I had been in Rome for a few days and was starting to lose hope that I’d find a meal that truly stood out. Everything near the landmarks felt watered down—safe, predictable, made for tourists who wouldn’t know the difference. So I took a chance. I started walking down one of the small, vibrant streets near the Pantheon, passing menus and eyeing plates. That’s when I saw Daniel.

He wasn’t behind a podium or waving people in. He was out in the middle of the street—laughing, dancing, hugging guests, shaking hands with every table, telling people “If you don’t like it, you don’t pay.” His charisma was contagious. I asked him if he had beef tartare. It wasn’t on the menu. He looked me in the eye and said, “For you, I’ll make it.”

And he did. Beautifully.

I sat down at one of the tables lining the narrow street. The energy was electric. Servers moved confidently through the crowd. Wine glasses clinked. You could feel the buzz of a Roman evening unfolding around you. And then the food started to arrive.  Service like this was absent from our 21 day European journey.  Don’t get me wrong   There were meals with good service but these people made you feel like you were the most important guest of the week.  This was different.   And I loved it

The tartare was great. Have I had better? Yes.  But the fact he made it for me made it so much more enjoyable.  It’s was high quality Hand-chopped filet, that was immediately apparent.  The seasoned ingredients adorned around the plate for me to combine, like herbs, onion, capers and chives and a yolk in the middle. Served with a slice of freshly grilled focaccia flatbread that was perfectly cooked. Slightly crunchy and slightly chewing with a robust Roman flavor. Then came the pasta and seafood grill. I asked for pasta not on the menu to pair with my seafood.  And they nailed it.  Even though nothing like it was on the menu. No problem. What they brought out was a pasta with sauce that was so rich and flavorful, I paused after the first bite. It hit every note I had hoped for. The grilled shrimp and squid—plump, juicy, and charred to perfection. This was real cooking, made with confidence.

Daniel came back to the table and I asked “what’s for desert?” He decided, He didn’t ask or give me options. He told me. I liked that. He had the kind of presence you want from someone who actually knows what people enjoy. What he brought out was Sbricciolata alla Romana—layers of delicate pastry crumbles, thick cream, and a drizzle of warm chocolate. It looked simple, but the texture and balance made it one of the best desserts I’ve had in Italy.

Everything about the evening was unforgettable. Daniel told me the restaurant had been in his family for over 100 years. His mother worked in the kitchen for 34 of them. That tradition showed in every detail—how they treated guests, how flexible they were, and how deeply personal the food felt. This wasn’t a tourist trap. It was a living piece of Roman heritage.

If you’re near the Pantheon and want a dinner that feels like Rome—chaotic, warm, bold, delicious—find Daniel. Let him take care of you. This is the kind of place that changes your entire trip.