Driving into a busy strip mall on Cobequid Road in Sackville at six o’clock on a Wednesday, I admit I was puzzled. Why was the parking lot full? The answer became clear as soon as I stepped through the doors of Casa di Stefano—the space was buzzing. Couples leaned in over glasses of wine, families laughed around pizza-laden tables, and groups of friends lingered in animated conversation. There’s an energy here that feels rare for suburban dining, and much of it radiates from the heart of the restaurant: Stefano, the wood-fired oven that lends the restaurant its name, and the chef who commands it.
Seated at the bar—the last available spot—I had the perfect vantage point to watch the action. The chef, calm yet commanding. She seemed to work in tune with Stefano, every flick of the peel a careful negotiation between flame and dough. The host and manager, who I presume is also an owner, sets the tone for the room with a professional yet warm, Old-World charm. His confidence reflects someone who understands what makes a restaurant successful — not just good food, but hospitality that makes you feel like you’ve arrived somewhere that matters.
The menu reads like a love letter to Italy, albeit dressed up with verbiage and descriptions to accommodate most Nova Scotian’s unfamiliarity with authentic Italian cuisine. Yes, there’s a “crowd pleaser” (pepperoni by another name), but the chef’s passion for quality ingredients shines through. My bonfire artichokes, despite a slightly charred crust — in the case of a couple artichokes overly charred — were fresh and vibrant, the citrusy dressing a clever counterpoint to the artichoke’s earthy bite.
A plate of Caesar salad inspired roasted Brussels sprouts — sent in error instead of the Parmigiana Rustica (baked eggplant) that I ordered — was enjoyable if overcomplicated. This kitchen’s respect for good ingredients suggests a simpler treatment and a longer roasting time would better showcase their natural sweetness, which would also create a better juxtaposition with the bacon element. Admittedly, I am a sucker for simple roasted Brussels sprouts with little more than a few cubes of pancetta, Parmigiano and a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil. I say ditch the ‘Caesar’ gimmick and let the main ingredient shine.
The pasta Bolognese, however, was excellent — fresh fettuccine cooked perfectly al dente wrapped in a deeply savoury sauce, generous in portion and comfort. It needed only a touch more salt, but that didn’t stop me from finishing every bite. And the pizzas—The Queen’s Classic and Crowd Pleaser—were textbook Neapolitan style, with puffy, char-kissed crusts and that irresistible balance of chew and crispness. My only quibble was with the basil, baked on rather than added after, losing a little of its aromatic punch. And the bottom of my pizzas had an ashy taste, which might be a result of the volume of pizza being produced in the oven leaving an ashy residue. But these are small notes in what was, overall, a strong performance from Stefano and chef alike.
Where the experience falters is in service rhythm. Great restaurants have a cadence, where kitchen and service move in harmony, creating a perfectly timed concerto. Dishes arrived too quickly at first, with my pasta landing before I was halfway through my appetizers. Ironically later in the meal my pizzas were delayed from what I could deduce as a lost or misplaced ticket. The chef, doing double duty as cook and mentor, was impressive if underserved by those around her. Calls for clean dishes ignored, questions of ‘is the music on?’ (It wasn’t for long periods of time) fell on deaf ears. It’s clear she and the owner care deeply, but the floor staff need to catch up to that level of professionalism; small things like missed water refills, uncleared plates, inattentive pacing, and what appeared to be a general lack of the same love and commitment of the chef and owner pull down what could otherwise be a seamless dining experience.
Still, these are growing pains, not deal-breakers. Casa di Stefano is more than just a neighbourhood pizza spot—it’s proof that suburbia doesn’t have to settle for fast food or chain dining. Sackville clearly agrees; the restaurant was packed, and deservedly so. With a few refinements in service and some seasoning tweaks in the kitchen, Casa di Stefano could easily move from “very good” to destination-worthy. The pricing is also perfectly suburban, a thankful respite from often grotesquely expensive costs of Halifax’s urban eateries. The meal including two appetizers, one pasta, two pizza and two glasses of Botter Primitivo – a serviceable if unremarkable red wine from Puglia – coming to $111.72 including tax before gratuity. For now, it’s a welcome addition—and Stefano, the fiery star at its centre, is well worth the trip.
This article appears in Jul 1-31, 2025.