That’s Amore

Whenever I have lunch at Terroni Adelaide, the sprawling Italian restaurant in the old York County Courthouse in downtown Toronto, I order the ciccio, a folded pizza filled with prosciutto, arugula, tomatoes, and fior di latte — a creamy type of mozzarella. “That’s served cold, you know,” the wait staff inevitably say, with knowing smirks. “Yes,” I reply. “You mention that every time I order it.”

With a baker’s dozen locations, including two outposts in Southern California, Terroni is known, at least in my circle, for having a bit of attitude. “No modifications and no substitutions,” its website warns would‑be diners — a policy that has always struck me as discordant with a Beverly Hills clientele. And pity the uninitiated rube who asks for tartar sauce with their Frittura di pesce e frutti di mare. “If you want a sauce with this, you belong to the group of people who try to order a steak well-done — you’re in the wrong restaurant and will be offered a pizza,�...