Lasagne elegance, from the menu at Italian restaurant Bossi, on Auckland's Commerce St. Photo / Sylvie Whinray
Word on the restaurant floor was that the lasagne was SPECTACULAR.
This news sounded especially appealing delivered in an Italian accent. A multi-layered, multi-syllabled masterpiece that had survived the seasonal menu refresh and might, as per customer demand, never be removed? I had to have it.
The lasagne arrived on a banquet platter. Photos barely do it justice. The pasta-ragu-bechamel classic that is usually served as a cheese-topped wodge was cut, instead, into a long and elegant strip. In a world of clogs and jandals, this was a stiletto sandal. A Michelangelo among mortals, a lasagne far more aesthetically lovely than most.
I cut a delicate portion. I lowered it to my plate and - splat! The pasta layers peeled away like a spineless book and chunks of meat went everywhere. You can take the lasagne out of the Italian countryside, but you can’t take the countryside out of the reviewer who learned how to make lasagne in a Greymouth flat with a beer can feature wall.
The issue, I’d argue, was not my lack of silver service skills. It was the bechamel. I was relying on a cheesy, creamy, bay leaf-scented sauce to keep it all together. But instead of oozing messily from between the layers (a la Cowper St, circa 1992), the white sauce had, mostly, been spooned prettily on the plate - a bechamel workhorse, reduced to decorative show pony.
And the flavour? If you like your lasagne very cheesy this may not be for you, but oh my, that ragu. Slow-cooked, deeply savoury, herbaceous and properly meaty. The true measure of this lasagne is that, three weeks after eating it, I’m still thinking about it. Image search “lasagne” and there is the joyously messy pasta you cooked at your first dinner party; the reheatable rectangle of sustenance you find on your doorstep after funerals or surgeries. I associate lasagne with comfort and crowds. Lasagne is a hug. Bossi’s lasagne is a one-night stand that takes an espresso with a cigarette in the morning.
As visually impressive as those presentation platters are, I wonder if they ultimately do a disservice to the food. A caper-studded risotto (that came with juicy, tender and crispy-crumbed veal) was spread as a thin layer over a large surface area. The first spoonful was great. By the third, it had cooled and solidified and the rice was leaden.
Form over function? Definitely not when it comes to the beautiful fit-out, fabulous service, extensive wine list and a clientele that oozed a kind of quiet power the social media generation can only dream of. On a weeknight, diners wore suit jackets and expensive blonde highlights reflecting Bossi’s financial business district location (and, perhaps, the residents who dwell in the 57-storey apartment tower that soars above). The restaurant is all marble tables and brass accents, green velvet booths and a spectacular tiled floor, quality glassware and a curved bar with lovely solo dining seats.
If the aesthetic is a certain kind of classy “international” Italian, the menu offers that eternal Italian conundrum: Aperitivo, antipasti, insalata, contorni, primo, secondi, dolce and even a list for the bambini - what NOT to order?
I wanted to compare the polenta fries to the (IMHO) gold standard offering from Coco’s Cantina but skipped them on account of a (WTF) $19 price tag (Coco’s charges $15 and donates $1 from every order to their charity of the month - NZ Prostitutes Collective K Rd Branch, last time I checked).
Moving directly then, to the whole baby calamari ($28). Stuffed with basil, garlic, pancetta and lemon, with a little herb-flecked and buttery pan juice and a decent handful of toasted pine nuts, this was a sensationally tasty dish. Conveniently sliced and easy to share, I did so quite reluctantly. The pine nuts alone probably justified the price, but we also received two slices of the most divinely oil-soaked and crunchy-soft grilled focaccia. Just superb.
Many years ago, I bought a cookbook by Antonio Carluccio. The chef and restaurateur who was dubbed “the godfather of Italian gastronomy” is known for many things but, to me, he’ll always be the man who changed my mind about broccoli. If you’re serving it with pasta, he wrote, it should be cooked to the same texture. As someone who usually serves greens a scant degree past raw, I (arrogantly) had my doubts. Of course, he was right. Overboiled broccoli, penne and fresh-from-the-freezer pesto is now a weeknight staple; a bright green and fudgy slurry of rib-sticking comfort.
Bossi did not overboil its broccolini, but it did take it slightly further than many restaurants. There was no flashy char, no old-school almonds or new-school aioli. It was, simply, excellently seasoned, salted and (I think) olive oiled. It was bold and delicious. Broccolini as a metaphor for Bossi.
Bossi, 10 Commerce St, Auckland. Ph. (09) 948 0906
Kim Knight is a senior reporter for the New Zealand Herald and a restaurant critic for Canvas magazine. She holds a Masters in Gastronomy and in 2023 was named among New Zealand’s Top 50 most influential & inspiring women in food and drink.
by Yvonne Lorkin
The drinks lists in Italian restaurants are lists I get excited about. They can become the stuff of legend (Prego, Baduzzi, Vivace, Amano, Cotto, Farina, Lilian, Bivacco, Pasta & Cuore, Pici, NSP). Bossi is no exception. Kickstart with an Antico Negroni, a White Lotus or a classic prosecco to loosen up for lasagne. Bossi’s wines are separated into By the Glass, By the Bottle and a Corovin Selection (rare and special wines that you can pay to enjoy a taste of before they’re re-sealed under gas with this very effective preservation system). One of British comedian Joe Lycett’s favourite white wines, the Enrico Serafino Gavi di Gavi, is on this list and it’d be rude not to. As is the Cairossa Pergolia Sangiovese, a superb red wine. With no fewer than 10 Champagnes and 12 sparkles from here and abroad, fizz fans have their work cut out. Sure there are wines from New Zealand and Australia, loads of lovely (famous and pricey) sauvignon, chardonnay, pinot and shiraz, but I mean when you’re literally in Rome, why wouldn’t you experiment with a schiava from the Alto Adige, nero d’Avola from Sicily, primitivo from Puglia, the delicious J.K 14 Montepulciano from Abruzzo made by John Kirwan’s Italian family, Barbaresco from Piedmont, Armarone from Veneto, or Chianti Classico from Tuscany right? For white wine fans Bossi has more grillo, pinot grigio, pecorino, vermentino, arneis and soave than you can sling some spaghettini at. Ben fatto Bossi, ben fatto.
'It was a shock to the system, but that's part of why I said I wanted to do it.'