Restaurant Review: Tanti Luce 221 Restaurant and Bar

And then there was Luce

By: Susan Meadows
Published online: Friday, October 05, 2012
Appeared in: Pasateimpo

The new kid on the block has attitude. In April, Tanti Luce 221 Restaurant and Bar moved into the century- old adobe formerly occupied by Periscope, Julian’s, and lastly, Amavi. On its website it’s described as “a bit of Greenwich Village in Santa Fe.”

The bar menu declares that the mojito is made with “freshly spanked mint” and that despite the chipotle, Southwest deviled eggs are “not hot; don’t be a sissy.” But owner Rick Smith, a former Manhattan CEO via Albuquerque; general manager Missy Auge, an ex-New York fashion model from Belen; and chef Tom Kerpon, a Santa Fe veteran of the Inn of the Anasazi and the Río Chama Steakhouse are just having fun. And fun is a defining trait here. Kerpon mingles with diners and offers an unusual ingredient for making his authentic- tasting duck confit: a bottle of wine. “It’s not for the duck,” he declares. “It’s for me!”

The now luminous all-white and open dining room wraps around a free-standing kiva fireplace. Options are as plentiful as the light (luce in Italian): there are small plates, salads, and traditional mains in the dining room, or choose from these and/or the more playful menu in the tucked-away bar.

This is refined country cooking from my dream country: part France, part Italy, and part Spain-ta-Fe with a dash of Gulf Coast meets Southwest from Kerpon’s past in Texas — but all in the most natural way. I thought, of course, oysters Rockefeller should have a flame-roasted chile and red pepper undertow! Fingers of ultratender calamari mantle and tail-on shrimp seemed like small fry in the star presence of blue-corn crusted oysters as part of the fritto misto. Likewise, the lemon-coriander aioli attracted everything on my fork with an irresistible pull, upstaging the marinara-style dipping sauce.

The crisp-skinned duck leg confit rides in with half a handsome duck breast (generosity is a theme) cooked perfectly to order, sliced, and resting in a deep-flavored jus beside a hillock of white beans stewed with carrots and slivers of salty bacon —- a sort of deconstructed cassoulet. The flawless “Tuscan” halibut roasted and balanced on a bed of rice and spinach with a scattering of herbs, fresh artichoke leaves, and dried tomatoes is, for good reason, a popular dish according to our server.

A bottle of Comte Lafon chardonnay from Macon proved both good value and a boon companion to our meals, but a covey of young women twittering at the next table over the signature cocktails hardened my resolve to spend an evening in the bar. I already liked the attitude. What may be the most charming bar in Santa Fe also boasts perhaps the most affable bartender and some of the best cocktails: the house special “Luce” and Manhattan are both as smooth as Betty Draper’s cheek and as complex as her ex. Heady drinks like these require landing gear, so try the braised pork belly that defines the genre and gamy rosemary-skewered meatballs with arrabbiata sauce, both from the bar menu. These prompted a further exploration of Kerpon’s skilled hand with red meat (remember his steakhouse past?). The buffalo short ribs braised in Barolo fell apart under a fork, perfumed and moist. The tang of the Gorgonzola crust enhanced a petite filet, nearly as tender though wanting a bit more char. Potatoes mashed with butter and garlic and fresh bright greens or asparagus balanced them. As for the desserts, try the cheesecake and the side of house mango sorbet. The chocolate “madness” cake is a necessity, and you can’t lose with the intensely fruity trio of house sorbets. The California and French pinot noirs offered by the glass are good, very different, and true to their type (I preferred the French). Kerpon isn’t trying to invent a new cuisine; he expertly combines and executes a handful of venerable ones whose riches have yet to be exhausted. And face it: Santa Fe’s fine- dining scene can always use some extra sass.