A Fabio to grace covers of Italian cookbooks

It wasn’t the delicious, comforting food that reminded me of late nights in Rome, nor was it the Limoncello of which I’d had a few too many sips. What really won me over at Fabio Piccolo Fiore, an Italian restaurant in Midtown, was the owner’s entrance into the dining room.

The tables were crowded, the dim lights were casting romantic flickers, and the muted conversation barely concealed the sounds of forks clinking against porcelain plates. Then, with a loud exclamation of “Bella!” and an enthusiastic slap on my back, Fabio Hakill entered the scene.

Though his appearance is quite different from that of the infamous model who shares his first name (instead of flowing blond locks, Hakill boasts short and dark curls), Hakill is just as interesting a character. The first story I heard from him was a frank discussion of his rampant youth. From nights on the town to days on the cot, Hakill’s life has been colorful, to say the least. More interesting for me, though, was the tale of his culinary career.

Hakill never planned on being a chef. In fact, he might never have entered a kitchen had his cousin not demanded his help on a busy night in the restaurant where he worked. Hakill hardly felt like going, but his cousin’s persistence beat out his doubts. Not surprisingly, he loved it.

Not long after his first night in the kitchen, Hakill got on a train from San Giovanni to Rome in order to work in the kitchen of L’Acio, under a 78-year-old chef. “He gave me a lot of experience. In return, I gave him a lot of speed. Honestly, I worked under this guy for three years, and what I learned from him I could never learn in school,” said Hakill.

His transfer to New York was almost as much of an accident as his entry into cooking. “I came to New York on vacation, and I loved it. ... I went back to Rome, I sold my car, and I rented out my house. My dream came true,” he said.

From there, after a series of parties, jobs, and struggles, Hakill created Fabio Piccolo Fiore, which offers Midtown crowds a healthy dose of hearty Italian dishes. The food at Hakill’s place the sort that puts a slightly guilty, but extremely satisfied smile on the faces of its consumers.

My dinner at Fabio Piccolo Fiore was long and languorous. The mozzarella with peppers and tomatoes was incredibly tender, crumbling in my mouth without any resistance. The crab cake was flavorful—its spices were balanced nicely with small pineapple pieces, giving it a surprisingly delicious taste.

The flavors culminated in the addictive Pasta alla Chef. The pasta itself was perfectly cooked, the four cheeses were tantalizing, and the overall dish was so indulgent and heavy that I began to contemplate the reactions I might elicit if I took a nap in my chair. Before I had a chance to nod off, Hakill excitedly proposed a sample of his gelatos.

The so-called sample turned out to be four bowls of an incredible dessert. The gelatos that we tried, which Fabio makes from scratch every day, were creative and unexpected. The rosemary was light and fragrant, and reminded me of my days as a toddler, happily munching on flowers ripped out of my grandmother’s garden.

The fig accompanying the rosemary was creamy and sweet, but stayed away from being overly flavorful. The cucumber, which induced sighs of delight from my friend, was refreshing and subtle. The Limoncello, my personal favorite, tasted exactly like freshly squeezed lemonade.

And if my descriptions of the food do not excite you, do not despair. Fabio loves his customers so much that he is willing to cook whatever they might desire. He jokes that he will give his customer anything—except for money. “I’ll do anything for my customer,” Hakill said, and I found it hard not to believe him.

Leaving the restaurant, I may have been nearly delirious from the amount of food I had consumed, but I enjoyed a kind of contentment that only comes with a genuinely “happy” meal.

Valeriya Safronova is a Columbia College first-year. West Side Flavors runs alternate Fridays.