I’d headed to try the much touted cannolo from Luigi di Napoli, in Chacarita only to find that it was apparently long ago replaced by a different Italian bakery. They still offer cannoli, with three varieties filled with pastry cream, and just one with ricotta. The shell is light and crisp for the most part, though with parts that were chewy, just thicker bits as if not rolled out evenly. The filling is well made, and studded throughout with grated chocolate. One end is dipped in pistachios and garnished with a candied orange peel, the other in chocolate chips and a marinated cherry. While good, I thought it was just a little too “busy”.

Here, the letdown is the shell, which while thin and beautifully golden, has been refrigerated pre-filled, resulting in a weird texture that was hard as a rock on the outside and wet inside. A shame, because the just barely sweetened, lemony ricotta was absolutely spot-on, as was the generous dipping of pistachios. Cannoli shells should never be pre-filled and refrigerated. Period.

I was worried when I saw several cannoli in a refrigerated case as I approached the counter, but thankfully, it turned out those were just display models, and when you order, someone actually fills and decorates your cannolo to order. Paper-thin shell, has a really almost perfect bite to it. Perhaps a bit small, certainly in contrast to some of the others I’ve tried. The ricotta filling, tinged with lemon, is quite good, and there’s a generous dipping of pistachios on both ends. Overall, quite pleased, and other than the presentation on a couple of pieces of cardboard, this one gets solid thumbs up.

One of my friends and regular readers recommended this spot, and she’s usually pretty spot-on, especially with Italianate things. This is a small café with a few tables on the sidewalk and a brisk take-away business. The cannolo is one of the better ones I’ve had, with a whisper thin shell, perfectly browned. The ricotta is lightly sweetened. For me it was missing a tang of acidity – while historically that comes from using sheep’s milk ricotta, something we don’t have here, it’s often made up for with some citrus added – I’d have liked that. One end is dipped in pistachios, the other in bitter chocolate. The owner kept trying to talk me out of a ristretto, an espresso with less water, so more concentrated, he seemed worried that I didn’t understand.

Mixed feelings about this one. The shell is just wrong. While it’s crisp and flaky on the outer surface, something has happened inside turning it into a hard, difficult to even bite into layer. The ricotta is barely sweetened, with what I guess is cocoa powder mixed in. And the ends are slathered with Nutella, or something similar. You know what? No mixed feelings. I wouldn’t order one again. I can’t get past whatever is wrong with the shell.

Like everything else at this excellent Italian restaurant, portions are for sharing. You can’t just get one cannolo, you get cannoli, three of them. Light, crispy, delicate shell. The filling is lovely and citrusy, maybe just a touch sweeter than I prefer, but not overdone. A generous dipping of crushed pistachios. Like half of each of the other plates that I sampled, I brought two of the three home for future nibblings.

Just disappointing. The first time I went here, they were “out of” ricotta filled cannoli, and only had pastry cream versions. I passed. But the place has great sandwiches, and why not return? On the second visit, another great sandwich, but still no ricotta filled cannoli. Why? “Oh, we never had them, but the owner keeps them on the menu because it looks more authentic.” Alrighty then. Tried a pastry cream one, with pistachios, and oddly, slices of kiwi on the side. It was sickly sweet and the shell was just wrong. Pass. Go for the sandwiches.

Crisp shell, though my sense is that they don’t use any sugar in the dough for it, which is odd, and a little jarring by contrast with the overly sweet filling, and the dulce de leche sauce. Maybe they thought that adding sugar to the dough would be over the top. It already is, go for it. Too sweet for me. Go for the pizzas.

Too full from pizza, I got this to go. It’s easily the most expensive cannolo I’ve encountered on this venture, at 8000 pesos, or $8! Good shell, completely unsweetened ricotta filling with a grating of orange zest in it, one end dipped in chocolate and orange, the other in pistachios. Good, but no wows.

Sibling restaurant of Scrocchia, which I included in the first round. You might expect, with the same owner and chef, that the cannoli would be more or less identical, but they’re not. They’re certainly quite similar – the shells delicate and crisp – but these are lighter in color and less… bubbled from the frying. The filling is the same – a silky, pureed ricotta with a tang and just a bit of sweetness – although not side by side, my memory says these are sweeter. And these come in an only chocolate chip version – both ends well studded, whereas those at Scrocchia have one end in chocolate and one in pistachio. Excellent!