For a second Valentine’s dinner, Rob took me to Cascina Spinasse. An Italian trattoria specializing in food from the Piedmont region of Italy, located on 14th on Seattle’s Capitol Hill with an unassuming storefront.
We were 45 minutes early for our 6:30 reservation but thought we’d go in anyway and sure enough we were the first people for the evening. The décor is simple an unassuming - one marble four-top with the rest of the dining area at communal tables. We however opted to sit at the butcher block bar so that we could peer into the kitchen. Much like a voyeur, I like to watch the kitchen in action especially as they’re readying for the rush to come.
The menu outlined in courses, Rob and I had a difficult time choosing what to eat for what course. Our server assisted with suggestions on how to plan our meal. To get us started, we were served crostini spread with whipped lardo and topped with what tasted to be a julienne of dry-cured olives.
First, the antipasti - Prosciutto di Parma – Pio Tosoni prosciutto with oil poached baby artichokes. Tender, salty goodness. What can I say, cured pigs are tasty. We selected two primi - Caramelle di ricotta – caramelle is a pasta that is shaped like a piece of fresh caramel candy with ricotta as the candy and the pasta wrapped around it and twisted like the waxed paper wrapper, topped with a sage leaf and toasted walnut oil; the other was a ravioli made from the thinnest sheet of pasta filled with hedgehog mushrooms served in truffle butter, truly decadent. Secondi - Stracotto di coniglio –falling off the bone goodness. I’m not sure how they were even able to remove it from the pan! The rabbit was moist and succulent after being braised in red wine with pancetta, prunes and these little olives that added a great deal of rich flavor but not salt. To go along with the rabbit, we ordered roasted parsnips as the contorni. These were a smart addition as they helped cut some of the richness of the rabbit.

Even with half orders of the antipasti and primi, I’m stuffed and our server brings out the dolci menu, “there’s always room for dessert” he says slyly and walks away. We look; we order; we eat. A semi-freddo Gianduja – a large oblong serving of chocolate-hazelnut ice cream served with slightly whipped cream and chunks of thin chocolate hazelnut bark. Now overly full, we rolled down the street to home to collapse in a food coma. A romantic night indeed.