Quick, off the top of your head, what’s the oldest Italian restaurant you can think of that’s still open in Singapore? (And no, don’t say Saizeriya) Is it 20 years old? 30? Try 51 years old. Established in 1973, Pete’s Place has been a mainstay at the Grand Hyatt for generations, and it just underwent a major facelift. Buried beneath a stairway leading down to the hotel’s basement, this once cozy spot with plaid tablecloths, brick floor tiles, and hanging portraits has fully embraced the clandestine, cellar-like atmosphere of a basement restaurant.
For starters, the floor tiles are wooden now, and seatings are arranged more orderly, with spotlights warming each table from above. The décor might contain the usual elements of a standard fine dining establishment, but to longtime regulars, there is only one thought in their mind: Pete’s Place is bougie now.
Take, for example, their Prosciutto di Parma and melon—a seemingly unusual pairing but a classic in Italian cuisine. Here, the 24-month aged Parma ham—hand-selected by newly appointed chef, Salvatore Giorgio Catania—pairs beautifully with melon to deliver a deep interplay of flavours that develops with every chew. Then there’s the Supplì Romani, which you can think of as an Italian take on a croquette that’s covered in a thick layer of pecorino cheese. Its soft velvety interior meets crispy exterior, while the creamy cheese plays against a sharp, peppery note, delivering a unique mouthfeel.
Once your palate’s been awakened by the starters, move on to the Conchiglie Cioppino, an almost gluttonous medley of seafood—Boston lobsters, scallops, crab claws, prawns, and mussels—all nestled atop a bed of tomato pasta. It’s a celebration of ocean flavours. The penultimate Bistecca alla Fiorentina sees an Australian T-bone steak seasoned with Tuscan spices. The result is a classic bite that screams well-done—not in doneness, but in technique and execution.
Pete’s Signature Tiramisu does the unthinkable by becoming a dessert that ends up being the highlight of the night. This version layers sponge cake between cheese and espresso, soaking up both to create a surprisingly juicy bite. We can’t put a finger on what exactly makes this tiramisu so irresistible, but we have a sneaky suspicion it’s the addition of white amaretto—an almond-based liqueur with hints of vanilla. Let me explain.
We started with a glass of White Amaretto at the bar before the tasting began (and ended the meal with it, which felt rather poetic), and it quite honestly might be the finest sip of alcohol I’ve ever had. I’m no alcohol connoisseur by any means, but the fact that I wasn’t the only one raving about it told me I wasn’t crazy. Remember the name: White Amaretto. Order it.
