After being seated at the Ristorante Piccolo Mondo, I was immediately imbued with a senses of optimism. Its cause was not the $9 glass of house wine that I had just imbibed at the bar. Instead, it was the conversation that was coming from the table next to us.

There, bathed in candle light, was a middle aged man chatting up a beautiful woman in fluent Italian . Being an expert in these matters  - I have after all not missed a single episode of the Sopranos- I instantly deduced that it was his goombah. “Bueno, Bueno”, I thought: this place must be the real thing.

Situated on Argyle Street across from the Neptune Theatre, the Piccolo Mondo is the perfect place for a romantic encounter, be it with your wife or your mistress. Come to think of it, this might be slightly inaccurate, for the space is a touch too open for any clandestine arrangement. Although not crammed by any means, you are never too far from any prying eyes that might occupy the table next to you. Add to this the lack of any obvious partitions that would hide one from the bustling crowds, and it is probably safe to state that the restaurant is best suited only for a Pope-approved Tete-a-tete.

While on the topic of seating: should you contemplate a visit, phone ahead and reserve one of the two corner tables with sofa-style seats. Undoubtedly the most coveted tables in the restaurant, they would make an excellent place for a post dinner nap, if one were so inclined.

Couch seating or not, the Piccolo Mondo would be worth a visit even if you had to squat on the floor. Simply put, the food is that good.

Our feast started with the Fritto di Calamari al Balsamico (fried calamari tossed in Balsamic vinegar, $9). Were I born a squid, dying for this dish would have struck me as a noble way to go. I would certainly have approved of the way I was cooked to perfection: not too gummy or too dry.

Similarly, friends and family of the radicchio salad that played a staring role in our second appetizer (Insalata calda al Raddicchio)  would have been proud of his sacrifice. At $11, he certainly did not sell his life cheaply but at least his burial on a warm plate, surrounded by arugula and prosciutto,  provided a dignified and delicious send-off .

At this stage, one has to make a tough decision: should one do as the Romans and follow up the appetisers with a paste dish, then a meat course and finally a plate of fish? Are one’s stomach and wallet, respectively,  empty and full enough ?  Since in our case the answer to both questions was a resounding “No”, we chose to keep things simple (and affordable) by opting solely for the pasta course.

It has always been a crippling moral defect of mine, that whenever food arrives at a table, I almost immediately covet  my neighbour’s dish. Inevitably, it seems, their’s winds up looking and tasting better then my foolish and hasty choice. This time, however, the spell was broken.

The sacrifice I had made to Dionysius that morning must have been spot on, for with my dumpling pasta with gorgonzola cheese and truffle oil (Gnocchi al Gorgonzola e Olio di Tartufo, $18)  I had hit the jackpot. My better half enviously eyed my plate as she was downing her Manicotti stuffed with roasted chicken ( Manicotti di Pollo in Besciamella, $17). Not that there was anything wrong with her meal –quite the contrary-  but it simply paled in comparison to my fortuitous choice.

A gentleman would likely have offered to share his meal, especially if the occasion was his wedding anniversary. Fortunately for me, I am no such creature and thus defended my plate with whim and vigour.

By the time the desert menu was brought to the table, both of us were properly satiated. It did not stop us from sharing a Tiramisu, bringing the whole proceeding to a fitting and satisfying end. Luckily the bottle of wine, whose name escapes me but which, at 32 dollars, was one of the cheaper ones on offer, had made us too sluggish to worry much about the financial toll our lust had extracted. It mattered little, for as the Germans say:  “food is the orgasm of those who are married “ and as such is priceless.

To sum up: the Piccolo Mondo is a proper place to take one’s better half if the occasion demands it. For those whose disposable income is limited, visits will likely be an occasional treat. But, with its excellent service, its cozy ambiance, and -most importantly- its stunning food, it is a place that must be visited by any Haligonian with a soft spot for authentic Italian Cuisine.

Addendum: any reference to mob terminology was for entertainment purpose only. It is well known that there is no such thing as the Mafia, especially in Halifax where racketeering is left to the politician. Forgetaboutit.

 Frank Streicher is neither a food critic nor a philanderer. His wife wishes he were both. You can reach him at This email address is being protected from spam bots, you need Javascript enabled to view it