Olaf Growald
For over three decades, the Albanese family has been a cornerstone of Fort Worth’s fine-dining scene. Generations of local diners fondly remember the family’s string of local restaurants: Ruffino’s, Fizzi, Ciao, Red Door Bistro, among them.
The last one standing in their empire, many will argue, is their finest. Opened in 2007 by Bobby Albanese and his wife Donna, in a beautifully restored, 1935 cottage in the Monticello area, Piola is a heartfelt ode to Italian classics — the cuisine Bobby grew up on in Calabria, Italy.
Regulars swear by the restaurant’s popular lasagna, the recipe for which was passed down from Bobby’s grandmother. Other Italian staples are done exceptionally well here, from the eggplant Parm to the penne pesto to the smoked chicken fettuccine, a must-try.
Nice surprises abound: a risotto decorated with asparagus and shrimp; giant planks of lightly fried calamari, livened up with a chile-based sweet and spicy sauce; refreshing salads with colorful ingredients, like watermelon. A watermelon salad is definitely not the norm at your typical Italian restaurant.
But such has been the course for the Albanese family, stretching back to their first restaurant, Ruffino’s, opened in 1992 by Bobby and his brother, Franco, in the Forest Park space that once housed another legendary Fort Worth restaurant, Epicure on the Park. Ruffino’s 21-year run, populated by locals, passing-through celebrities and foodies before the term had even been coined, seared the family’s name into the city’s culinary scene.
“I was barely 25 years old when Ruffino’s opened, still just a kid,” Bobby says, laughing. “We were young, but we still knew what we wanted to do — offer good, authentic Italian food in a fine-dining setting. There weren’t a lot of restaurants like ours. We felt it was unique for the time.”
Over the years, the brothers expanded their culinary ventures, utilizing new cooking techniques and flavor profiles. Each of their restaurants, Ciao, Fizzi, Red Door Bistro, Ruffino’s, Picchi Pacchi, offered distinctive interpretations of Italian and American classics in unique settings, foreshadowing the multi-concept approach of contemporary restaurateurs like Felipe Armenta, Tim Love, and Marcus Paslay.
Sometimes the restaurants worked in tandem, one feeding off the other. When Ciao closed, for instance, the American fare-driven Fizzi inherited many of Ciao’s Italian dishes. “We would sometimes switch things up,” Bobby says. “One dish might work in one restaurant while it doesn’t work in another. With different restaurants, we had a lot of room to experiment.” (Picchi Pacchi remains open but is no longer owned by Bobby.)
Tragically, Franco was involved in a swimming incident in 2003 that permanently disabled him, leaving Bobby to take the reins of the family’s restaurants.
Out of that tragedy, Bobby began to realize the significant role he and Franco and their family played in the city’s culinary circles.
“To this day, I still can’t believe the outpouring of support Franco and our family received, it was incredible,” Bobby says. “There was a fundraiser for him, and I remember there were four Fort Worth mayors there, past and present. People still call the restaurant and ask how he’s doing. I think to myself, wow, all this love, all this support, this is really home.”
Piola Italian Restaurant & Garden
3700 Mattison Ave.
