Although its namesake founder no longer runs the place, Pat Orlando’s Restaurant has kept up the standards that earned it a loyal local following. Upon recommendations, we headed out to deepest Johnston to see if its simple slogan, “Authentic Italian Cuisine,” rang true.
The place gives a nod to formal greeting, with planter urns bracketing the entrance like guards. Inside, the main dining area is pleasant, with glossy off-white stucco walls and Tiffany-esque lamps over wall booths that surround a grove of black bentwood chairs at the central tables.
The black-clad waitstaff lends a chi-chi touch, and our waiter was prompt with the breadbasket, perhaps observing the hunger in our eyes. It came with those little butter packets, but a cruet of quite flavorful olive oil was brought upon request. The Italian bread, by the way, was especially tasty. It came from the owner’s cousin, Palmieri’s Bakery in Cranston, so it being delicious might be a serendipitous bonus to keeping peace in the family.
A marker board at the host station announced the day’s list of $26.96 Sunday-Thursday dinners for two. That wasn’t a low price for the fish and chips, but was a bargain for the five other offerings: chicken Sorrento, veal Parmigiana, grilled turkey, and smoked chicken ravioli. Subtract five bucks for the included soup or salad, understand that the portions are dinner-size rather than bistro-scale, and an $11 entrée is a good deal.
We started off with two appetizers, since we didn’t know about those portions. The starters are mostly the usual bunch — mussels, clams casino, five pizzas, two preparations of fried calamari, and so on — but the funghi trifolati ($9.95) popped out to Johnnie, as did the broccoli rabe ($7.95) special. In the first were several wild mushrooms, from thick portobello slices to small shiitake caps, tossed with a light tomato sauce that didn’t mask the individual flavors. This was tasty and not overdone. The rabe, sautéed with garlic and oil, could be similarly described, which was a delicate act since the long stalks tempt overcooking.
The main menu prices center in the mid-teens, and several look especially interesting. The vitello alla Sorento ($17.95) has a slice of eggplant and ricotta atop a cutlet, and the double-thick pork chops ($16.95) are seared and sautéed with Granny Smith apples and finished in a fennel-spiced brandy glaze. There are a dozen pastas listed as homemade, but only the cappellini, fettuccine, and pappardelle are made in-house. The rest are from Venda Ravioli, on Federal Hill.
My chicken soup was a promising start for my main dish, with plenty of shredded chicken and stirred-in egg. The smoked chicken ravioli, from Venda, was delicious on its own and enhanced nicely by lots of sun-dried tomato strips and a cream sauce accented with pesto. But what captured my attention even more effectively was the side of fresh pasta that came with the entrée across the table, instead of potatoes and vegetable. The cappellini was al dente as only the non-dried version of the thin spaghetti can be. And the marinara, with San Marzano tomatoes, was compellingly tasty — mostly from what I think is more sugar than in Pat Orlando’s recipe.
Johnnie had the grilled turkey, which was prepared with white wine and olive oil. It was very good. There were two pieces that looked like chops, thick enough to be moist and marinated long enough to acquire extra flavor.
