“Every time we fly out of Mexico City Airport, I want to arrive the day before and have dinner at Il Fiorino.”

Don Day’s Wife said that to me last week. And, when I pointed out to her that the cost of the hotel would add another two or three thousand pesos to the cost of the dinner, she answered me with the single word, “so”.

She obviously loves Il Fiorino. And so do I. We discovered it one night a couple of years ago. We were taking in some sights in the capital for a few days before heading back to Toronto and, on this particular night, cats and dogs were pouring from the sky. I volunteered to venture across the street to this Argentinean rincon for some takeout and, on the way, I was lured by an intriguing blackboard. It read “Pasta Fresca” and, below that, “Verdadura Cocina Italiana”.

I looked through the glass doors and spotted this balding and bearded guy (extremely easy for me to relate to) in a black chef’s jacket. I wandered in and asked him something semi-sarcastic like what made his Italian food more authentic. He handed me a handwritten piece of paper with the night’s specials. I saw words like trufa, alcachofas, burrata, guanciale, hongos sylvestres, queso de oveja, porcini, nera, pulpo, trufa (a second time). I asked if he had room for four in about ten minutes. His head bobbed up and down. I phoned Don Day’s Wife and our friends, Rich and Lorain, and told them to get their bums down there. Pronto.

There was so much on that specials menu that we wanted to try, I asked the chef if he would serve us nello stile del famiglia, placing just one or two orders of the dishes that we chose in the middle of the table to share. 

“Like we do in Italy?, he answered. “Of course.”

In ten words or less…OK, in eleven words…we had one of the most memorable meals of our lives.

We were back at Il Fiorino again last week. Again with a couple of friends, this time Marshall and Sherry. I messaged the chef, Fernando Forni by name, and asked if he’d do a repeat performance of family style serving with a few courses. This time I asked him to pick all of the dishes.

We ordered a bottle of Sicilian Grillo and counted the minutes for the first plate to arrive. I was hoping it would be carpaccio. It was. Razor-thin slices of filet, some very young arugula and some quite old Parmesan. So moist, so fresh, so delicious.

We talked about what Chef Fernando would bring next (he is out on the floor almost as much as he is in the kitchen), guessing it probably wouldn’t be prosciutto, as that was a tiny bit repetitive with the beef.

We were wrong and so happy we were. The only thing really repetitive were the sweet cherry tomatoes that were more for decoration on the first course but an essential part of the second. Buried below the slices of totally air-cured pork was a full round of burrata and on the sides were something that has disappeared from Italian menus in recent years, something I love, baby artichoke hearts.

The white Grillo was now gone and I had a strong suspicion that what would be coming next would call for a red. Il Fiorino’s house red is a cheap (330 pesos for 500 ml) and cheerful Montelpuciano that helped us stay under our $2000 a couple budget.

Fernando was back at our table delivering the wine and still talking with his hands while pouring it. What do I say about Fernando? Other than he’s a “character”. He doesn’t just talk about his food, he orates, he exhortates.

What he told us about the next dish was a big surprise to me. It was a pappardelle with lamb ragu and what he said was actually a warning. Did we have a nut allergy, for the pasta had been made with almond flour. Almond flour? I thought that was just for those gluten freebies.

I twirled a strand around my fork and rolled it in the gravy. There was less chew than the usual wide noodle…Don Day’s Wife liked that. It was as eggy as any I’d had…I liked that. The taste was wonderful…we both liked that.

The chef had mentioned that there would be a risotto in our feast and it was one we’d had before at Il Fiorino. But I couldn’t remember anywhere else.

Italian risottos are usually uncomplicated. Often simply with chicken stock and parmesan. Perhaps also with porcini. Sometimes with some sausage. Fernando Forni took ours up another notch. By topping it with a rich osso buco, he paired two of Italy’s greatest creations on one plate.

I went up to the kitchen doorway to praise the kitchen staff, to tell Fernando that our stomachs were being stretched. That we needed to proceed directly to dessert.

I realized I knew so little about the chef other than that he ran this rickety little hole-in-the-wall in Roma Norte. I did know that he had a Mexican wife and presumed that’s what brought him to Roma Norte in the first place. I knew that it was somewhat apropos because he had originally come from north of Rome but a long way north. “A little place somewhere near Venezia”, he told me.

“You’ve never had our ganache, have you?” said the chef as I headed back to our table. “You have to have the ganache.”

“And do you have any of that Sicilian Muscat?”, I asked.

“Zibbibo”, he replied, making me think how many other Italian chefs would even know what the dessert wine was called. “Four glasses?”

Fernando brought the dessert. But it wasn’t a ganache, it was a panna cotta. A beautifully decorated panna cotta. But not the dessert he had promised.

He apologized. Profusely. But, as he told us that his mistake was on the house and the ganache was still to come, I couldn’t help but wonder was he just being an extraordinary restauranteur.

The promised chocolate ganache soon followed. Looking and tasting just as good as the panna cotta.

The bill arrived. Handwritten as before. Almost impossible to itemize just as before. But the total, as before, incredibly reasonable for such a feast. Particularly considering that the four of us are thirsty eaters and had consumed a bottle of white, three half litres of red and a round of digestifs.

Fernando Forni followed us out of Il Fiorino’s double doors as we exited, still talking as much with his arms as his tongue.

We all gave the chef our final compliments. Three of us told him we would try to return. Don Day’s Wife gave him a farewell hug and told Fernando we would definitely return. The very next time we’re in Mexico City.

Il Fiorino is located at Medellín 224 in Mexico City, Mexico. The restaurant is open from Wednesday to Saturday from 1:00 to 10:00 pm, Sunday and Monday from 1:00 to 6:30 pm.