Scampo

Shire raises the bar—incidentally, behind them

By CHRISTINE LIU

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Since its much-anticipated opening this past April, joining Alibi and Clink to successfully complete the Liberty Hotel's food-drink-nightlife triumvirate, Scampo (cleverly read as both "prawn" in English and "escape" in Italian) has arguably risen to the top of the three as the most successful to bridge its previous life as a city prison to its current state as a fine institution for food. A pane of bulletproof glass meets a dramatic stalactite chandelier; huge modernist copper pendant lamps cast light on vintage anti-crime propaganda. With award-studded Boston chef Lydia Shire at the helm—of Biba, Pignoli, Locke-Ober and, most recently, Blue Sky on York Beach—there should be nothing but great expectations at this table.

Surely, warmth awaits beyond the arrestingly extensive wall of wine bottles that greets you at the entrance. A sea of four-tops, cozy corner banquettes and an expansive U-shaped bar anchor the spacious, but intimately designed, room. For my money, the best seat in the house belongs to one of the seven that perch alongside the exposed chefs' station in the rear, where only a sneeze guard stands between you and the efficient, white-clad cooks lowering skewered scallops deep into the central tandoor oven, meticulously assembling salads of ultra-fresh mozzarella and plating yet another treacherously rich block of tiramisu. A grand copper hood suspends overhead, capping the bustle of activity, while the wood oven in the back—converting hand-pulled dough to blistery crusts—glows with comforting insistence.

The altar-like attention to the two stoves may be the best guide (i.e., don't miss the breads) for navigating the menu, which is quite extensive, a bit confusingly categorized and delivered in unexpectedly poor format. Perhaps it may be chalked up to "we're still working things out," but the menu comes as a folded, laminated sheet and the not-so-modest wine list comes as seven sheets of paper seemingly printed straight out of a Microsoft Word document and stapled at the corner. Seriously weird, and although the medium was mildly distracting, its contents soon riveted my attention back into focus.

A stellar snack would consist of one of the oven productions—a transcontinental journey from naan to focaccia, from curried chicken roti to lobster pizza—and a suitable libation (wine recommended over the inconsistent cocktails). Is arched food the new thing after vertical and deconstructed plates? The dramatically shaped Elephant Ear Walking ($8) weaves a square wave of thin crust topped with rich tomato sauce, mozzarella and fried basil for a futuristically familiar spin on pizza margherita. And a bread crisp alongside two thick, garlicky steaks of portobello ($8) also formed an admirable backbend.

Housemade mozzarella, of which there are six plating variations, as well as two burrata specialties, holds the fascinating texture between solid and soft, plump and yielding, curiously reminiscent of fresh tofu. Two pale slabs, juxtaposed stunningly against slivers of prosciutto and figs ($14), unfold a fascinating experiment of bland, savory texture against densely flavorful elements.

Housemade (notice a theme here?) pasta proves ambitious, and the pappardelle ($19) weaves itself, a bit stickily so, alongside scarlet beet-rich sauce—white clothes, beware—and best-bites-of-the-plate shredded short rib. Kurobuta pork chop ($29), pinkishly medium-rare as the chef recommends for this artisan meat, is respectable but unconvincingly transformative, accompanied by a sculpturally unbalanced (though tasty) onion tart with a too-thin shell for a too-laden caramelized filling. Blissfully, another tart—one of the chocolate variety ($9)—is righteously decadent, each forkful colliding with small piles of toffee and chantilly crème on the plate before it melts on the tongue.

Encouragingly, the dining room is filled with lively diversity—families, older couples, foodies and the requisite attractive young scenesters. Despite the pedigree in the kitchen, consider Scampo an open invitation to witness (literally) the attention to detail, a bevy of scrupulous ingredients, the ethereal texture of warm bread that would be impossible (or frowned upon by the fire marshal) in one's own kitchen. We'll consider that a steal.

Rating: ****

***** Missing this would be a crime

**** Successful breakout

*** Barely legal

** Prisoner's dilemma

* There oughta be a law

SCAMPO

AT THE LIBERTY HOTEL

215 CHARLES ST., BEACON HILL, BOSTON

617.536.2100

LIBERTYHOTEL.COM

LUNCH: 11:30AM-2:30PM DAILY

DINNER: SUN-WED 5:30PM-10PM (BAR UNTIL 11PM), THU-SAT 5:30PM-11PM (BAR UNTIL 12AM)