Restaurants Open Year-Round in Provincetown: Ciro & Sal's

Dinner Nightly 530-10p
On the menu tonight:

• Mussels (special)
• Burrata (salad)
• Pesce Limone (salmon)
• Vitello Piccato
• Pollo Piccata
• Calamari Piccanti

Bourdain, Ciro, and Sal

When you have Bourdain in mind, Ciro & Sal's can be approached with a “your reputation precedes you” reverence. This is where The God cut his teeth—dish pits to line cook, eventually chef—before heading off to the Culinary Institute of America, and the riches his talent had been biding its time to reap.

Every detail at Ciro & Sal's hums with potential myth-making, though its most famed alumni needs little help in that department. Bourdain’s Provincetown story—the local grit and hustle, the late nights awash in any and everything illicit and indulgent—has been well-documented, even fetishized. I mean, doesn’t any hero’s tale gain dimension from its sketchier panels? And Bourdain himself, from that first slip into his kitchen whites to his tragic last chapter, knew this intimately. It’s probably why he’s become a touchstone for a certain breed of people—the curious ones, often hungry, who don’t quite fit the mold.

I first encountered Bourdain’s sycophancy during my tenure at Thrillist, an ambitiously doomed foray into digital media. At that failed content house, he was more than revered, he was the lighthouse to which all of our oars turned; a chef as a literary renegade felt novel then. Shit, some even thought the act of understanding Bourdain—of marinating in his savage, open-hearted storytelling—might even impart an ounce of his creative magic. Fast forward a few years, a handful of vacations to this stretch of the Cape, a permanent move here, and suddenly the gravity of our stories are orbiting again, but now - outside of the paper thin veneer of pseudo-performative media glaze - far more substantially.

Surprisingly, this gravitational pull didn’t lead me to the Veal Marsala—an actual Bourdain sanctioned  classic—but the calamari piccanti instead. It hit with remarkable brightness, spice settling comfortably into the deeper registers. As much (or maybe more than?) the food, though, it’s the presence of the place that lingers. There’s the unmistakable approach: the marquee on Commercial Street leading you down a shadowed alley; the smaller sign affixed to the building, modest, like a promise; the final sight of Ciro & Sal’s rendered in script against a lattice fence by their wonderland-esque patio. The progression lulls you, not unlike the ploys of a comedy club, an amusement park ride, or some strip club—immersion tactics Bourdain himself may have appreciated.

I can’t help but recall another pilgrimage: a tour through New Mexico years ago where I hit a string of Billy the Kid landmarks. There was the courthouse—where Billy killed a man with two shotgun barrels loaded with dimes—there was his gravesite, and then an oddball museum stocked with cap guns, pistol belts, and grainy memorabilia. The mythology elevated even the tackier finds into something profound; legend is always ready to outshine drudgery.

Bourdain occupies this space too: a mythmaker and myth himself. Rock star first, chef second, with writing and television eventually throwing gasoline onto his cultural bonfire. He seemed more intrigued by living well—bold, unapologetic, middle finger on display for anybody looking—than behaving well. And yet, behind (or beyond) the tales of decadence and occasional debauchery lay something ineffably sincere: a drive to see the world, to peel back its corners and dine in its forgotten kitchens with the people who are too often considered nameless and faceless. He inspired us all to claim our cravings. To demand better. And though his ending still wounds, that Roman Candle spirit burns brighter in contrast. Bourdain certainly shunned Eliot’s whimper and pushed his chips in for an Bang!

Approaching Ciro & Sal’s feels like reaching back for some part of that energy. There’re the uneven bricks, the scent of sea spray sharp against cold air, and the restaurant’s iconic doors opening onto warmth—a yellow glow bouncing off dark wood. A homecoming. And for one night, eating with good friends and damn good calamari (was there a hearth nearby?), it’s easy to feel like some flicker of Bourdain’s expansive appetite, spirit, contribution to this world remains alive and well-ravenous here. Salut.

•••••

We were one of three or four tables—a testament to Provincetown’s calendar, not the place itself. Service was attentive but never oppressive—a tight rope walked well by old pros. Our server was equal parts invisible and indispensable, calibrating his presence perfectly to the ebb and flow of our evening.

A bottle of red? Yes. Menus opened. And as we ordered, the real performance began.

ANTIPASTI

Mussels

These are exceptional - especially the presentation, deliberately placed vertically, the mussels practically grew out of the base of the plate like skyscrapers out of the FiDi. A storm of spiced and diced tomato and garlic descended on the core of the shell’s city along with a lemon wedge for good measure.

INSALATA

Burrata

The salad is another victory. The bulb of cheese peppered and placed for dissection in the center of the greens and portioned very well for passing around the table.

SECONDI

Pesce Al Limone

The fish this night was the salmon. It arrived in a terrifically colorful presentation with the julienne carrots doing a lot of the work here. Sauteed spinach, capers, and zucchini rounded out the plate. The temperature and taste elicited quiet, slow nods of satisfaction graded over 90%.

Vitello Piccato

Several delicate slices of veal are sautéed and smothered in a mushroom, white wine, and lemon cream sauce - it was a server recommendation. Our man’s trust was earned and his word is now good with us.

Pollo Piccata

Clean presentation - two lovely slices of fire roasted chicken breast sauteed with fresh garlic in a lemon, white wine, and caper sauce. As an observer, the caper volume was not overdone but well done - good for the preso but not a sour overpower.

Calamari Piccanti

This is the only plate that had pasta on it rather than on the side, with it. It was prepared perfectly - and I like to know that al dente is considered in the kitchen but the place hasn’t been radicalized by those beliefs. I was warned up front that this dish was spicy, which are the dishes I look forward to, and I was not disappointed. Yes, I did towel off my forehead a few times but I had barely swallowed a bite before I was either awash in red wine or twirling up a new head vehicle. I would recommend, and also order, this dish again. Wonderful. And spicy.

CONTORNI

Pasta side plates were served with each of our dinners and they’re all wonderful.

DOLCE

Tiramisu

Not so liqueur heavy but a good sized portion with dollops of whipped cream to go around.

Cannoli

The ricotta cheese and chocolate chip filling was excellent. And again, the presentation was very nice with a checkerboard chocolate sauce drizzle and plenty of whipped cream.

All told, the four of us left Ciro & Sal’s much happier than we went in - and I for one went in very excited. We call counted this as one of our best dinner this off-season and would not only head back but would recommend to anyone who was ready to dig into a top shelf classic Italian dinner experience.

Enjoy for yourself.

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Do you have a favorite year-round Provincetown restaurant and want to regal us with tales of your adventures?
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