As fall lumbers on to the beating drum of assignments and papers, it sometimes feels like we’re looking for a good ol’ Deep-Valley Betsy-Tacy-style comfort. A Heinz. A classic homestyle restaurant. The place you always order a banana split and a soda. That is Sal’s by Victor for me and my family. Whenever there’s the question, ‘Where do you want to eat?’, my entire family answers unanimously: Sal’s.
Some things simply become an instinct, as self-evident as procrastinating your History class reading to write a Flat Hat article, doing the ballerina tip toe on the top floor of Swem, or picking up the textural delight of Ben and Jerry’s cannoli ice cream, ditching disappointment for the legend of the taste buds that is Phish Food. You just do it.
Last year, I didn’t have the roots for reflex as an out of state student from Michigan. It sometimes was exhausting making the effort to build new roots, searching for the right place, and sometimes I just didn’t have a clue. This year I do. This one’s for all the freshmen out there, searching for a place to take your family to. As Family Weekend approaches, I will bequeath my carbolicious wisdom upon you, my gentle readers.
For a bit of history, Sal’s was founded in 1974 by Salvatore with the goal of creating traditional Italian food from Northern and Southern Italy and has never backed down since. As all amateur Italian food enthusiasts know, one of the hallmarks of Italian cuisine is the freshness of the ingredients. Sal’s uses extra virgin olive oil, imported fresh parmesan and mozzarella, and their pasta and sauce are handmade in their kitchen. Not only that, the menu offers a wide array of carbohydrate options for the gluten conscious, options that do not resemble the DNA of cardboard. This traditional Italian restaurant is authentic from the adornment of its walls to the spirals of its pasta.
From the moment of my family’s arrival at Sal’s, we were greeted by an Italian mamma and a kind “hello” as we were taken to our table. The bread delivered to our table was crisp around the edges, with a bit of butter, to be splayed across this dry, spongy canvas. The walls surrounded us with impressionistic portraits of joyous companions and realistic landscapes of Italy by Italian artists. For an addition to the ambience, on any Friday evening you’ll hear the hum of an accordion played by local Italian artist Jim Rice in the background of the warm and crowded restaurant.
Within a few short minutes of ordering, we were each served huge side salad and water.
The salad was fresh cut, topped with nutty parmesan cheese and fresh cut croutons with a spot of fresh Caesar dressing on the side.
Then with a flourish, the grande finale — our food — was delivered on a cylindrical dish: a piece de resistance meant to be spread about the face and talked over. My dad ordered his fettuccine Alfredo. My mom ordered her favorite gluten-free Alfredo. The fettuccine came out with noodles and chicken piled in a massive mesa of sliced chicken and delicately twined pasta, sprinkled with sprigs of parsley. I ordered my favorite: their chicken Parmesan with Alfredo sauce. The pasta was tender, the strands proportional with a modicum of salt, all delicately woven into a bed of Alfredo sauce. The chicken strips that caressed the pasta were dense, but covered with warm, melty mozzarella cheese. The chicken itself was moderately coated in flaky, crisp breading, with the meat underneath warm and tender to the chew. We savored our dishes while talking on and on about life and gesturing vigorously between bites.
Sal’s is more than a restaurant; it is amore through food, a truly immersive and nostalgic cultural experience. It’s a place to eat, drink and enjoy each other’s company. As you laugh violently at the eccentric monotonies of hall mates and talk warmly while filling your stomach with the warm delights of a care-filled kitchen, Sal’s feels like a second home. To their chicken Parm: you are a warm lacteous delight of my daydream that will outweigh the too-moist, occasionally raw consumption of Sadler grilled chicken.
Although not soft on the pocket, this restaurant offers good value for your money, providing plethoric portion sizes worth your penny. Sal’s enormous portions provide almost 3 meals worth. Saving you from floating back to earth for a few more days to the sterile checkered floor and degenerate oatmeal of the Sadler Dining Hall, Sal’s pasta is the hug for the homesick thousands of miles away from home.
So lovingly, I invite you home to Sal’s by Victor with your family this Family Weekend. To quote Seinfeld: “Serenity now!” Pasta now!
Dining and Cooking