The former Roman osteria that became a top restaurant loved by VIPs and politicians: the story of Pierluigi

by Paolo Manfredi

I must admit, I had slightly underestimated Pierluigi. I was captivated by the tables set in one of the most beautiful squares in Rome — and thus in Italy — but I expected a place with decent food, yet not free from that slightly complacent Roman spirit that often risks stripping charm from any restaurant venture, reducing it to the age-old question: “White or red, dottò?”
Instead, this historic restaurant in the centre of Rome — where I dined for a family birthday, after missing an opportunity years ago due to Covid — is not only a beautiful spot, it’s a restaurant with solid, elegant and creative cuisine, free of unnecessary frills, where the experience is made even more enjoyable by attentive, prompt and cheerful service. It becomes quickly clear why this table in central Rome is so popular with Hollywood celebrities, well-heeled tourists, politicians and local professionals alike.

From small osteria to restaurant loved by VIPs and politicians

Pierluigi was founded in 1938, when Umberto Pierluigi — originally from Borbona, in the province of Rieti — opened a small osteria in Piazza de’ Ricci, in a Renaissance building in the heart of Rome. In the 1970s, the name was shortened to simply “Pierluigi”, and in 1980, Roberto Lisi took the reins, turning it into a spot dedicated to fresh fish — remembered by true Romans as one of the many (now dwindling) good trattorias in the city centre. Since 2010, under the guidance of his son Lorenzo, the restaurant has made a definitive leap in quality: an American-style cocktail bar was added, the dining room renovated, and an offering introduced that stays true to the original identity but has grown in sophistication — starting with a wine cellar that has expanded from 300 to 14,000 bottles, a veritable encyclopedia of fine drinking in Italy and France.

What to eat and drink at Pierluigi today

Upon arrival, a very kind hostess seated us at the American Bar, where a diligent and thoughtful barman prepared a Kir Royale using Chambord instead of the traditional crème de cassis — a flavourful and rounded surprise, perfectly paired with an amuse-bouche of creamed salt cod in a sphere of crispy bread, the perfect start before heading out to the square.

The menu is broad, mostly seafood-based with occasional forays into land and garden produce to satisfy a varied, cosmopolitan clientele, and features a significant selection of raw dishes. We ordered amberjack tartare, melon, cucumber and almond gazpacho — excellent — and one of their signature dishes, squid tagliatelle with amatriciana gazpacho: I love the Apulian-style squid tagliatelle, but here the texture of the thinly sliced raw fish is incredibly similar to real pasta, perfectly complementing the aromatic gazpacho, while a crisp slice of guanciale brings us back to the best of Roman flavours.
This starter vies for the title of best dish of the evening with the linguine with garlic and oil, wild fennel and tuna ’nduja — a burst of Mediterranean flavours that delights and uplifts — while the cod with saffron, courgette flowers, clams and braised escarole takes us back to solid foundations and the gentleness required to handle such a delicate ingredient as fish.

The final dessert and the "luxurious solidity" we so deeply need today

I’m not mad about desserts — sugar is one temptation I can resist with bearable effort — but the passion fruit cheesecake with coconut and mango ice cream strikes hidden chords with a balance and sequence of flavours that only the finest kitchens can achieve.
The prices? High, undeniably high, with significant mark-ups especially on the wine, but entirely justified by the quality and overall roundness of the experience.
In a dining scene overcrowded with self-proclaimed geniuses, Pierluigi is like that old colour TV advert — “science, not science fiction” — the kind of luxurious solidity we so badly need.