Scopa the Chef in Cheongdam
I had an epiphany of a kind while I was on vacation. The truth is that Seoul has a lot of faults — people here are under a lot of stress. They’re tired, overworked and dogged by crowds, smog and a competitive, comparative culture. Seoul, in my opinion, is getting meaner. And sometimes it is hard not to get meaner with it.
But a lot of other things are happening in this city as well, especially on the food scene. Things are changing fast. For example, at some point between now and the last time I was in Europe, without my realizing it, Seoul learned how to make better coffee than most European (Italy excluded, obviously) cafes. I can get more authentic American southern barbecue and Mexican food just up the road from my house than my fellow Texan friend can get in the UK. We’re still all waiting on bread and cheese to catch up, obviously, but I have faith that it will come.
I also get to have amazing, cheap Korean food, to boot.
Italian food in Seoul, though. We still all avoid it for the most part, right?
Last night, when my friend and I were trying to decide where to go for our first official Ajummas Who Lunch Friday, I started out by saying, “Now bear with me, because I’m about to suggest an Italian restaurant…”
One quick ping on Kakao with a link to the website, though, and she was sold.
Santino Sortino first came to Korea in 2002 for the World Cup. While in town for the games, he tried and failed to find a satisfying example of his native cuisine. Four years later, he opened his first restaurant in Itaewon, swiftly followed by a second and a dessert cafe (La Bocca), at which his uncle became the head pasticciere. The first two restaurants have closed, but La Bocca remains, and Sortino now has a restaurant in Sinsa-dong (Grano) and one in Cheongdam-dong (Scopa the Chef), a second version of which recently opened in Itaewon.
After seeing rave review after rave review in Korean food magazines the last few months, I decided it was time to try Scopa in Cheongdam.
There was only one other table occupied in the restaurant when we arrived (this being one of the two founding principal of AWL Fridays — avoid the crowds, eat everything). Now, if there’s one thing I noticed while I was on vacation and meeting up with my European and American friends, it’s that I’ve somehow gleefully adapted to Korea’s food sharing culture — you can easily double or triple the amount of dishes you get to try, if you play your cards right. Luckily, my partner in crime feels the same way.
I’m going to go ahead and apologize for my terrible menu photos. When you’re looking at the menu, the server is usually lurking in the background, keeping an eye on you, and for some reason, I feel like a big weirdo photographing the menu, so I make it as quick as possible.
We settled on one starter, two pasta dishes and a pizza (the server seemed somewhat goosey about explaining that day’s secondo specials, although we were speaking Korean, and the ambiguous “market price” was somewhat intimidating in light of the amount of money we already knew we were going to spend). I was a bit nervous, as I always am in a restaurant run or owned by Italians since I first visited Italy, because Italians generally expect you to order something for every single course — and not to share. Italy was a constant battle with jean zippers and remaining upright, not to mention bank statements. When we ordered, however, the server informed us that we had ordered “…a lot”, and that we could have the leftovers wrapped up to take home if we needed to. Today was his day to learn.
We went with the petto di anatra for our antipasti — “Won-ju duck marinated in roasted fennel seed and aromatic herbs, quickly pan seared thinly sliced carpaccio style, fresh Umbria black truffle pesto, lemon juice and Arke orange infused extra virgin olive oil”. That’s a lot of stuff. What was left off the list were the micro-greens, the Grana Padano and the sun-dried tomatoes, which ended up being an operative ingredient in the dish.
Between the fennel seed, the black truffle and the orange infusion, the aromatics of the dish were fairly overpowering, creating an almost mint-like tingly effect. What we noticed (both of us nearly simultaneously) was that a bite of the dish without the tomato and one with it tasted completely different. Without, the duck was more astringent and plucky, sending a little zing up through the nasal cavity. But the sweetness of the tomato helped to tone down the more overwhelming flavors, giving the duck more balance. Neither was a bad taste — it was just somewhat puzzling to notice the stark difference.
Our first pasta was the big hit of the day. Panna tartufato — “Panccheri pasta with fresh thyme herb infused cream, Fontina and Parmigiano cheese, sliced Jeju asparagus, housemade pancetta and Chef’s special black truffle pesto sauce”. The sauce was thick and sinful, the pasta was perfectly al dente and the spicing was judicious. Our only complaints were skimpiness with the pancetta and asparagus — I didn’t even get to taste the pancetta! But as my companion put it, “I’m kind of glad we don’t have a bread basket on the table, or I might be tempted to shamefully sob up the sauce.” I did catch her dipping her pizza crust later on…
We couldn’t tell at first if the second pasta was a let-down because it was, or because it came after the second pasta. In the end, we decided it just wasn’t our style. Ragu di tre carne — “3 meat ragu of coarse ground Won-ju duck, Gangwon-do beef, Jeju-do black pork, simmered 4 hours in porcini mushrooms and fresh sage, white wine, tomato splash cream touch”. I’m not sure what that last part means, but I’m guessing if we’d paid a little more attention, we’d have realized this wasn’t going to be the rich meat sauce we were expecting. The white wine made it light and sweet. It wasn’t bad — it was just different than what we anticipated. Nonetheless, it would be a great dish for someone looking for something a little less heavy.
As a side note, it was around this time that we began to realize we were slowly being flooded with forks. I get changing the silverware after each course, but it seemed that we were silently accumulating a small army’s worth — two would appear on our napkins each time a course was cleared, and then two more would be placed on the rim of each new dish as it was brought to the table. We must have gone through nearly 30, all told. At one point, I went to cut my pasta only to realize I was holding two forks instead of my knife.
Pizza, baby. This is getting really long so I’m going to try to wrap it. Mangia carne — “Housemade Jejudo black pork Italian sausage, prosciutto cotto, provolone cheese, basil and tomato sauce”. I made the call on this one, because I had to have that sausage. It was lovely, and the crust was one of the best I’ve ever had — so light that some of the bubbles in the dough had actually burst in the oven. The sauce was just right — not too bitter or too sweet. The basil was a little burny — big deal.
Sortino talks a lot about how he won’t compromise on tradition, which is a typically Italian view — one that I think is probably difficult to maintain while living and cooking in Korea. Some of the reviews I read in Korean were pretty scathing — the food is too salty, too 진하다, how can the kids eat it? (Who is taking their kids to eat 30,000 won pasta, is what I’d like to know). The food isn’t made for Korean kids, but to say it isn’t made for Koreans would be a mistake. If Sortino wanted to cook Italian food for foreigners, he could have stayed home. Instead, he does what all good foreigners do: he takes the good parts of Korea (Jeju black pork, in particular) and combines thme with what he knows is good from his home country to make magic happen.
Scopa the Chef
서울특별시 강남구 도산대로89길 13
Monday-Sunday 12-3pm, 5:30pm-12am
