Restaurant Reviews

T's

BILL RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 26 Nov 2008 12:11:59 GMT

The definitive family breakfast restaurant
How in the world can a restaurant that serves only breakfast and lunch — the least expensive two-thirds of the business — stay in business?

How in the world can a restaurant that serves only breakfast and lunch — the least expensive two-thirds of the business — stay in business? I always shake my head over that one. Well, T's has done so, and so successfully that the original Cranston place cloned off an East Greenwich location last April.

And quite successfully, it appears. Arriving about 9:45, we had a 10-minute wait. The place seats 130, but when I looked up half an hour later, more than two-dozen brunch-deprived customers filled the large waiting area and spilled into the dining room as well as into the cold outside.

A positive impression had preceded this visit: my dining partner brought home a corned beef Reuben. Seeded rye wasn't offered, but the marbled rye was fresh, the sauerkraut well-drained, and the lean meat thickly piled.

The accompanying French fries were greaseless and good too. And the chicken soup was definitive, full of those tiny pasta beads and chunks of white meat. Checking out the lunch menu now, I saw that sandwiches top out at $8.29 and include oven-roasted turkey and marinated grilled chicken.

Lunch isn't served on Sundays, when we arrived, just brunch till 3. That was just as well, because the breakfast menu I pored over had much more interesting choices. Signature items featured from the grill include something they call "Ooey Gooey French Toast" ($7.99), made from glazed cinnamon coffee buns.

There is also the "T's Rose Window Waffle" ($7.99), from a 1905 recipe, the waffle topped with an odd fruit alliance of strawberries, blueberries, and peaches, with yogurt and crunchy granola on that. (Crunchy granola a century ago? Who knew?) The serving of fruit and yogurt at the next table displayed large pieces of fresh cantaloupe, honeydew, and pineapple, with a strawberry like a cherry on top.

There was a separate printed list of specials, which change every few months. In addition to the pumpkin pancakes and caramel apple-stuffed French toast, there was a jam-packed breakfast sandwich ($7.99) that caught my eye.

It boasted of containing plenty of Canadian bacon, and that was no lie, although the pile of it was grilled top and bottom, rather than the individual slices. Sweet onions, tomatoes, and lots of mushroom slices pumped up the scrambled eggs so well that I didn't even mind forgetting to substitute the American cheese. The kitchen-baked focaccia was tasty and not too dense. The accompanying home fries were brown little marvels, lightly seasoned and deep-fryer crisp.

El Tapatio

JOHNETTE RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 19 Nov 2008 21:06:46 GMT

South of Providence, south of the border
Once upon a time, Rhode Islanders would have been enormously grateful to have a Mexican restaurant like El Tapatio in our midst: good burritos, enchiladas, and fajitas

Once upon a time, Rhode Islanders would have been enormously grateful to have a Mexican restaurant like El Tapatio in our midst: good burritos, enchiladas, and fajitas, Cal-Mex/Tex-Mex style. Nowadays, when Mexican food has become almost as common as pizza, we tend to take such things for granted. But apparently the folks of Knightsville don't. With a 200-seat capacity, El Tapatio's first dining room was almost full by 7 on a Saturday night, and the second was starting to fill up.

The two large high-ceilinged rooms are separated by an impressive arched entryway, and the whole effect is of a Southwestern adobe ranchero, complete with traditional dress, both male and female, displayed high up on the peach-colored walls. Though there are half-a-dozen booths at one end of the room, even these table tops have colorful tiles imbedded in the edges.

The rest of the area is dominated by colorful Mexican chairs, both tall ones at the long bar and around a few tables, and regular ones at two-tops and four-tops. The backs of these large wooden chairs are carved and painted with calla lilies, sunflowers, toucans, saguaros, smiling suns, and beaming moons.

The scene made us smile, too, as we began to look at the extensive menu that included familiar suspects — tacos, quesadillas, chimichangas (like deep-fried burritos) — and less well-known items, such as grilled steak in a chicken mole sauce, grilled pork loin with guacamole, and shrimp sautûed with potato chunks and red peppers. There were even burgers and grilled chicken sandwiches for the less adventurous.

We began with a Tapatio sampler ($10.50), a huge platter of appetizers that included four "Diablo wings"; a small amount of nachos, with plenty of melted cheddar underneath and on top of the crisp tortilla chips, garnished with tomatoes and onions; four mini-quesadillas; four taquitos, deep-fried tightly rolled corn tortillas with chicken inside; and plenty of guacamole and sour cream. We chowed down on a bit of everything and realized we'd have to take most of our entrûe offerings home with us.

Bill zoomed in on a Mexican trio ($17.50), another large platter consisting of thin skirt steak charbroiled with some pink still in it; a thin-pounded and broiled chicken breast with a mild ranchero sauce; and two fat "Portuguese shrimp," wrapped with bacon, ham, and cheese in a cream sauce. These were served with a full complement of Spanish rice, pintos with queso fresco on top, and a salad garnished with pico de gallo and a large slice of avocado. Need I mention that he was overwhelmed with his choices? He was particularly impressed that the steak had kept its tenderness and rareness and was thereby very flavorful.

Estoril

BILL RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 12 Nov 2008 23:41:52 GMT

Inexpensive elegance
Usually, an ethnic restaurant in Rhode Island means one of two things: cheap eats or fancy surroundings. Estoril, in Fall River, offers a twofer — chandelier and cloth napkin elegance, plus good Portuguese food that’s surprisingly inexpensive.

Usually, an ethnic restaurant in Rhode Island means one of two things: cheap eats or fancy surroundings. Estoril, in Fall River, offers a twofer — chandelier and cloth napkin elegance, plus good Portuguese food that’s surprisingly inexpensive.

Outside, it looks inviting, with a colonnade façade and arched, curtained windows that reveal the fancy interior but don’t make the diners showpieces. Inside, large leather armchairs in the entrance bar-lounge are tempting, even if you’re not a weary traveler. There is a private alcove here, where a romantic couple can exchange moony gazes without amusing their neighbors.

The adjoining dining room has wine-red walls and matching scroll-top chairs, plush and padded. Estoril clearly invites you to linger. The bread, from a local bakery, is especially tasty. The wine list has about two-dozen by the bottle, mostly Portuguese, and eight by the glass.

The restaurant’s namesake is a seaport town, and this menu reflects that. More than a dozen items are listed under the fish and seafood categories, as all three pastas could be. The eight meat dishes include alentejana, which is always likely to raise the eyebrows of a diner unfamiliar with Portuguese cuisine, since it combines marinated pork with littleneck clams.

The top item on the latter list tempted me. Billed simply as Portuguese steak ($14.95), the sirloin was described as being topped with an egg and having “an amazing pan-gravy.” Our sweetly friendly waitress, Nancy, said that it received top honors in a recent local competition. Other meat choices include a shish-kebab, with chourico as well as beef, and a signature chicken dish with mushrooms and a sherry cream sauce. None are more than $15.95.

No Portuguese restaurant can get away without offering shrimp Mozambique, with its spicy garlic red sauce, as an appetizer anymore than an Italian restaurant can disregard fried calamari. All the starters are $8.95 and $9.95. Having considered the meat dishes first, I was primed to choose the flaming chourico. Nancy managed to arrive with eyebrows unsinged, holding outstretched a pig-shaped clay bowl of flames beneath an enormous, charring sausage. Gently blowing out the sterno, I managed to not set fire to the table and felt rewarded by my first spicy bite.

Machupicchu Restaurante

BILL RODRIGUEZ — Thu, 06 Nov 2008 01:35:56 GMT

A little corner of Peru

We discovered Machupicchu Restaurante at one of those benefits in which area restaurants set up tables to impress us with their fare. We were impressed. The chupe de mariscos was fascinating, a rice soup with an ocean of seafood, vegetables, and an interesting seasoning I couldn’t place. Hmmm, we agreed: Peruvian food is something we could really get into.

The place is unassuming, with the expected travel posters and one with a beaming soccer team. This is clearly a family restaurant. As well as cans of soda in the cold case, two-liter bottles are dispensed. In fact, a window sign was bragging about a rotisserie chicken special, a whole bird for $13.99, with a big bottle of soda thrown in. Peruvian-style weekend breakfasts were also touted, serving inexpensive dishes, light on the eggs, heavy on the ham or fried pork chunks, or even fried fish.

The moderate prices have gone up a buck or two since the last time they had their take-out menu printed. Being near Providence College, the place is mindful of families on a budget and also of the family-bereft: you get 10 percent off with a college student ID.

The menu has helpful descriptions in English, but there is an initial confusion — the first category, “Entrada,” is translated as entrée instead of appetizer. Most of those items are seafood, as are four of the five soups — meal portions only, not by the cup — and the list of seafood main courses is about twice as long as the “Carnes” choices.

No pork there, just beef, each dish $12, and only steak. Steak grilled, sautéed, breaded and fried; steak “a lo pobre,” with a fried egg; believe it or not; steak fried rice; and, God help us, steak sautéed with spaghetti, onions, and tomatoes.

But enough of the competition with Argentina. Machupicchu’s offerings make clear that Peru has a long coastline. I started off with a seafood appetizer that was bountiful enough to be my entire meal. Their three ceviches are shrimp, fish, and my choice, ceviche mixto ($14.50), which adds octopus, calamari, and even unannounced clams and mus-sels, all “cooked” by being marinated in lemon juice. Three medium shrimp decorated the top of a high, tangy pile that was not for the tentacle-averse. Accompanying that was hominy and equally large kernels of Peruvian corn, baked crisp.

Broadway Bistro

JOHNETTE RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 23:26:34 GMT

Setting a subtle mood
Broadway Bistro has a prime corner location with large windows looking onto the historic street in its name, as well as onto a side street.

Broadway Bistro has a prime corner location with large windows looking onto the historic street in its name, as well as onto a side street. Therefore, you might expect a light-filled interior, at least during the sea-sons when it’s not dark by dinnertime. But a late-night spot thrives on setting a low-light mood, even a secretive air. Local designer Kyla Coburn’s combination of tomato-red walls, red lights, black wainscoting, black woodwork, and black ceilings definitely contributes to that vibe.

The menu also accommodates bar food appetites, with hefty and out-of-the-ordinary appetizers, plus entrées that go beyond the usual spices and accompaniments. The appetizers are more meat-heavy than you might predict from the contemporary feel of the restaurant, i.e. the sliced beet salad has prosciutto; the red bean soup has chourico; and the artichoke and bibb salad has pancetta. Similarly, the house gnocchi, usually a reliable meatless option, are served with Italian sausage.

Nonetheless, our party of four managed to find several dishes that called to us, with Bill and friend Stuart considering an arm wrestle over which one of them would have the walnut-crusted hen ($14), and which the double duck plate ($20), highly touted by our waitress, as a new customer favorite. Bill ended up with the duck, and Stuart the “half a hen,” while Cathy and I both opted for nightly specials: a “fish fry” for her, and codfish cakes ($15) for me.

We started out by sharing the Broadway bowl, a soothing miso-ginger broth with vermicelli noodles and edamame ($11). The generous quantity of the edamame stretched this portion into leftovers for two lunches.

Stuart enjoyed the red bean soup ($4), especially the fresh cilantro that brought out the other flavors. His chicken entrée was served with mashed Yukon gold potatoes and roasted/caramelized carrots, the latter the hit of the table. The chicken also benefited from a Thanksgiving treatment: a cranberry-sage jus.

Bill’s duck plate featured seared duck breast and a confit risotto with a gingered port sauce. The peas listed in the menu didn’t materialize, but Bill seemed satisfied with his choice.

Cathy was also pleased with her fish fry, crispy-crusted flounder fillets balanced on a mound of risotto with pea tendrils, their crunch a nice contrast to the creamy risotto.

Spirito’s

BILL RODRIGUEZ — Thu, 23 Oct 2008 03:11:57 GMT

Family dining for cheapskates
Sunday’s daily special at Spirito’s, an all-you-can-eat roasted chicken deal that borrows from the Blackstone Valley tradition, includes pasta, as well as French fries and salad — for $9.95. You read that right.

How do they do it? Pardon me for being impressed, but I’m a cheapskate. Sunday’s daily special at Spirito’s, an all-you-can-eat roasted chicken deal that borrows from the Blackstone Valley tradition, includes pasta, as well as French fries and salad — for $9.95. You read that right.

And the food here isn’t just hastily concocted and tossed onto plates. From our experiences, and from its reputation, they care about ingredients and preparations. Gregory and David Spirito, who take turns helming the kitchen, take the virtuous course, as you’d expect from guys with that demanding sort of surname.

The place is located in the basement of a Sons of Italy lodge, pretty good indication that the food is guilt-tripped into being as good as Mama used to make. (On our visit, we didn’t notice any of the burly guys at one long table wiping away tears of maternal nostalgia, but they could have been tougher than they looked.)

The decor is simple, a typical family restaurant setting. Appetites are humorously enhanced by battered, bulky chairs designed for those quasi-Renaissance banquet feasts. About a dozen wines are listed, all available by the glass and all inexpensive — half of them $13.50 a bottle, none more than $24.

The appetizers ($9.95 or less) are a survey of Rhode Island traditional foods: stuffies, clam zuppa, and fried calamari for everyone; snail salad and fried smelts for the true believers. Having enjoyed the last item here before, we chose the Spirito’s farmer’s special ($8.95). The bowl of cannelloni beans was simmered with red onions and loads of diced capicola, that pork shoulder luncheon meat, providing a rich gravy for the bruschetta it surrounded. So simple, so flavorful.

A cup of one of the soups of the day ($2/$3 ala carte) comes with the entrées, and we were served those first. Since I prefer richly flavored to heart healthy, the chicken escarole was a little on the bland side for me, but fine for my dinner companion. The red clam chowder worked better, with bits of tomato and enough clam bits to compete with the potatoes. Johnnie doesn’t like tomatoes with fish, so I had it all to myself.

Scales and Shells

JOHNETTE RODRIGUEZ — Thu, 16 Oct 2008 05:36:39 GMT

A big emphasis on seafood (surprise!)
Since the open kitchen at Scales and Shells is behind the hostess station, you are pulled into the restaurant by the aroma of wood smoke and garlic as you open the door.

Since the long open kitchen at Scales and Shells is just behind the hostess station, you are pulled into the restaurant by the aroma of wood smoke and garlic as soon as you open the front door. The countertop around the kitchen is low enough to offer a view of cooks scurrying, steam rising, and flames shooting up now and again.

Turning toward the dining area, you take in the airy space with white ceilings and woodwork next to apricot walls. There’s one large seascape, three modest ceramic fish, and a sculpted metal fish on the walls. This stripped-to-basics, ship-shape décor carries over to the oversized blackboard on the back wall.

But here I simply must ask: is chalk cheaper than paper? Or does tradition trump comfort? The blackboard at Scales and Shells, with its multi-colored listings, may be down-home chic, but for anyone over 40 and/or not sitting within a good sight line of this menu, it can mean several trips to stand in front of it and consider your options. Isn’t taking time to peruse the menu in your hands part of the fun of going out to eat?

Okay, okay, what exactly was on that blackboard? As special appetizers, there was spicy tuna with sesame sauce, mussels au gratin, and swordfish fingers. Entrée specials were fish dishes with a bit extra, such as the toro tuna with grilled asparagus and mushrooms. Did I mention that Scales and Shells touts itself as Newport’s only “only seafood” restaurant?

It was therefore gratifying to see that if you came here for a family dinner as a vegetarian, you could, in fact, get linguine aglio and olio, pasta primavera, a veggie kebab, a salad, or grilled asparagus, mushrooms, or eggplant.

Most people seek out the seafood, of course, and judging by the diners on that Sunday evening, many come for the lobster, prepared in several ways, including with a fra diavolo sauce. Other seafood items, whether with scales or with shells, are shopped for daily by the S&S staff. Available from the wood grill that evening were: lobster, shrimp, scallops, salmon, monkfish, tuna, toro tuna, black sea bass, striped bass, and bluefish.

Kon Asian Bistro

BILL RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 08 Oct 2008 23:30:17 GMT

With a heavy Japanese accent
Kon is essentially Japanese, but it calls itself an “Asian Bistro,” inviting us to cross borders.

Most pan-Asian restaurants never get past sushi for their Japanese choices, and most Japanese restaurants are strictly just that. Kon is essentially Japanese, but it calls itself an “Asian Bistro,” inviting us to cross borders.

A pretentious self-description on their Web site claims that the place “sets a new standard for the Asian Fusion.” The claim is misleading. Three of us enjoyed what we had on a recent visit, but not because of ingenious cross-cuisine experimenting.

The Japanese dishes remain purely Nipponese, the Thai, somewhat Thai, and the Chinese, somewhat Chinese. This is essentially a Japanese restaurant with nearly 20 items from those two other countries, plus an Indian curry pancake here and an Indonesian satay skewer there. (Imagine the anguish of a Japanese chef asked to put fish sauce in the miso soup or kim chi in a cucumber roll.)

But the restaurant is also a visual entertainment. Inside is a large statue of the Buddha at the end of a koi pond. (They were hiding when we passed, maybe fearing the bombardment of wishes that had layered the bottom with glinting coins.) Numerous lighting fixtures dangle from the high ceiling, half of them surrounded by lengthy, glowing shrouds tied off at the bottom. They aggressively compete with tokens of serenity here and there, such as water rippling down a glass partition; goodbye Zen temple, hello Ginza shopping district.

We heard what sounded like a Kurosawa soundtrack from behind the glass. Hurrying over, I saw only a Samurai chef at one of the hibachi stations, cutting, shouting, and flipping bits of food at, and sometimes into, the mouths of a delighted group of college students seated in a horseshoe around him.

All that disappeared with my first sip of their miso soup ($2.50), which was tastier by coming from the bowl next to me. It had been recommended by a foodie friend who said that it was slightly thicker than the usual preparation, as my neighbor now also remarked. I also enjoyed my tom yam soup ($5). The fixture of Thai restaurants was generous with seafood, and nicely sweet-tart.

We also tried the mini Beijing duck ($8), a quarter-portion of the Chinese pressed-duck classic. It was still a goodly portion for the three of us to sample, the skin properly crisp, served with hoisin sauce and a couple of half-moon pancakes, though the description said three.

Three Rivers

JOHNETTE RODRIGUEZ — Thu, 02 Oct 2008 06:59:24 GMT

Homemade pleasures in Warren
We’d been hearing about the Three Rivers café since it first opened three years ago, primarily because of the cachet of having Phoebe Dunn’s pies served there.

We’d been hearing about the Three Rivers café since it first opened three years ago, primarily because of the cachet of having Phoebe Dunn’s pies served there. Dunn owned the dear, departed Phoebe’s, in Seekonk, for 20 years, and fortunately for Rhode Islanders, her son Eli paid close attention as a kid to her super-special way with seafood and with desserts.

He’s now heading up the kitchen at Three Rivers, after apprenticeships out West and at Julian’s, in Providence. Alas, Phoebe no longer supplies him with pies, but the loss can be overlooked in light of Eli’s inventive menu, with its panoply of wonderful choices.

Kudos must also go to landlord Paul Bullock, long-time Warren restaurateur, for refurbishing what had been a screened-in porch on the back of his own popular Tav-Vino Restau-rant. That space is now Three Rivers, with cottage-style windows on two sides, skylights up above and a glorious view of boats on the Warren River from any table.

If you’d like to be even closer to the water, you can choose one of the eight outside tables, weather permitting, that are under a large, permanent canopy. Or you can even arrive by boat and tie up at the restaurant’s dock to indulge in a leisurely Sunday brunch.

We cruised over to Warren in our ole reliable Camry, but the effect was similar: we were damp from the rain and eager to nestle into this warm and welcoming café. It was bustling but not boisterous — such a change from other eateries that feel compelled to crank up the music and boost the overall sound level. Here, what we heard were the clatter of dishes and utensils from the open kitchen just a few steps away and an occasional call for a waitress to pick up an order.

The first problem with the menu is that there are so many great options, from both the regular menu and the daily specials. The other issue, of course, is that if you arrive to-ward the end of Three Rivers’ day, you’re apt to find that some items are sold out. The whole wheat pumpkin pancakes with spiced native apples, and the huevos rancheros on two locally made blue corn tortillas, were two such dishes on our visit. Also while we were there, the Ducktrap River smoked salmon Benedict ran out.

Stone Bridge

BILL RODRIGUEZ — Thu, 25 Sep 2008 06:32:17 GMT

Tzatziki and red sauce
The menu leans toward Greek and Italian dishes, the latter red-sauce offerings properly secondary.

It’s easy to overlook the Stone Bridge Restaurant, what with the sweeping view of the Sakonnet River competing for attention across the road soon after you enter Tiverton. It’s not at all fancy inside, though there is cloth on the tables as well as a single rose on each. Red-berried bittersweet is draped against the lace valances above the water-side windows, giving a homey touch.

The menu leans toward Greek and Italian dishes, the latter red-sauce offerings properly secondary. (Although, what was the last pizzeria you were in that wasn’t run by Greeks? Was there a historical battle they won that we don’t hear about?)

The chef and amiable proprietor is Nick Chrisochoidis. He used to call the place Mykonos, though he is originally from Salonika. His ethnic comfort foods are evident at lunch, when Greek sausage and lamb kebabs are available as both entrées and sandwiches, along with gyros. The first two are also on the evening menu, among the five “Mykonos Classics.”

Despite the ongoing garlic competition among Mediterranean and Aegean cuisines, Nick doesn’t believe in overpowering his dishes’ flavors, believing them to be entrusted to his keeping. In Greece, I’ve had tzatziki so hot and heavy on the raw garlic that I feared for my tooth enamel; here the sauce is mainly yogurt and shredded cucumber, merely garlic-ish. Not only does he not offer retsina on his wine list of more than four dozen — he thinks it’s nasty stuff — he doesn’t even offer ouzo at the bar.

On my first recent luncheon visit, my friend Stuart and I dove into a sort of tapas array of appetizers and salads ($7.95-$13.95). Among the specials, the little burgundy baby octopi with chickpeas and grape tomatoes were a particular hit, nicely charred, and vinegared just enough to open up taste buds, complemented by fresh-chopped oregano.

Sharp, shaved Romano provided a similar complementing to thick slices of roasted eggplant, smoky under a light tomato sauce. Scallops were a good choice for the ceviche, the moist mollusk diluting the lime juice that can be too biting when the usual shrimp is used. The perfect ending was provided by three fresh figs, upright and split, looking like fingers proffering chunks of feta.

Galito Restaurant

JOHNETTE RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 17 Sep 2008 20:42:31 GMT

Portuguese fare worth the trip
It’s heartwarming to have a very young waitress at the Portuguese-American Galito Restaurant who is obviously fluent in the mother tongue.

When I first moved to Rhode Island, more than two decades ago, I heard that 20 percent of the population spoke Portuguese. Now, although first- and second-generation immigrant communi-ties have shifted in many ways, it’s still heartwarming to have a very young waitress at the Portuguese-American Galito Restaurant who is obviously fluent in the mother tongue.

This meant that she didn’t have to scurry to the kitchen every time we asked a question about a menu item. It also helped all of us when she tried to explain one of the desserts: “bean” cake with no beans. She told us the Portuguese word for its main ingredient (farinha), and we finally understood that could mean “farina,” either ground wheat or corn.

But I’ve jumped ahead. Bill was drawn to start his meal with camarao alhinho (shrimp in garlic sauce, $9.50) and I with the traditional caldo verde (kale and potato soup, $3). Though we were familiar with these dishes, we found both a bit different than we remembered.

The shrimp sauce was more dominated by butter than garlic or hot pepper, less spicy than some we’ve had, but absolutely delicious, especially for dipping pieces of the light Portuguese rolls into it.

The soup had a tasty potato broth that was thicker than many others, with shreds of kale all through it, and yellow olive oil pooling along the sides, a true comfort food. I had asked for the sliced chouriço to be left out of my portion, though that would have given it another heft of spiciness.

We looked over the “specialties of the house”: a bouillabaisse-like seafood stew, a barbecued Cornish hen, and a 12-ounce steak with a fried egg on top. Bill considered other meat possibilities, including the popular carne de porco a Alentejana, which are marinated pork cubes roasted in a sauce with littlenecks.

But the two drawing cards for both of us were the bacalhau (salt cod) dishes and the special that evening of grilled squid ($11.95). (I tried to talk him into the octopus stew, but no go.)

Cod that’s been dried and salted to preserve it — which the Portuguese were the first to do when they fished the Grand Banks in the 15th Century — must be carefully soaked in water or milk to re-hydrate and desalinate the fish. It’s tricky to know just how a restaurant will handle this, but chef and co-owner Daniel Gomes came through with flying col-ors.

Don José Tequilas

BILL RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 16:29:21 GMT

A great Mexican outpost on the Hill
With the restaurants on Federal Hill packed bruschetta to osso buco, competing in slow-mo culinary combat, it’s good to see one old favorite survive and even thrive.

With the restaurants on Federal Hill packed bruschetta to osso buco, competing in slow-mo culinary combat, it’s good to see one old favorite survive and even thrive. While all those Italian restaurants on Atwells Avenue go on dueling with breadsticks, Don José Tequilas calmly sits back sipping a nice aged reserva and greeting customers up for something different — some good Mexican food.

The restaurant has been in this location for eight years, expanded from a tiny place over on Plainfield Street, gaining fans that would go along. In love with their off-menu shrimp ceviche — which is now on the menu ($12.95) — I would have followed them to Woonsocket.

Fresh ingredients, traditional recipes with interesting touches (a sprinkling of oregano in the guacamole), just those sorts of open secrets, that’s their secret. You won’t find cheddar on their chile rellenos.

Chef Rachael Diaz has been preparing her seafood here, especially shrimp, with recipes from her native Yucatán for many years. She is now accompanied by Maria Hernandez, from Vera Cruz. Owners Jaime and Jose Garcia are from Morelia, in the state of Michoacan, between Mexico City and Guadalajara.

We could have started with either black bean or red broth soup with guajilla chiles ($4.95/$7.95). The simple house salad ($6.50), or one sparked up with mango and raspberry vinai-grette ($7.95), can be turned into a dinner by adding beef, chicken, or shrimp. As with most ethnic restaurants, some usual suspects are here due to the pressure of popular demand (I once heard a guy ask for French fries at a Chinese restaurant), so you can get “nachos machos” ($6.95/$11.95).

We were familiar with their piquant ceviche, but chose to start with a small Don Jose’s Platter ($8.95/$13.95), to sample a few things. The chicken and cheese quesadilla was es-pecially tasty, the shredded meat probably marinated; the pico de gallo, over shredded lettuce, had a stingy dollop of their buttery guacamole, making me want more. There were two cubes of mild, crumbly añejo cheese and two slices of brazo de reina, an oversized tamale, filled with spinach and eggs, and ground pumpkin seeds, which is available sepa-rately.

Caffé Itri

JOHNETTE RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 17:51:29 GMT

Enchanting Italian away from the Hill
At 18 years, Caffé Itri is one of the longest-running places on Cranston’s “restaurant row”, and for very good reason, as we re-learned on a recent visit.

If you’re looking for a change from the usual Downcity suspects, take a ride to the Knightsville neighborhood in Cranston. As you near the corner of Park Avenue and Cranston Street, the unmistakable aroma of sautéed garlic confirms your arrival at Cranston’s “restaurant row” — with half a dozen Italian-American eateries within a few blocks. Caffé Itri is one of the longest-running (at 18 years), and for very good reason, as we re-learned on a recent visit.

A summer evening midweek had brought many friends and acquaintances together to sip in the atrium-like lounge or to sup in the elegant dining room, with creamy yellow walls dominated by a large photo of the restaurant’s namesake, the southern Italian town of Itri, and a large landscape of the same area. White linens, terrazzo-style floor tiles, and contemporary glass lamps complete the restful scene.

After drinks in the lounge, we moved to the dining room and began to ponder our dinner choices more seriously after reading the specials posted in that ante-room. We had already appreciated the friendliness of our waitress in the bar when we encountered Ernie, our tireless and accommodating waiter. What a difference a competent and helpful staff can make to an entire dining experience.

Proprietor Greg Spremulli, second-generation Itrian, and his executive chef, Ramone Velasquez, have designed a fabulously tempting menu, from start to finish, with most of the desserts house-made. Patient Ernie had to make three trips to our table before we could come up with a plan. But when we did, it was a grand one.

Each side of the table shared a salad, a pasta course, an entrée, and a dessert. Even though we skipped past the appetizers — which featured clams zuppa or casino; portobellos stuffed with sausage; and cannellini beans with prosciutto — and headed for the salads, there were still 10 to choose from. Green beans with Gorgonzola and roasted pistachios tugged mightily, as did spinach with glazed walnuts and feta. But the mission fig arugula ($10.95) won out for both couples.

Our daughter Sabrina, visiting from Seattle, was the first to spy the tempting list of ingredients in this salad: mission figs, dried cranberries, grilled carrots, grilled pears, prosciutto di Parma, red onions, and house-made fresh mozzarella, not to mention arugula and a fig vinaigrette. She shared hers with her husband, Stefan, and Bill and I divvied up ours. We were all super-pleased that the descriptive promises really delivered.

The West Deck

BILL RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 27 Aug 2008 21:25:50 GMT

Not to be forgotten
Shame on us. There we were, scratching our heads over which Newport restaurant to choose as the destination for an visitor, and we didn’t think of the West Deck until last.

Shame on us. There we were, scratching our heads over which Newport restaurant to choose as the destination for an out-of-town visitor who wanted to see the town, and we didn’t think of the West Deck until last. It then immediately leapt to the head of the list.

It’s Johnnie’s favorite restaurant in that city, partly because of the usual friendliness and helpfulness of the staff on a location (Thames Street) that can be hoity-toity. That means a lot to me, too, but if it came down to choosing between their delicious jumbo lump crab cake and alert wait staffers removing dishes even when it’s not their table, the dishes would stay.

Memories, memories: the creamy saffron risotto; the pork, grilled to pink succulence; the calamari, every tender little ring gently sautéed in browned butter.

We had to have that calamari on this visit, so the three of us started by sharing an order. In its customary preparation, the default state appetizer has its deep-fried, pepperoncini charms, but even those patriotic about Rhode Island sometimes grow guiltily wistful about other variations.

The West Deck version, ($9; not backed up by the usual suspect as an option), is magnificent, subtle where the other is assertive. The buttery, sautéed rings are piled on a bed of hummus studded with currants and pieces of almond, and surrounded by pita triangles. The three of us minimized politeness in sharing it. Two-dozen wines by the glass gave us plenty of choices for what to have with it.

Other starters included escargot with portobello ($9.50), and baked oysters au gratin ($13). I also had the Bermuda fish chowder ($8.50) that Johnnie enjoyed on our last visit here. It sets itself far apart from other chowders, arriving with a small pitcher of Gosling’s dark rum and a bottle of Outerbridge’s sherry pepper sauce. I’d ordered a Dark & Stormy to use up my full allotment of rum, knowing how the dish would need only a dash. The entire combination was tasty, though the chowder was more of a vegetable soup, potatoes absent.

We chose a table on the portico, rather than on the marina-side patio and bar where there was live music, to make conversation easier. The windows were wide open, so we were comfortable, having a view both of bobbing boats and the busy inside kitchen. There are a few tables there and some counter stools facing the wide-open kitchen, in case you want to enhance your relaxation by watching people work. Even with its informality, this is a place with tablecloths rather than Formica under your forearms, a fit place for a date.

La Laiterie

JOHNETTE RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 18:14:09 GMT

Swell food, wine, and service
To truly sample the bistro’s offerings, we turned to heartier fare.

We first heard about La Laiterie right after it opened in May 2006, from friends who live on the East Side. Unfortunately, we don’t live nearby, and knowing they don’t take reservations for parties of fewer than six, we once tried to meet two friends at around 5:30 on a Wednesday evening. The place was already so packed (there are just nine tables, with additional seating at the bar and a countertop), and we had time constraints, so we reluctantly went elsewhere to eat.

We’ve yearned to go back, so we made a better plan and arrived just at the stroke of 5, when they open for dinner. Owners Matt and Kate Jennings have kept the décor as straightforward as the food: reclaimed barn board and windows, hand-made paper lights, a few framed black-and-white photo still lifes of cheeses. Above the bar are old-fashioned milk bottles, which are the logo for the bistro; there are many other cow artifacts in the restroom.

La Laiterie is next door to the Jennings’s incredibly successful cheese shop, Farmstead, and we’ve been longtime fans of their cheese boards at other restaurants. But to truly sample the bistro’s offerings, we turned to heartier fare. Bill was attracted to the “chef’s whim” tasting menu ($50, with wine); our friend Norbert chose the Mediterranean branzino ($26); and I the chicken leg fricassee ($22).

We perused the possibilities of appetizers, with “treats” such as char-grilled corn, a grilled sardine, or crispy chicken cracklin’, but both Norbert and I decided on salads to begin. Mine was “a walk through the garden” Rhode Island salad ($11), while his was Bibb lettuce with local blueberries ($10).

We were very impressed with these salads, both in the variety of ingredients and in the wonderful way the flavors came together. Chef Ben Sukle later mentioned that the restaurant tries to use as many local seasonal ingredients as it can find, and how almost all of them come from within 100 miles.

Norbert’s salad had bits of smoked ham, hard-boiled egg, shaved piave cheese, the aforementioned blueberries, and it was dressed with a poppy and banyuls (port wine) vinaigrette. Mine had greens, some of them pea tendrils, with baby carrots, two kinds of radishes, two kinds of cherry tomatoes, plus blueberries, and my favorite thing: small yellow ground cherries, cousins to tomatillos, but much sweeter.

Red Stripe(1)

BILL RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 06 Aug 2008 17:02:06 GMT

Moules frites for the masses
Now it’s starting to get scary.

Now it’s starting to get scary. When Jaime D’Oliveira was a teenager, he washed dishes at a Newport Creamery, the one in Wayland Square. A couple of years ago, all grown up and the chef/proprietor of the prestigious, upscale Mill’s Tavern, he opened the immediately popular Red Stripe bistro in former creamery location. So far, so understandable. But now he has cloned Red Stripe in Narragansett, in — wait for it — a former Newport Creamery. Uh, is this a business plan or culinary conceptual art?

This new place, which opened early in July, has much the look and feel of the original. Chef Matt Holmes and general manager Dan McComiskey were brought down from the Providence restaurant. Bière and coñac posters make the usual claim that this ain’t just any bistro/pub.

The restaurant bills itself “An American Brasserie,” beret-friendly. Acoustic ceiling tiles keep the potential din down to a murmur. Outside, a patio on the shopping mall side — with parking lot-obscuring foliage on order — has wide-open access to the interior, the AC-via-breeze supplemented by numerous ceiling fans.

The menu was a comforting sight, full of the usual items, both familiar and intriguing: the signature paella ($18), the humongous meal-for-two chopped salad ($13), and the herb-marinated lamb steak ($20). Fully half are seafood. Of course, there is the celebrated Red Stripe “Moules & Frites,” Prince Edward Island mussels with a cone of French fries in a full order ($17). Ten different preparations run from the signature version that includes beer, garlic, pesto, and cream, to the simple Billi-bi, with saffron, vermouth, and cream.

We chose a fries-free half-order ($9), since one of our threesome would be having fries on her main dish. The Mouclade version had white wine and coconut milk, lightly cur-ried, tasty as well as goodly portioned — a full two-dozen mussels.

Less interesting was the deviled egg plate ($6). The two halves with the standard egg yolk filling lacked enough mustard to make any of us eager for more — the usual compul-siveness with these appetizers — and the tuna salad was also bland, we agreed. The ham salad and the chopped lox, though, were scarfed up with no reluctance. Moist hot towels were a thoughtful touch with this finger food.

Pho Horn

BILL RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 17:32:11 GMT

Authentic Vietnamese plus
Strictly speaking, this is not a pho shop, like the more than two-dozen in Boston that offer countless variations, since it offers much more — nearly 100 dishes.

Pho Horn is an enticing place from the outside, with colorful neon bowls sprouting chopsticks, and the proud declaration: Authentic Vietnamese Restaurant. Inside, the attempt is to mellow the appetite provoked by the signs, as the menu displays a boy playing a flute while he sits on a grazing water buffalo.

Clearly, pains have been taken to tweak the interest of non-Vietnamese diners in the Shaw’s shopping center location that used to house a defunct pho restaurant, called Golden Nime Chow. You know Americans have been accommodated: when you call for a reservation, the person announcing Pho Horn pronounces the first word “foe,” as fre-quently mispronounced by customers. (The traditional Vietnamese soup is pronounced, “Fuh.”) Health concerns are addressed by the menu declaring “Fast, Fresh & Healthy,” and “We cook with water, not oil.”

Strictly speaking, this is not a pho shop, like the more than two-dozen in Boston that offer countless variations, since it offers much more — nearly 100 dishes.

Rhode Islanders still aren’t as accustomed to Vietnamese food as they are to Thai cuisine, not to mention Chinese. So bear in mind that although all of the offerings have Vietnamese names — some of them six words long and blooming with diacritical marks — all of the stir fried dishes are Chinese, and there is even a Korean dish here and there, not to mention Cambodian. (To prevent our tongues from getting cramps when ordering, all the items are numbered.)

The only disappointment among our samplings was such a Chinese dish, ga xao ca ry ($8.95), with announced although undetectable curry among a variety of nine vegetables, including snow peas and baby corn. The chicken was generous in amount but sliced cold-cut thin, rather than in juicy chunks, in a very non-Vietnamese thickened dark sauce.

Backing up a bit: I very much enjoyed our appetizer, scallion pancakes ($3.95), crisp triangles with a delicious dipping sauce heavy on the toasted sesame oil. We considered having the Vietnamese crepe ($8.25), which had been recommended, a mixture of shrimp and pork, plus bean sprouts and scallions, nicely sauced in a freshly made rice flour pancake. We’ll get it next time.

Read the vegetarian entrée descriptions carefully, because they sneak chicken broth into the noodle and tofu soup. Unusual for pho shops in our experience, from West Coast to East, a vegetarian option isn’t available with the 11 pho offerings.

The Cooked Goose

JOHNETTE RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 23 Jul 2008 21:54:17 GMT

Fun, friendly, and a water view
When summer rolls around, we South Countyites like to pretend that we’re tourists right along with the out-of-towners.

When summer rolls around, we South Countyites like to pretend that we’re tourists right along with the out-of-towners. We indulge more often in Sunday brunch, take a picnic to the beach, or find a place near a water view to sip and sup. You can do all three in quite wonderful ways at the Cooked Goose, near Watch Hill.

Three years ago, owner Jennifer Gibson took over a successful catering business at this spot — they still do catering as well as breakfasts and lunches — and turned it into a neighborhood gathering spot, with daily newspapers, wi-fi, comfortable couches inside, and umbrella-covered tables outside. The staff is upbeat and welcoming, the food goes way beyond the ordinary, and there’s even a water view of Spring Pond, an inlet of Little Narragansett Bay.

We often take these touristy opportunities when friends visit Rhode Island, and this time it was former locals Yvette and Gabriel. The Goose’s menu listings are so enticing that it took all of us quite a while to make our choices. While we pondered, Bill and Yvette were treated to respective carafes of caf and de-caf coffee, and I all but inhaled a cup of cocoa, liberally decorated with whipped cream and chocolate syrup and delightfully tasting of bittersweet chocolate, setting us off on stories of hot chocolate in Italy and France.

Bill has a thing for truffles, so the “Cooked Goose truffled eggs” ($10.95) were right up his alley, and his was the first firm decision. Yvette came next, with eggs Benedict Florentine ($8.95). Gabriel followed, after prompts from his tablemates for omelet fillings, with his own combo of mushrooms and asparagus ($7.50). And then I opted for the buttermilk pan-cakes, with add-ins of bananas and chocolate chips ($9.50).

The truffled eggs were baked in two cut-out circles of a large slice of country white bread — those circles were buttered and set on each side of the plate, reminiscent of goose eggs somehow. Fontina was melted on top, the asparagus was served on the side, and the white truffle oil was liberally sprinkled over all. Bill and I agreed that this was one of the few times we could truly taste the truffle oil, and it was delish.

Yvette, meanwhile, was exclaiming over the generous amount of fresh spinach under her poached eggs, the addition of sliced tomato, and the delicate Hollandaise sauce. We all nibbled at it and agreed with her.

Italian Corner

BILL RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 16 Jul 2008 20:57:10 GMT

A treat, but not every night
Italian Corner offers gourmet grinders every day, but from 5:30 to 8:30 on Saturday nights — and Friday nights, come August — proprietor Osvaldo Pirrò comes out of retirement as a master chef (Golden Fork Award and all) — to provide dinner.

We had to check out this place after Genie said it made her feel like she was back in Italy. Italian Corner is a market that specializes in Italian food. It offers gourmet grinders every day, but from 5:30 to 8:30 on Saturday nights — and Friday nights, come August — proprietor Osvaldo Pirrò comes out of retirement as a master chef (Golden Fork Award and all) — to provide dinner.

Deciding among the antipasti took a while, not because the list was so long (a half-dozen entrees), but because the opportunities were so compelling. That and the house-made tortellini in the chicken soup ($4.95) was a good sign.

Johnnie’s eyes kept coming back to the portobello al Gorgonzola ($11.50), and mine to the carpaccio di bresaola ($13.50), the arugula and white truffle olive oil getting my attention. Taking our time was encouraged by the flavorful and crisp-crusted Italian bread, made there, and by a good olive oil packed with freshly crushed garlic.

In the Continental tradition, tap water is not served, thereby not insulting your presumably refined palate. But San Pellegrino, Panna, and Tavina mineral waters are reasonably priced, at $2.99.

Our party of three was well pleased after we decided to have the antipasto ($12.50). Johnnie got her Gorgonzola, which was especially creamy, as well as provolone and Asagio; I got two varieties of prosciutto, as well as half-moons of salami; and we all enjoyed the roasted mushrooms, marinated mushrooms, and artichoke heart. The white anchovies were a salty treat.

The dozen pastas and risotti posed difficult choices. Unusual items included linguini alla Bottarga ($25), whose sauce was made with an unusual variation on caviar: dried tuna eggs.

But we went for the pasta Norma ($14.15). Thin circles of fried eggplant decorated the edge of the plate, while chunks of the vegetable were tossed with San Marzano plum tomatoes in the thick, yellow, fresh fettuccine noodles. Ricotta dura was shaved on top, with more melting within. There was enough for a delicious second course for all of us.

We were told that the most popular entrée that night was rabbit cacciatore. Other unusual items included the Venetian-style lasagna ($16.50) — with layers of Bechamel sauce as well as Bolognese sauce; and King crab fra diavola ($26.50).

Le Central

JOHNETTE RODRIGUEZ — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 17:43:46 GMT

A winning French touch in Bristol
Le Central’s décor, like its menu, is a mix of bistro fare with updates on French classics.

Eating out in Bristol during its Fourth of July season, during which there are almost nightly free concerts or patriotic ceremonies, can be a lonely proposition. Locals parade to those events with picnic baskets, leaving out-of-town visitors, like us, to thoroughly enjoy the offerings of a wonderful place like Le Central. A relative newcomer to the Bristol scene, it opened in November 2006.

Le Central’s décor, like its menu, is a mix of bistro fare with updates on French classics: black and white floor tiles; black wooden chairs with green seats; blueberry, raspberry, and mustard accents in the walls, woodwork, and banquettes. Three or four large planters, café curtains, and three paintings by Inez Storer, a friend of owner/chef Jesse James, complete the ensemble.

James worked in restaurants in Boston and Italy before owning two restaurants in San Francisco. He moved back to his native New England in 2002, and when the former Café La France space became available, he took the plunge.

By offering some entrée-sized appetizers, plus a “bistro burger” on the dinner menu, and by serving lunch and brunch, he hopes to create a neighborhood eatery that doubles as a special dining-out spot.

Like many new restaurants, Le Central strives to use local products, including lamb from Round the Bend Farm in Dartmouth, Massachusetts, Rhody-caught or raised seafood, and summer greens and veggies from nearby farms.

We considered the oysters Rockefeller, the warm goat cheese and spinach salad, and the charcuterie that includes duck liver pate and celery root remoulade. But in the end, Bill chose the moules au feu ($8.50), oven-roasted mussels with parsley-garlic butter. Served in a small cast iron pot, these mussels were delicate and sweet, with the roasting locking in their briny-ness, and the broth making a wonderful foil for slices of the warm, crisp baguette from Bristol Bakery.

I enjoyed a soup of “pressed vegetables” ($4.75), served in a small footed terrine atop a doily on a plate. “Pressed” meant that the cooked veggies, including celery, carrots, and onions, had been put through a food mill, leaving quite a bit of texture to what might otherwise have been a smooth puree. It was alluring and delicious.