If you take a hike along Orange Avenue from Hotel del Coronado to the Ferry Landing, you’ll find a whole lot of restaurants that skew more toward commercial than characterful. Coronado’s food scene is a unique one. Because many of its customers are out of towners, most of its restaurants are concentrated along about 1.7 miles of Orange Avenue, many fighting for foot traffic from local hotels.
Take The Henry, owned by Fox Restaurant Concepts. Its parent company? The Cheesecake Factory. Just next door is The Brigantine Seafood and Oyster Bar, one of eight others. Blue Bridge Hospitality owns Little Frenchie, MooTime Creamery, Village Pizzeria and is in the process of opening The Avenue Fish and Oyster Company.
I lived for a time in Japan, where it’s easy to stumble into a restaurant with a grandmother making her specialty ramen, passed down through generations. It is also easy to sit at a bar and have a drink with the owner while listening to his jazz collection on vinyl. In the U.S., the pickings for this mom-and-pop atmosphere are slim; in Coronado, they’re even slimmer.
So when I walked into Rosemary Trattoria, I expected more of the same: a restaurant owned by a distant group or an absentee owner who never sets foot in the dining room. Instead, I let out a sigh of relief when the server, Nico, told me, “Yes, the owner is cooking in the back.”
He added that the owner is his father, and that Rosemary Trattoria is run by his parents, him, and his two brothers, all from Mexico City — though in practice, his brothers and mom were usually occupied with other things. His father, Alex Martinez, comes in every night to cook. “It’s just him and one other guy back there,” Nico said.
Martinez, according to Nico, had owned several restaurants before. This one used to be Mexican but turned Italian when the family realized there was more demand for Italian food in Coronado. Before opening his restaurants, the elder Martinez attended the Culinary Institute of America in New York and later traveled to Italy to understand the cuisine.
I was comforted by these facts, but it didn’t put an automatic halo on my critique. I ordered Nico’s recommendation, the Alla Vodka.
And perhaps this dish is known to be reliable, but still, I was impressed. The tomatoes collided with the cream in a way that beguiled me. What stood out most, however, was the penne — slightly al dente yet chewy enough to grasp the sauce. According to Nico, it was sourced from Assenti’s Pasta, a handmade supplier in Little Italy. Bits of bacon peeked out, introducing a new texture and a savory aspect. When I took a spoonful, there was an outpouring of sweet, creamy tomato onto my tongue. The temperature told me it was fresh off the stove, but not so hot that it burned my tastebuds, and thankfully not cold, something I had been disappointed in at my last Italian restaurant in Little Italy.
As I ate, I scanned the room. The decor was undeniably tacky and not particularly Italian. A colorful bull painting hung above the bar, more reminiscent of Spain than rustic Italy. Nico even looked embarrassed, noting that much of it still reflected the previous restaurant. Christmas lights and ornaments clung to the windows and walls, despite it being mid-January. A hodgepodge of furniture and decor filled every corner of the space. And while I initially judged their eclectic taste in design, I realized it reflected the family itself — perhaps a collection of mementos carried over from their many years together. For me, it stood in contrast to the impersonal designs typical of large restaurant groups.
I did, however, see that nearly every table had ordered the chicken piccata. So, naturally, I ordered it too. It came modishly presented, simple: Capers, butter, garlic, salt, pepper. I took a bite of the chicken and it was moist and finely cut, as chicken piccata should be, but something was slightly off. I don’t think it was the fault of the cooking — rather, the freshness or quality of the chicken itself. Freshness, after all, is a difficult line to teeter on. The capers scattered around the dish adding an umami and briny punch, and the lemon lightened up the creaminess of the butter. I twirled the fettuccine around my fork to get a full bite of the pasta. The butter coated the pasta, but not generously and I wished I could taste it more. But I still enjoyed it, often going back to the Alla Vodka.
For dessert, I always test an Italian menu with tiramisu. I felt rebellious indulging on a Wednesday night, but wow! The mascarpone was light and airy, yet dense enough to linger on my tongue. The ladyfingers were soft but held their shape, not mushy. As an espresso lover, I wished the coffee flavor was stronger. But warm chocolate sauce drizzled on top added a rich finishing touch. The next day I craved it again.
Rosemary Trattoria is located at 120 Orange Ave., Coronado, California 92118. It is open Thursday, Tuesday and Wednesday from 2 to 8:30 p.m., Friday from 2 to 9 p.m., Saturday from 11 a.m. to 9 p.m., and Sunday from 11 a.m. to 8:30 p.m.
