Pizzicotto is the kind of place The Monster can get behind. It’s warm, homey, friendly and most importantly it never fails to deliver a meal that satisfies without being pretentious or cute or costing thirty-seven gazillion dollars. There is a real touch of neighborhood Italy here, something The Monster often pines for after getting married in Capri.
A stalwart on Italian row in Brentwood, The Monster has been coming to this little sliver of a spot for years. He is always greatly warmly, offered plenty of the assorted and addictive breads with warm, garlicky oil while he peruses the menu and daily specials. And not once has he left unhappy.