Sal’s: Good, No-nonsense Italian

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David Hungate

Sals's Italian Restaurant

For dessert at Sal’s, the berry torte came highly recommended, and lived up to expectations. Other desserts include ice creams, custards and cakes.

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David Hungate

Sals's Italian Restaurant

The bruschetta al Granchio hits the mark.

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David Hungate

Sals's Italian Restaurant

The bruschetta al Granchio hits the mark.

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4 of 5

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David Hungate

Sals's Italian Restaurant

The tasty chicken saltimbocca a Sal's is sautéed in Marsala wine and served with prosciutto, spinach, mozzarella and mushrooms over pasta with tomato sauce.

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David Hungate

Gennaro Scotto

Gennaro Scotto, son of owner Sal Scotto, is the happy and often-laughing host at Sal’s.

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If there’s a silver lining to the 80-MPH cloud that was the recent derecho storm that tore through the Mid-Atlantic – leaving residents and utility companies thoroughly gob-smacked – it’s that at least lots of people have interesting stories to tell. Lengthy power outages during the heat wave, desperate searches for ice and generators, tree limbs and shingles exchanging places… My tale, however, is perhaps one of the most harrowing to come out of the storm: It interfered with dinner!

On the way out of the house to go to Sal’s for dinner that Friday, my wife looked up to the gloaming sky and said, “Hey, do you think it looks like a storm’s coming?” I followed her gaze upward, shrugged and said, “Nah, it’s nothing. Probably won’t even rain.”

Well, at our house at least, it didn’t rain…

We were sitting comfortably at Sal’s (at Kroger square in Bonsack), enjoying a drink and that pleasant anticipation that comes with looking over the menu in a restaurant you’ve never visited, when the lights began to flicker. A moment later, a couple of leaves blew past the front window. I had just enough time to have an inward laugh at everybody overreacting to a tiny summer storm, before the place was plunged into darkness. There is nothing more fun for restaurant folks than a blackout. As long as by “fun” you mean “horrible.”

My wife and I quickly decided that the best way to help was to get out of the way, and we asked how we could go about settling our tab. Gennaro Scotto, son of the eponymous Sal, laughed (he laughs a lot), and said, “Well, the cash registers are down, so I guess we’ll have to operate on the honor system. See you again soon!”

Long story short, he did. We had been really excited about our menu choices before the lights went out, and as we dodged fallen trees along Orange Avenue, we vowed to return.

Two weeks later we were back, and we were armed with a pretty good idea of what to order, so by the time our drinks (stunt-doubles of the ones we’d had the week before) arrived, we were ready to mambo Italiano. We started off with an order of bruschetta al Granchio, which was toasted sliced Italian bread, topped with chopped tomatoes, garlic, roasted red peppers, basil, capers and fresh mozzarella cheese. A lot of places will serve bruschetta on bread that you can tell was repurposed from other missions; or on stale, crumby melba rounds. But these, well, the crisp yet soft bread could have stood on its own without any adornment. We also enjoyed a round of fried calamari. This was good, though not a standout. However, our waiter recommended a chunky, spicy fra diavlo sauce for dipping, and this really made the dish for us.

The house salads that preceded our dinners were a bit pedestrian; mostly iceberg lettuce with a bit of shredded carrots, a cherry tomato, a bit of sliced mushroom. However, our waiter again came to the rescue, recommending the sun-dried tomato and basil dressing, and let me tell you, that stuff would have made a plate of dandelions and lawn clippings taste good.

My wife loved her chicken saltimbocca, a chicken breast sautéed in Marsala wine and served with prosciutto, spinach, mozzarella and mushrooms over pasta with tomato sauce, saying that it suffered only from having a bit too much pasta to work through comfortably.

Being a good Italian boy named Tony (we’re actually Scots-Irish; if you can get my mom to tell you how I got to be named Tony, I’d love to hear the story), I went for the Homemade Meat Lasagne. I’ve got to say, I wasn’t sorry. It was as big as a toddler’s head and stuffed with savory cheese, beef, tomato sauce and spices. It was some of the best lasagne I’ve ever had, but don’t tell Mom!

It took a while for our waiter to bring the dessert menu, so we used the time to check out the atmosphere. They’ve taken a kind of  no-nonsense approach at Sal’s. Don’t expect your waiter to have a white tuxedo on, don’t expect to find an authentic gondola dangling from the ceiling. What you will find, though, are friendly and hyper-knowledgeable staff, a clean and spacious dining room, and likely as not, Gennaro wandering around the dining room and making sure everybody is having a good time.

We forgave our waiter for taking so long when he returned with the menu. Because it consisted of a big tray laden down with samples – some fake, but most real – of the eight or 10 items available. Ice creams, fruity custard dishes, cakes and tortes… Our waiter recommended a berry torte, and Gennaro seconded this, so my wife and I carried the motion unanimously. As for me, I was just too tempted by the Irish Cream Cake.

“Yeah,” Gennaro said, “But can’t we call it something else? Maybe Italian Cream?”

From the trusting way that Gennaro let us leave without paying on the night of the blackout to the way he and other folks treated us like family, they really have hospitality down pat at Sal’s. We’re hoping to be back soon, and we know we’ll always find some really good Italian eats, have a congenial host to chat with, and have a great story to tell.