Americatus, The Beautiful

IN THE TWILIGHT, I find myself walking down Larimer toward a place that makes me feel as though I am coming home. A string of twinkling lights beckons me as I crunch and shiver my way down the icy sidewalk toward the door which, when opened, leads to a place where a state of culinary grace awaits.

From the doorway, I survey the space. I am relieved to see that although simplicity rules, there’s still a level of sophistication inside; two community tables line the center of the dining room and if those tables could speak, they would tell of rich conversations and unexpected bonds formed between unsuspecting guests.

Greeted by none other than the owner himself, Iain Chisholm, I feel like an old friend who has been away and one whose return has been patiently awaited. That is only part of the beauty at Americatus New-World Italian.

Taking a seat at an intimate table along the wall with my guest, I quickly find the other part of the magic. A menu so seemingly small and simple, but so uniquely complex that diners don’t feel threatened or intimidated when ordering. You can munch your way through a combination of meats and cheeses, order a multitude of small plates and bites to share, or you can be selfish and opt for a single and solitary entrée item.

I choose a combination of all but the latter to start my meal, and get blown away by a parade of ingredients ingeniously conceived, masterfully executed, and artfully plated. By the end of round one, I am both completely full and also impatiently awaiting my next course.

What comes next blows my mind in its simplicity and depth of flavor. Described on the menu as “Sausage” is a pasta dish with perfectly-cooked, house-made egg noodles, house-made sweet Italian sausage, red sauce, and pecorino, served alongside my second glass of Malbec — the dish is simply off the chart, and that’s not just the wine speaking.

At this point in the meal, I have stopped trying to analyze the food and what makes this place so remarkable, and just submit. The dessert course follows: a bread pudding made of daily house- made doughnuts and topped with a crème anglaise, and instead of scrutinizing the flavors in my mouth I just enjoy every bite. And just like that, the plate is empty and the party in my mouth is over. But I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to leave. I want to start the meal from the top, perform a rousing encore, and just sit back while savoring every bite. But alas, I cannot.

I leave my table with a final look back, and exit the restaurant when the meal is truly over. The twinkling lights fade as I walk back down Larimer, snow continues to crunch under my feet, and a warm sensation settles in my stomach. I smile knowing I can always come home to Americatus, and it will always be waiting for me.