale Parioli; Marcucci in Piazzale Ponte Milvio
Nomentano: Pasticceria Romoli on Viale Eritrea, 140-142
L'Angolo Russo in Piazza Sempione
San Giovanni: No name bakery/pastry workshop on Via Albalonga, near Piazza Re di Roma
Cinecittà: Pasticceria Tichetti on Via Appio Claudio
