There’s something about the feeling one gets standing beneath an archway. It’s that sense of awe gazing up at a monument like the Arc de Triomphe or the Arch of Constantine. The semi-circular architecture makes something trivial, such as a “polished casual” Italian chain, seem grandiose, lofty and spacious enough to bestow gravitas.
When I walked into Il Fornaio, I didn’t feel like I was at the Colosseum, per se, but I enjoyed the arches that appeared to be endless, like a tunnel, allowing me to peer through and see the long wooden tables hosting parties of ten or fifteen. They bordered the dining room and also the chefs like a picture frame as they tossed pizza dough, about to be wood-fired.
If I looked to my right, my eyes were met with Coronado’s signature view — the one you see from above when you cross the bridge: speckled white sailboats atop a dark blue bay. Downtown San Diego was hoisted across the water, as if the clustered skyscrapers formed an island of their own. A red sailboat caught the wind and moved across the window almost in slow motion.
To my surprise, on a Wednesday evening at 5 p.m., the dining hall that occupies much of the Ferry Landing was full.
Settling in, I was immediately greeted by a man named Guido, who said he had been working there for almost three decades. Earlier that week, I spoke to Coronado High School alumni who held their reunion there every few years. I began to realize this restaurant, once a school for bakers in Italy, has formed a long relationship with this island.
Guido suggested several specialty items on the menu, including the Linguine Buranella, a thin pasta dish with clams, mussels, prawns, and scallops in a roasted cherry tomato sauce with crushed red pepper, garlic, and Trebbiano wine, which, in retrospect, would have been a more favorable order for me.
But the chicken parmesan, or Pollo Alla Parmigiana, caught my attention. (I know this is more Italian American.) It seemed to be the most filling option for my starving stomach. I ordered a glass of wine — the Sea Sun Pinot Noir — to pair with it.
It came out on a white plate. The sizable breaded breast was covered with a large blanket of gooey mozzarella and, below that, coated with parmesan. It all lay atop a bed of spaghetti and bright tomato sauce. A woman passed me and asked, “Oh, what’s that?”
Which confused me because didn’t everyone know what chicken parmesan was? But it also made me realize that the generous amount of cheese may have been unusual.
I cut into it, my knife first splitting apart the cheese, then the crusty outer layer of the chicken, then the chicken’s white meat. The mozzarella was thick, stretchy, and briny, lower in moisture compared to the springy kind you usually find on salad or pizza. I wished the crusty breaded layer was a bit more crisp. I craved a more intense crunch on the first bite.
The spaghetti was of flawless texture, tender on the outside but keeping its shape. Nothing was ingenious or needing reinvention. It’s comfort food, so it just needed to be familiar. And the chefs unabashedly did just that.
The Sea Sun Pinot Noir was, frankly, disappointing. The wine struck my palate as heavy, especially next to an already savory plate of chicken parmesan. Perhaps a brighter, fruitier wine would have suited the meal better.
The dessert offerings looked inviting: ricotta sponge cake with candied fruit and chocolate; Setteveli, a chocolate sponge cake layered with chocolate mousse, hazelnut praline and chocolate glaze; tiramisu; or gelato. Since I was too full from the meal, I hesitantly declined. Afterward, I reminded myself that I should always choose dessert.
Il Fornaio is located at 1333 First St. in Coronado. It’s open from 11 a.m. to 9:30 p.m. Sunday through Thursday, and from 11 a.m. to 10 p.m. Friday and Saturday.
