Paradise

This review is from Restaurant Fiction’s archives. It was first published in April of 1953.

When one has become accustomed to Mama Leone’s types of Italian joints with their spaghetti and meatballs, it’s refreshing when an Italian restaurant that’s region-specific wants to make a grand yet subtle entrance in the New Jersey food scene.

Welcome to Paradise. Literally. A two-brother owned and operated joint off exit 93 that puts their blood, sweat, and tears into bringing the best of Southern Italy’s Abruzzo region to this part of the US.

Half frozen red sirloin drizzled with olive oil, lemon, and a sprinkle of arugula makes up a simple carpaccio. The softer buffalo mozzarella lets the basil and tomato have their own intimate relationship without being too needy in the Caprese salad. The minestrone is not a trope when done right. Green risotto, a mix of parsley, peas, and pancetta, white risotto, white truffles with butter, white wine, and parm, and red risotto, tomatoes blended with chopped clams, mussels, and squid represent the Italian flag quite well.

Timpano is not only the starch but the dish. The coup de grâce. A dough formed like a timpani drum filled with salami, meatballs, mozzarella, tomatoes, hardboiled eggs, and hand-rolled garganelli.

Vegetables are roasted asparagus with Sorrento lemons, beet salad with sage, vinegar, and olive oil, meaty and tender artichokes, a potato tart, and sautéed broccoli.

Trout is the roasted fish. The whole suckling pig is simple and succulent indeed. Desserts are the oldest and easiest recipes never to be messed with: coffee, cigarettes, and a wee bit of Amaro.

Falling asleep at the table in restaurants is not polite in most cases, but inside Paradise, it’s the highest of all compliments.