Trattoria Bella-Seca

Rolled in after work in El Paso one evening.

While my penchant is towards TexMex, or, “Mexican,” Italian food sounded like a good change of pace. The problem being, I like food with a kick. Towards that end, I used to heavily favor Romeo’s in Austin, Southwestern Italian melange.

So good stuff in El Paso, the little place was strange, desolate road not far from the airport. Lost and lonely feeling, not uncommon for the apparent desert wastelands of the border. Would make an ideal tacqueria, as suites my whims.

Exhausted, I looked up, asked the waitress her birthday — Taurus — and asked about the best thing. I got a salad and some kind of chicken dish that had a spicy marinara sauce. Not a bite, but a subtle kick.

The ambience was overwhelming in a much understated way. Felt, looked, reminded me of any little place in Europe. I could’ve been transported back to off-beat trattoria in Paris, or a little place I remember, a few years back, in London. White, washed walls, simple “mediterranean” touches, and a warm, friendly server.

All good thus far.

I can’t name the dish, I know I had a salad, and fresh rolls, baked on the premises, with garlic, rosemary and olive oil in a little dish. That dipping thing. The garlic tasted like it had been toasted.

The main dish, as requested, chicken with a rich red sauce that zest and subtle zing. Not too hot, but pleasant enough.

What was stellar was the food, ambiance and excellent service.