By Amy Pigeon
They say the third time’s the charm, and that couldn’t have been more true than on my recent evening attempting a visit to the wildly popular Taverna Trilussa. Located in the heart of Trastevere, Rome’s most vibrant neighbourhood, this rustic haven of Italian tradition had escaped me on two previous visits to the Eternal City. This time, I dare not make the blasphemous mistake, for a third time, of not planning ahead, and secured a reservation weeks in advance to guarantee a table on a Saturday night.
Established in 1910, Taverna Trilussa has been a cornerstone of Roman dining for over a century. The restaurant is named in honour of Carlo Alberto Salustri, better known by his pen name, Trilussa—a celebrated Roman poet renowned for his satirical sonnets and fables that capture the essence of Roman life. The decor pays homage to this rich history and traditional Italian fare, with walls adorned not only with vintage photographs and paintings but also with tennis rackets left by famous players who have dined here, adding a unique sporting pride to the ambiance. At the entrance, a €300 worth of black truffles are prominently displayed, alongside mouth-watering prosciutti that hang like works of art, tantalizing with the promise of smoky, savoury richness. Understated but proud, this place treated the UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage-nominated “Italian Food” with the utmost respect to tradition and class.
As we settled in, the menu unfolded like a map of Italy’s rich culinary landscape, each dish a promise of tradition and flavour. To start, we ordered the Pitina di hailing from the Friuli Venezia Giulia region. This delicacy, traditionally crafted from lean meats such as sheep, goat, or wild game, is seasoned with salt, pepper, and wild fennel, then shaped into a ball, coated in cornmeal, and gently smoked. A deliciously balanced profile – smoky and earthy, perfectly chewy but not gritty. A beautiful start to the dinner. Alongside, the Caprese con Mozzarella di Bufala was a vibrant celebration of simplicity. The mozzarella, sourced from water buffalo milk, offered a creamy richness that paired harmoniously with the sweetness of pomodorini datterino and the depth of confit tomatoes.
To complement these starters, we selected a glass of Cesanese del Piglio Superiore DOCG Cru from Pileum. This Lazio red, crafted from the native Cesanese di Affile grape, is known for its full-bodied depth and complex profile. Notes of dark cherry and rustic undertones intertwined seamlessly with the flavours of our dishes, enhancing the smokiness of the pitina and the freshness of the caprese. The wine’s robust character set the tone for an evening steeped in classic Italian elegance—polished rusticity, with casual sophistication. Humble and refined. A seemingly contradictory set of polarities that truly summarize what the Italian sprezzatura is about.
In this harmonious pairing of food and wine, Taverna Trilussa showcased its commitment to honouring Italy’s culinary traditions while providing an experience that felt both timeless and uniquely personal. Alongside it, the Caprese con Mozzarella di Bufala glistened, with pomodorini datterino and confit tomatoes lending a hint of sweetness. It was the perfect first taste of Italy’s bounty, especially paired with a glass of Cesanese del Piglio Superiore DOCG Cru, from Pileum Winery. This Lazio red was full-bodied and deep, its dark cherry and rustic notes beautifully complementing the qualities of the starting dishes and setting the tone for an evening of classic Italian elegance.
For the main course, I chose the Tagliolini con Tartufo Nero Umbro. As it was placed in front of me, an unmistakable aroma of truffle filled the air—rich, peaty, and so full of promise that I paused for a moment to savour it before even lifting my fork. The pasta, perfectly al dente, was coated in a light and silky sauce, composed of a smooth, buttery base, “tears of the gods” (or pasta water, as our beloved Pasta Queen would call it), and a small, small amount of Parmigiano Reggiano sprinkled to add a savoury depth. Each bite infused with the deep, earthy taste of truffle. An underwhelmingly simple combination that delivers anything but an underwhelming taste – resulting in a delicate sauce that respects the truffle’s earthy notes without overpowering them.
My guest opted for the Tagliolini del Prefetto, a dish beloved by locals and visitors alike. This dish features tagliolini enveloped in a creamy rosso sauce, meticulously balanced to enhance the pasta’s delicate nature without overwhelming it. A delicate ribbon-like pasta cooked to al dente perfection, providing a tender yet firm bite, whose creamy sauce left no doubt why it had earned such a reputation.
Then came dolci—a tiramisu that, even in a city famous for it, felt like a revelation. The mascarpone cream was richer and yellower than I’d ever seen, its texture impossibly velvety. Our Editor of Design, Food & Culture one described a mushroom pasta that made them blush. Well, I perhaps dare not say how this tiramisu made me feel. The first bite was all cream and air, an exquisite balance of freshness and richness that melted into the coffee-soaked ladyfingers, a memory of espresso lingering long after the last bite. I’d never tasted anything so memorable, yet so astoundingly simple. Such a classic dish with no innovation in the presentation or build, but perhaps in fine balance of the proportions of the ingredients—or maybe it was just made with love.
To finish, we shared a bowl of fragole—sweet, sun-ripened strawberries sprinkled with a light touch of sugar, tossled in lemon juice and freshly chopped mint. A beautifully refreshing note to end a rich meal on.
Just as we thought the evening was winding down, I discovered, tucked at the back of the menu, two poems by Trilussa himself: La Libertà and Favole. They caught me off guard, much like the palates and colours of the meal and ristorante itself—unassuming at first, yet profound.
La Libertà (“Freedom”) speaks of a conversation between a cat and a bird, pondering the meaning of freedom. The bird, free to soar, is convinced that freedom lies in the sky, while the cat, bound to earth, muses that true freedom isn’t just light and air. The hungry bird may have wings, but it’s hunger, not choice, that dictates its flight. “Freedom is in my flight, my song,” the bird counters, taking off into the sky as the cat watches, reminded of the endless search for something beyond reach. The poem is a subtle reflection on freedom’s different faces, perhaps a reminder to savour life’s joys without constantly chasing the unattainable—just as we’d savoured each moment at Trilussa that evening, fully present in the flavours and the ambiance.
Song: Bella Ci Dormi by Andrea Ramolo & Kalàscima
Favole (“Fables”) is equally insightful, taking us through tales of talking beasts and princes, of wolves in suits and doves dressed in white. Each animal embodies a lesson, a reflection of ourselves hidden in their tales. “The fox is sly, the crow a fool, and we’re all children bound by rule,” Trilussa writes, revealing that we are as much the animals in these fables as the children who laugh at them. The poem hints at the eternal dance of human nature, where we find in fables the truth of our own strengths, flaws, and ambitions.
Reading Trilussa’s words, I felt an affinity to the soul of Taverna Trilussa itself—a place rooted in history, laced with a touch of irony, and a reminder of life’s simple pleasures. As we walked out into the night, I couldn’t help but feel that this restaurant, like Trilussa’s poetry, offered a little slice of Roman soul—if only you take the time to savour it.
