Hidden Gem: La Scogliera In Shelton-Authentic Italian Since 1978

It started with an email and ended with wedges of cake so creamy and fluffy we swore they were slices of Cloud Nine. Or perhaps Nuvola Nove.

The note was from Daniela Petrucelli, offering a brief history of her family’s restaurant, La Scogliera in Shelton. She explained that her parents, Carmelo and Carmelina Maione, opened the original restaurant in Bridgeport 46 years ago. In the early days, Daniela and her family, including sisters Francesca, Maria, and Diana, lived above the 150-seat eatery. “We would go downstairs to go to work, upstairs to go to bed,” she recalls. The restaurant became something of a hot spot, with a menu of hearty Italian-American dishes, fresh fish, and eventually, live music. Even the famously picky New York Times critic Mark Bittman liked it, rating it “Very Good” in 2003. 

The move to Shelton happened in 2006 and started as an effort to downsize. Says Daniela, “My father found this little pizza place with just a few tables. He started small but the food was so popular that we expanded to the space next door, which used to be a dance studio.” 

That was the dining room that I and two companions entered on a chilly, moonless Thursday, after finding the place in a low-key strip mall on the south side. Out of the darkness and into the light: an exuberant Daniela greeted us with such warmth, it was as if we’d been invited to a special family party in her home. In a way, we were: there was Uncle Ciccao (pronounced “chee-chee”), just back from an extended vacation in Sicily; Chef Carmelo was busy draining penne and tossing sauces in the kitchen; and mother Carmelina, although impacted by a stroke in 2021, made an appearance in the dining room (cousin Martina was absent that night but is usually “a big help,” says Daniela). 

Ordering was an adventure. La Scoliera (named after a resort town in Italy) has a large printed menu loaded with familiar options like Chicken alla Parmigiana, Gamberi alla Francese, and Scaloppine all Pizzaiola (I counted seven different veal offerings), plus a section of homemade pastas, including cavatelli, pappardelle, and gnocchi, as well as soups, salads, and antipasti. A well-rounded list of specials was also presented, featuring stuffed artichokes, pork chops, swordfish, linguini with lobster, and, at the top of the list, seasonal cocktails made by bartender Kimberly Cook, whose fan base filled the lively barroom in the adjacent space. Already overwhelmed by choices, Daniela further confounded our efforts to commit by telling us that certain dishes could be ordered “alla Daniela.” These are her own “secret specials” in which she suggests added ingredients for extra decadence. “This started when people would see me eating something that wasn’t on the menu and wanted to know what it was and if they could have it, too,” she explained.

We finally made some decisions. But when I ordered an appetizer of escargot in a white wine sauce, a woman seated two tables away expressed her disapproval. “Get it with the red sauce!” she called out, not quietly. When I realized she was talking to me, I found myself defending my preference, and then offering a compromise: how about red sauce on the side? “It’s not the same!” she insisted. I stayed the course. The escargot was heady and fragrant and I mopped up the cloudy white sauce with homestyle Italian bread and I had no regrets. 

We soldiered on. Cheese-stuffed meatballs were pleasantly spicy; each was the size of a softball, as Daniele had promised. An order of fresh bocconcini (mozz to you) was served with red pepper and basil and tomato. I like my cheese at room temperature, so it was a little too cold for my taste, but – to each her own. 

The queen of the entrees was the Zuppa de Pesce. This medley of clams, mussels, calamari, and shrimp over linguine was sauced to garlicy perfection and made my shellfish-loving heart go pitter pat. I was surprised to find that the shrimp hadn’t been shelled, and it was messy work reaching into the saucy plate to peel them, but then I learned that the shells were deliberately kept intact to preserve the full flavor of the shrimp. No argument here: it certainly was flavorful. 

One of my dining companions, Mr. Lucky, ordered fresh pasta – the Pappardelle al Ragout, a hearty red meat sauce entwined with wide noodles, which he devoured with a grin. “The homemade pasta is what makes this place special,” he declared, and said he couldn’t wait to try the cavatelli. Hayward, a.k.a. “The Meat Tooth,” went for the Scallopine alla Svizzera. The menu describes the dish as veal sauteed with mushrooms and prosciutto, except that he opted for a pork chop instead of the veal (substitutions are welcome) and ordered it “alla Daniela,” that is, smothered in a layer of mozzarella. It was complex, full of flavor, and deserves a spot on the Big Eaters Hall of Fame menu.

There was never a dull moment at La Scogliera. We sampled a pistachio martini, which tasted like boozy Ben & Jerry’s, eavesdropped on a large group of diners discussing why “The Godfather” is the best movie ever made, and cracked jokes with server Maritsa, who knew the regulars by name. Uncle Ciccao chose wine for us, the table favorite being a Casata Monticello Barbera d’Asti from Piemonte. Meanwhile, the bar was hopping. I got the sense that everyone in that cozy room knew each other, a friendly neighborhood scene, with sports on the tvs. In the kitchen toward the back of the building, I visited with Chef Carmelo, a man with soft eyes who looked like he had spent his life making magic with pots and pans and wouldn’t have it any other way. I also got a peek at the fresh Italian cakes made daily by he and Carmelina.

Those cakes were exquisite. When they landed on our table -- a ricotta cake, a pistachio cake, and a “Special Cake” of white chocolate, toasted almond, and coconut – I heard a choir of angels singing. Creamy, dreamy, light and not overly sweet, it was these desserts that stayed in our minds long after the dishes had been cleared and we’d said our fond goodbyes. Well, that and the fresh pasta. And the hospitality, definitely the hospitality, which included hugs from Daniela. 

So, what inspired her to sit down and write in the first place? Daniela was – and is – proud not only of her parent’s culinary gifts, but of their determination -- their collective courage – and wanted the world beyond Shelton to know about it. Her mother’s stroke had initially left her without speech (she’s improving with therapy), yet she still makes the rounds in the dining room, as she has since 1978. Earlier this year her father, at age 73, survived a horrific car crash that nearly took his life. But Mr. and Mrs. Maione are still going strong, buoyed by the love of family, loyal customers, and red sauce. 

La Scogliera Located in the South Side Shopping Center 474 River Rd, Shelton