Stella

Oklahoma restaurants excel at things related to meat and Marlon Brandon, I determined today, quite capably. Yesterday we lunched at Stella Modern Italian Cuisine, a gem with a small, clever menu and situated in a renovated automobile garage. And, as mentioned before, this particular Italian restaurant in Oklahoma City has a penchant for serving fine meats and inspiring diners (or maybe just my family) to groan its name in our best A Streetcar Named Desire voice.

The interior, Bouchon-like (again, apologize for self-referencing), is adorned with sketches of fine Italian architecture. The prints are hung on facades over the exposed brink. It's charming, simple, classic, but very comfortable. I ordered a delicious (perhaps more importantly, large) glass of red wine from the barbera grape that actually had a bouquet. Bouquet in wine to me had always met what you smell when your nose invades a wine glass but this wine fragrantly ornamented our table.

We were served a continuous stream of warm bread from Prairie Thunder Bakery, where we had lunched before, that's down the street. And that's olive oil with whole cloves of roasted garlic. We were tempted to eat it by the spoonful.

The parade of beautiful meat products began. First, we ordered the selection of cured meats, olives, mustard and toast. The olives were intimidatingly meaty, the chorizo (right) was flavorful and slightly spicy, and the meat at the bottom, bresola, tasted homey like Christmas, with hints of cinnamon.
I had a delicious cup of pureed asparagus, with what I guess was red pepper oil, which was refreshing but unexpectedly substantive.
My poor dad got a delicious salad of spring beans and beets (three types!), with avocado and gorgonzola cheese. He finds one fourth of those items revolting (the gorgonzola), so after its surgical removal, I think it was a bit more palatable.
Lunch was penne pasta with a simmered beef ragout. I'll note, since we weren't sure while ordering, that ragout's basic method of preparation involves slow cooking over a low heat, but there is not a requisite need for meet to have a ragout. Also, the word comes from the French ragoûter, to revive the taste (merci Wikipedia).

Aesthetically, I think my dad's pappardelle pasta with seasonal mushrooms, fresh sausage, and red wine, was a bit more visually complex. And the cheese was concentrated for easier extraction this time.
The portions, being Italian size, made dessert a more appealing option. We ordered tiramisu, which was the only minor disappointment of the afternoon. The whipped cream and marscapone were delicious, but there were no ladyfingers, only a rather stiff cake. And the cake wasn't bathed in espresso. It had a flavor of espresso, but tiramisu shouldn't deviate from its form unless those deviations create something much better. We would have been just as happy with a spoonful of olive oil instead.