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There are meals where you ease into things slowly, and then there are meals at Claudio’s Ristorante—where the focaccia hits the table and suddenly everyone sits up a little straighter. The Burnaby-based room itself sets the stage: lively but not chaotic, warm but not dim; the kind of Italian dining energy where you can’t tell if the noise level is the restaurant’s doing or your own table enjoying itself too much. (In our case, I’m willing to take some responsibility. My grade school teachers used to tell my mother, “William’s voice carries.”)
Focaccia and Almond Ricottina. William Johnson
The focaccia arrived with Claudio’s almond ricottina, a house-made ricotta that looks simple right up until the first bite. Light, creamy, topped with balsamic and accompanied by olive tapenade, it’s the kind of spread you pretend to portion politely before giving up and just going for it.
The Cacio e Pepe salad. William Johnson
Then there’s the Cacio e Pepe salad. Not everyone gets excited about salad; I am not everyone. It’s iceberg lettuce—a humble base—and then suddenly it’s guanciale, cheese, pepper, and crunch. It’s essentially the spirit of a bowl of cacio e pepe poured over a wedge salad, and if you’re someone who likes a little fat with your greens, you’ll understand why I was ready to ask for a second round. Eating a “salad” sort of helps you feel marginally better about the amount of pasta you’re about to consume.
Carpaccio 22 William Johnson
The carpaccio we had is exactly the sort of dish that convinces you Italian food was meant to be eaten while holding a Negroni. Thin, ruby slices of wagyu laid out like a mosaic, dotted with truffle aioli and shaved Pecorino, served with toasted bread that’s more sponge than crisp. It’s a feast for the eyes first, then a clean, luxurious bite that wakes the palate up without overwhelming it. A perfect appetizer or, frankly, a perfect dinner if you’re ordering only so you can linger over cocktails.
The Trofie pasta. William Johnson
Those early plates helped something click: Claudio’s is a family-run restaurant (opened by brothers Stefano and Daniele Magagnin, named in honour of their father), but the high-end polish is unmistakable. That polish comes from executive chef Aubrey Aliggayu, who started his culinary journey in the dish pit of a small Italian restaurant and eventually made his way into Michelin-starred kitchens in New York. At Claudio’s, his approach shows in the details—food that feels like it’s made with love, but guided by a very disciplined hand.
The chef’s pasta courses are where that balance fully lands. The three I loved the most will be featured as part of the chef’s table menu starting in January. The trofie arrives coated in a bright, basil-forward sauce that’s herby and fresh without veering into greenness. Each piece of pasta holds its chew, and it’s one of those dishes where you keep trying to slow down so you can taste everything, and then forget to because it’s too good.
Executive chef Aubrey Aliggayu and co-owner Stefano Magagnin. William Johnson
Then came the moment of theatre: the giant raviolo. My girlfriend’s daughters love cutting into soft-boiled eggs just to watch the yolk spill out—it’s an event. This raviolo gives you that exact same thrill. You cut into it and everything inside flows, rich and golden. It’s cooked perfectly, delicious, and just plain fun to eat.
The ravioli. William Johnson
The capeletti might have been the most purely comforting dish of the night. Handmade, perfectly dense, with a savoury filling and a light sauce that didn’t get in the way. I genuinely don’t understand how Italians aren’t all blissfully full at all times when this is their baseline.
The Bonet Piemontese. William Johnson
Dessert brought two classics. The Bonet Piemontese arrived with a crumble that I became immediately obsessed with—basically crushed amaretti cookies, which should honestly be sold by the bag. And the tiramisu? A classic, and a classic for a reason. Light, creamy, espresso-soaked, unfussy.
Claudio’s doesn’t reinvent anything. It doesn’t have to. What it does is remind you how satisfying Italian food can be when a kitchen cares about craft and when the service feels like family. I think this is Burnaby’s “pull-up-a-chair” Italian spot—but with serious talent behind it. That combination makes it worth the trip, worth the carbs, and worth the extra focaccia you will definitely order.
Claudio’s Ristorante is located at 103-4402 Skyline Drive, Burnaby, BC.
Dining and Cooking