Hidden behind Campo de' Fiori is a hotel capable of fusing the craftsmanship of old Roman blacksmiths and the stage presence of the 1930s New York metropolis. Inside, Campocori: the sign that is winning over Romans (and others) with cuisine that is both bold and accessible. Our tour to discover the Chapter.
Room photos by Giulia Venanzi and Paola Pansini
The City of Rome is chock-full of "combed" hotels with their lobbies bathed in religious church-effect silence, old-style buffets and belvedere included in the package. You'll find as many as you like thanks to the usual scroll down of Booking and then, perhaps, if you're not the type for bundled-up stays, you'll go back to drinking your reflective herbal tea hoping to magically see something else appear on the screen. Exceptions are rare and require at least a double check, for while "going for a classic" is still easy, testing an atypical hotel means wading into uncharted waters for a city stubbornly clinging to its historicity. Yet sometimes, among the sights and relics, the right little place is nestled.
Largo Argentina area, a few steps from Campo de' Fiori and a fifteen-minute tourist gait to capture the big fountains of Piazza Navona: here, among the enjoyment destinations of the old Jewish ghetto, Chapter plays hide-and-seek, a container of everything you wouldn't expect to find in a lodging establishment on the edge of the Rione Sant'Angelo. Translated, it means rooms with private mini-cocktail bars, rooms saturated with pleasantly irreverent artwork (from statues to graffiti) and international groups of guests gathered nonchalantly smartworking in the communal lounge.
It also signifies the scaffolding of Tristan du Plessis, an interior designer capable of fusing the unthinkable: the craftsmanship of the old Roman blacksmiths (“calderari”, once active in the street of the same name from which the boutique hotel is accessed) and the stage presence of the rampant metropolis of 1930s New York, split halfway between strong bronze and caressing velvets. A premise that, however, is not enough to explain the constant flow of young people on an evening pilgrimage, where the in-house restaurant- Campocori-has seen a curiously low average age list of regulars grow in just two years.
The credit goes, in all likelihood, to the upgrade of chef Alessandro Pietropaoli, who since 2022 has been pushing on the accelerator of a machine potentially bent on surpassing initial goals. Allow us, then, a quick turnaround: before scampering through the suites, we will enter what Alessandro himself hesitates to call a gourmet tour court: “Because the ambition is there, but we don't want to sew a label on ourselves.”
The Campocori Restaurant
At the entrance it will be all a ping-pong of opposites between team and space, faces and volumes. On one side are the slyly grinning female blow-ups by photographer Haris Nukem, the dark wood paneling, marble tables, and stark, bare bricks on the walls; on the other are the guest courtesies of a team that is well aware of when to snap into an acrobatic spurt or pull the brake for a handful of minutes, ready to satiate as much the cognitive appetite of the away admirer as the desire for intimacy of the reserved couple.
A message launched at the debut by hospitality pioneer Marco Cilia (owner of the facility) and the Chapter's General Manager, Jacopo Arosio, as well as conveyed as we go along to a cohesive reinforcement group headed by Campocori's Restaurant Manager, Sean Mac Donald. Reflexively, the pairing lends itself to multifaceted needs, moving in the space of a sip from the “emotional” Josko Gravner to the fruity twist on Old Fashioned: less bottle battalions and more openness to mixology, alcoholic and otherwise. Thus, it convinces the marriage of service with a mélange cuisine -together easygoing and accessible- that Alessandro seems to have shaped on the uncommon foundations of the hotel, also aided by past experiences with Michelino Gioia, Vito Mollica and Antonello Colonna.
What, then, to expect from the route? Upstream, a pre-mix of cultures that incubates the chef's Abruzzese origins with Eastern graphics and workhorse French method. Then, a hint of courage that never erupts into the acid&bitter climax, but doses the cartridges to fire in the highlights of the dinner well. The result is an immovable menu dedicated to regular customers, since "with a shortlist of proposals we avoid repeating ourselves, often varying the dishes untied from the tasting menus," and, to follow, a kind of macro on Alessandro's research, with three fixed itineraries in the dark ("Natura, 4 courses at 55€; Emozioni, 5 at 80€; Passione, 7 at 105€).
The Cuisine
Bordeaux couches, “gothic” lighting, bodoir chandeliers: as soon as you sit down you think you could be in any year except 2025. Senonché to dampen the eclecticism of the room comes a set of photogenic miniatures: first, the Bon Bon of carbonara, with the bang of flavor of the condiment trapped in a fingertip dome, and the veal tongue, yes, but enclosed in a Samosa with orange mayonnaise and tzatziki, to slightly adjust the protein shot. Short leavened interval and just when you're copiously slathering the 5% salted alpine butter on the 5-grain loaf, the seasonal dances open on time.
It is a "forest bathing" the "Passeggiata nel bosco," with noble marine inserts to be unearthed in the tasting. Of the mushroom, in fact, the head appears marinated in miso, while a scallop seared in butter replaces the stem at the base. Only apparent risk, that of “hiding” the mollusk among the gifts of the earth, because the nutty hints of the pulp soon adapt to the new ecosystem, dialoguing with the encore of creams -of nettles and sweet garlic- splashed on the bottom.
Baroque by nature, the Fegato d'oca shows off unexpected talents in the encounter with a fragrant "panettone waffle," proposed as a homegrown stand-in for the French Pan brioche. In summary, Alessandro plates the foie gras after a preparatory bath in cointreau, wrapped in tangerine gel and flanked by a 30-hour marinated eel with balsamic vinegar glaze. The outcome? Beyond the meaty, the citrusy parenthesis gradually opens up: the candied fruits of the dessert, the persistence of the gel, and a drink that is also citric to match, which closes the burst of freshness by blunting the opulence of the offal.
It's a snap from animal paté to vegetable garum-just the time for a quick change of cutlery. With Spaghetto Antico Romano, the use of the typical ancestral anchovy sauce is revived, and here it becomes a means to a doubly virtuous end: saving waste and elevating “invisible foods,” too often relegated to the role of mere flavor enhancers. We are talking about Montoro coppered onion, used both as an extract to cook pasta, and-indeed-as a fermented sauce (obtaining a total green garum), until it becomes burnt powder for a smoky addition on the surface. Basically, a whole sensory arsenal hidden in the spaghetti nest, from sweetish accents to bitter reset.
Did someone say Ramen? Yes, but Abruzzese! Next run, an Italian variation of the famous Japanese “soup” where individual ingredients allude to the chef's birthplace. So, all of a sudden an umami rally starts on the regional circuit, thanks to the lamb present both in the consommé and in skewered form. Backing him up are tagliolini with Solina flour (from a soft wheat grown in the local highlands), purple potatoes, parsnips, wild chanterelles and black truffle, aimed at amplifying the wild fragrance between earthy and sheeplike. Jumping into the relaxation area is the Coniglio come una Lepre alla Royale with Jerusalem artichoke, roasted and umeshu-marinated plums, perhaps bolder in presentation than in registers of expression.
Anyway, the real surprise comes with the dessert, a Crème Brûlée special edition in which banana spherification releases tropical hints, assimilating childhood cuddles and travel memories. The caramel coating thins and the spiral silhouette is an open link on the evolution of the spoon dessert, which also explores the alternative texture of puffed dark chocolate.
Cloying, uneventful queues: the ending is unpredictable, in true Campocori style.
The hotel, the suites, the breakfast
Where were we? Ah, yes, the private cocktail bar: with spirits lined up in single file and kits of appropriate glasses, those who want to at Chapter can make their own aperitifs from the comfort of their suite. Warming the atmosphere is a cosy lounge, Marshall speakers and lighting by Bert Frank and Tom Dixon, which shines a spotlight on the same chameleon-like décor immortalized on the ground floor during check-in breaks. Not surprisingly, the line remains essential, free of frills and prone to contrasts-see the choice to pair furniture by half-unknown artisans with pieces by renowned artists.
If, therefore, for the introverts on duty the perfect plan will consist in holing up in their rooms to the bitter end, the socialites will happily laze about in the rooms of the Market, a café-bistro operating from the morning for a slow awakening and gradually destined to turn into a cosmopolitan living room during the middle hours of the day. The only pitfall, that of choosing en bloc between Avocado Toast with seeded bread, fondant muffins and butter cookies for breakfast. When in doubt, make it tic-tac-toe: there's a whole city out there to go around!
Contact
Campocori Restaurant - Hotel Chapter Rome
Via di S. Maria de' Calderari, 47, 00186 Rome RM
Phone: 06 8993 5351
