Restaurant: North Location:4579 W. 119th St., Leawood, KS Food: Northern Italian Service: Traditional Waitstaff Atmosphere: Modern, vibrant Price: Starters $8-$12, Pizzas $11-$13, Entrees $14-$30 Rating: one napkin
A restaurant's food should be a catalyst for good conversation and fun times. That's my philosophy. So it was a bit disappointing that after our birthday-foursome's meal there, we felt our good times were had in spite of a lackluster dinner.
The night started off well... a glass of wine at the vibrant bar at La Bodega on 119th street. The place was packed. There was a roar of enjoyable conversation mixed with the clinking of plates and glasses as exotic but homey tapas were passed and shared at the many tables surrounding us. In the distance, a server spun flaming stemware in a shower of sparks as she prepared their signature Spanish coffee. Brisk outside but toasty warm inside, we enjoyed an adult beverage and then bounced over to North, on the opposite end of the shopping center.
There, too, we were greeted with a raucous, buzzing scene. It was dark with strategically placed spot lights illuminating tables and the brick walls. Lime green seats, which would likely have looked cheap in higher light, worked to add a splash of color to the otherwise stark interior. I got the feeling North was working much harder to come across as modern and intriguing than homey despite its rustic food and northern Italian concept.
Starting at the bar here, too, we found a mediocre list of cocktails but a better wine list. I take issue with cocktail menus that go too far to please all tastes; case in point at North were examples like their "Sangria Rosso" and "Tuscan Margarita." Better would have been to have some actual Italian cocktails... why not a Negroni or Bellini on the list? Birthday boy Tyson ordered a Valente for $9 which was an interesting mix of rye whiskey, red bell pepper, basil, lemon juice and honey. He liked it but didn't seem to love it, the bell pepper seeming to have been an eye grabber but not actually prevalent in the taste of the drink.
What I like about the wine list is that North offers it by the glass, terzo (individual carafe) or bottle. When the table isn't up for sharing a bottle, terzos are a nice way to get an affordable second glass at a price slightly less than two full glasses of wine. And it's nice to be able to refill your own without worrying about offering it to the rest of the table first.
Our kind, attentive server came by and immediately set down a tiny saucer of olives--five in total. It seemed a little laughable to be given so few, bringing a humorous Oliver Twist-type expression to our faces. Regardless, being a party we were up for apps that night, so we set forth to pick out a few, ignoring the microscopic bowl of drupes.
The zucca (zucchini) chips were nice. Incredibly thin and loaded with salt, there was really nothing not to enjoy about them. And being zucchini instead of potato, they had a slight sweetness to their aftertaste I liked. Next up was an attractive wooden board lined with thin sheets of salami and topped with a pretty mixture of greens, provolone, roasted peppers and olives. It had nice Italian flavors and a good balance of briny saltiness against the earth, slightly bitter greens and their acidic vinaigrette. Of everything we had that night, this simple starter was the thing that stood out as my favorite.
Last starter was, what else, friend calamari. It seems to be a trend for restaurants these days to claim their calamari is a cut above the rest. The message has apparently gotten through that lighter, less breaded, less fried calamari is preferable to that of a few years ago which was all-too-often indistinguishable from a Church's chicken tender. North apparently had gotten the memo, too. Their calamari was indeed lightly breaded and fried and I was appreciative of the lemony bed of arugula on which it was served. Revelatory, no, but quite good and I'd recommend it to those who enjoy calamari and haven't tired of it yet.
Lots of restaurants feature a selection of pizza, even if not claiming to be a full-on pizzeria. North does so with an added bit of legitimacy being an Italian restaurant. I was interested to try their take on it, always craving a good, authentic Italian pie. Their style is a cracker-thin crust which I didn't hate but seemed a little disappointing. I had just recently tasted something very similar at Seasons 52, listed on their menu as "flatbread," which seems more apt of a name. My selection was the roasted mushroom variety which was too sparsely topped with mushrooms and I guess some onions though there were barely any. I appreciate when a pizza isn't overly-laden with toppings but there was little flavor on this one and I was left wanting.
Elizabeth's entree was quite nice--a pretty bowl of spaghetti with succulent, plump, juicy shrimp, delightful brussels sprouts and cubes of butternut squash in a creamy brown butter sauce. By the time I gained the courage to request a bite, it was somewhat cold, but even then I enjoyed it. I salivated over its simplicity and undeniable richness.
Tyson had the ambitious braised beef short rib dish, a big hunk of meat sitting atop a white pile of polenta, garnished with cooked veg. I refrained from trying any as this was his big day and there's something exceedingly enjoyable about eating every last bite of one's own meal. It looked tasty enough, the meat, though, clearly fatty. And after dissecting it for a few minutes with a fork, I ascertained that it was not the best piece of meat he'd ever consumed. He said as much after finishing, noting that it wasn't bad, per se, but hadn't wowed him, either.
In the end, we all felt a little "meh" about the meal. It was all fine, with a few high points (the salami/greens starter and pasta dishes) but the low-lights of the menu, somewhat high price and distinguishable chain restaurant characteristics had us agreeing it was likely a one-and-done place for us.
Italian cuisine is about simple dishes that feature the freshest, seasonally inspired ingredients. Few chains can pull off that kind of food. The food at North wasn't bad, but it certainly wasn't hitting home runs, either. KC is loaded with Sicilian-inspired Italian-American red sauce and garlic restaurants. I hoped North would be a successful foray into a more old-world Italian experience. It doesn't fail at its task but I wouldn't recommend its fish/meat dishes over Il Centro or its pizza over even Spin.
Restaurant:Quick's Location:1007 Merriam Ln., KC, K Food: Barbecue Service: Counter + Server Atmosphere: No frills BBQ Price: Sandwiches $4-$7, Dinners $9-$13 Rating: One Napkin
Writing reviews on barbecue places in KC is about as worthless as arguing that my dad could beat up your dad (we all did that, right?).
If you've lived here any amount of time, you've figured out your favorite and are unwilling to even entertain the idea it could have an equal. And in a way, you're right. We're all right. Because the truth of the matter is that most of the barbecue in this city is darn good, and our individual preferences are derived from the smallest unique components that each different proprietor highlights in their own recipes: the flavor and consistency of the sauce, the spices in the dry rub, the special side dishes or even the location of the restaurant.
So I'll give you my review of Quick's – my most recent new barbecue venture – but I don't expect you to agree with me. As barbecue goes, the bottom line is that KC does it well and Quick's sits squarely in the company of our proud tradition if you happen to prefer their flavors. It's just not my personal favorite.
If I were pressed to describe Quick's in a single word, it would be "mild." Like it or not, if a BBQ joint serves sauce, that sauce is immediately part of the restaurant's identity and mild is how I found Quick's sauce. They poured quite a lot of sauce on the boat of ribs we ordered (in the proverbial debate of wet vs. dry, Quick's apparently is all wet). And as Elizabeth and I tested out the sauce, we both couldn't help feeling like it was darn near flavorless. So thick and with that dark burgundy hue, how could it not be bursting with spice or tomato or molasses? I don't know, but we agreed the key flavor that we picked out of the Quick's sauce as we ate more and more was… apple. Well, apple sauce, really. And it wasn't bad—just surprising. The stomach wants what the eyes think they see and we thought we "saw" more flavor in that thick red sauce.
We've had ribs, brisket and burnt ends at Quick's, feeling they represent the essential flagship meats in the barbecue world. And without generalizing too much, I can say, across the board, they were mostly tender and lean. Not as tender as the best barbecue I've had, nor as lean, but in a very acceptable range. But in the meat, too, there were aspects we found surprisingly different than we anticipated.
The first of these surprises was the temperature of the food. It was luke warm. As if it had been taken off a buffet line or something. Pretty odd. Not off-putting or disappointing, just not quite as hot as I like barbecued meats. Secondly, though boasting a visible ring of pink on the thinly sliced brisket, it seemed lower on smokey flavor than it should have. It was a little baffling, really. Seeing that pink ring and with a good, soft texture, I wouldn't imagine there wasn't anything strange about the methods used to smoke Quick's meats, except that, perhaps, they use mild-flavored wood and not too much of it. Bite after bite, I kept asking myself where all the flavor could be.
Even after the meal, the toned-down flavors of Quick's meats haunted my thoughts. The conclusion I've finally come to is that the recipe-makers for Quick's simply prefer a subtler-tasting plate of barbecue. And you know what? That's okay. I went back to Oklahoma Joe's after my trip to Quick's to study and compare and had my eyes opened about just how far on the other side of the seasoning spectrum OK Joe's is. No two ways about it: Oklahoma Joe's is wildly strong stuff. The rub on the pork has a ton of salt in it. The famously seasoned fries are doused in salt, too. And the smoke is so strong in the food that a single takeout bag containing no more than two sandwiches can make the inside of a vehicle smell like a meat-smoking chamber.
So what did I learn on my trip to Quick's? More about myself than anything. When it comes to 'cue, I like a LOT of flavor. I want so much smoke and salt that I wake up in the middle of the night parched, with a foot cramp. I want to see my face and fingers swell up from retaining water. I want my lips to taste like hickory the next morning and my hair to reek of it, as I shampoo. For me, barbecue isn't about subtlety. At all. It's about bold, bold flavor and meat that has taken on a tender texture that can only be derived from hours upon hours of low and slow cooking. Quick's is for a more refined barbecue fan, I'd say. I don't know who those fans are, but I'm sure they're out there. And I hope they've discovered Quick's.
Parting note on the sides: we had baked beans, onion rings and fries. The beans will not impress, the fries and rings, though, are good. Thick and crunchy, both, begging for ketchup and lots of it.
Restaurant: Coal Vines Location:616 Ward Parkway (Plaza) Food: Pizza, Italian Service: Traditional waitstaff Atmosphere: Trendy, cheesy Price: Apps $6-$10; Pizzas $13-$17, Entrees $12-$15 Rating: One Napkin
Every now and then a good night's sleep leads to a point of clarity upon awakening. After sleeping on my first trip to Coal Vines last night, I had one such moment waking up today. It was this simple assessment: Coal Vines is the type of restaurant that was clearly started by businessmen looking to make a buck.
One look at the safe, small menu, a glance around at the decor and the second that crooner music registered above the roar of the dining room noise it was obvious that every decision made in the creation of the restaurant was geared toward pleasing the masses and maximizing "dollaric intake."
Coal Vines has one of the safest menus I've come across in quite some time. It's a pizza joint, dressed up in man-7's and a hundred dollar shirt from Nordstrom. There's just nothing original going on here. Apps like bruschetta, mozzarella sticks and fried calamari. Six pizzas, a couple of them white. Entrees like salmon, roasted chicken and a few pastas. Two sandwiches, chicken parm and.. oh wait, the second one is also chicken parm, but with tomato, onion and arugula added called, get this, The Godfather.
I can just hear the conversation that led to this restaurant concept: "You know what people like? They like fried calamari, pizza and Frank Sinatra." But here's the thing: that statement is absolutely, undeniably, 100 percent true. It's a proven business model.
Coal Vines was still packed when we arrived around 9:30. It was dark and warm inside with a lot of noise--clinking of glasses, banging in the kitchen and a loud hum of laughter and conversation; it was the type of greeting that makes one feel safe about his/her restaurant decision. It told the brain that it was in a successful, popular place where people want to be and are enjoying themselves.
We were taken by a polite host to our seat at the far east end of the restaurant, under the massive mural of those cliched crooners, Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra. For what it was, the mural was attractive enough - black and white, lit with spotlights reminiscent of the ones those two lived under during their working days - but I've had all the Martin and Sinatra I can stomach in Italian restaurants. They're played out. I shuddered slightly each time I looked up at them.
After an initial glance at the menu, we decided to embrace the cliches and ordered up the mesclun salad, fried calamari and a pizza. Why not review the food that the majority of Coal Vines customers will also get?
Lest readers think I'd written off the place based on my personal restaurant snobbery, I'll come right out and say all the food was good. The salad greens were lightly coated in the bacon vinaigrette. What it lacked in apples (each half had just two wafer-thin slices) and montrachet (two tiny dollops) it made up for with sweet, tangy cranberries. The calamari was nice and lightly fried, the rare kind of fried food of which I could eat lots. And the pizza, a 14-inch, thin crusted pie with red sauce, sausage and roasted red peppers, was meaty and delicious. New York-influenced, the slices were huge, almost begging to be folded Brooklyn style. Then again, it reminded me that I've had better pizza served to me on a paper plate on a street corner in Manhattan for $3.50. But it was good and I ate much of it.
We washed it all down with a sugary-sweet Coppola pinot which, at $35, was a little overpriced. The wine list was chock-full of grocery store names, including several Jacob's Creek selections I'd be remiss not to point out are often available at Sunfresh in Westport for as little as $4.99, normally on sale for $6.99. There is a list of Private Cellar selections ("Bad Boys at a Good Price"), but they, too, are mega-popular labels like Silver Oak, Chateau St. Jean, Trefethen and Cakebread. Spin!, quite honestly, has a more inspired and reasonably priced wine selection. With a name that nods to wine, Coal Vines ought to step up their wine game.
I left Coal Vines happy enough about the food I ate (note, they serve brunch, too, which from the sounds of Charles Ferruzza's review is a poorly done attempt to carry over the business RE:verse used to bring it at that time of day), but without motivation to return. It's a perfectly enjoyable restaurant that will appease picky, unadventurous eaters (read: the lemmings who pile into chains all across the country), but that's not what I seek out with my dining dollars.
Still, its business savvy owners should feel satisfied; I'm sure it will make plenty of money.
Restaurant:Chartroose Caboose Location:10636 Metcalf, Overland Park, KS Food: Philly Cheesesteaks Service: Quick Service counter Atmosphere: Comfortable and homey Price: Cheesesteaks for $6, Fries for $2 Rating: One Napkin
I’d argue there are few sandwiches that can provide as much satisfaction as the Philly cheesesteak. So much flavor. All that filling meat and cheese. A cheesesteak is an absolute gut-bomb, no doubt, but it’s the kind I welcome with open arms jaws.
Over the years, I’ve grown to love one in particular: the Super Chief at Chartroose Caboose. Discreetly located between a car dealership and Hooters near the on-ramp to 435 west on Metcalf lies this homey little family owned business.
The setup and décor of the restaurant have improved little by little since I first started going. It’s comfortable and clean with a mix of everyone from white-collar lunch breakers to families with young kids, construction workers and high school students.
My favorite selection, the Super Chief, comes with steak, cheese, diced onions, mushrooms and green pepper. It’s a huge pile of flat top grilled, chopped steak with just enough flavor from the veg and cheese to be really interesting.
CC also offers turkey, chicken and ham variations for those not worried about desecrating the classic. On our recent trip, I went for my hallowed favorite and Elizabeth grabbed the turkey variation which is surprisingly satisfying, too, but much lighter tasting.
Whichever you choose, do yourself a favor and be sure to order a cup of au jus on the side. I know it’s not classic cheesesteak affair, but it’s perfectly delicious; that puffy, soft bun sops up the jus perfectly, creating bites that positively melt in the mouth.
The fries are the go-to side, here… thick cut, always crispy on the outside and pillowy on the inside. Be sure to load up on ketchup and mustard to go along with them because the cry out for that sweet, tangy moisture.
Chartroose Caboose is one of those restaurants whose menu I’ll never even care to explore. I hit the sweet spot my first time in and gladly return for the exact same thing every time back. I'm sure many of their other selections are plenty good, too, but I don’t need ‘em. This is my cheesesteak joint.
Restaurant: Aladdin Cafe Location: 3903 Wyoming, KC MO Food: Normal Middle Eastern selections Service: Underwhelming waitstaff. Atmosphere: Lacking, but comfortable outdoor seating featured. Price: Quite fair. $10-$15 entrees. Rating: One napkin
One of the things I love about going to big cities like New York or Chicago is their diversity. Their culinary diversity, in particular, which births pockets of restaurants offering authentic dishes to clustered ethnicities whose relatives years ago immigrated and started a community mimicking their culture from home.
In New York you've got Little Italy, Chinatown, Little Fuzhou within Chinatown, Curry Hill, Curry Row, Little Manila... the list goes on and on, representing almost any ethnic group I can name.
Here in Kansas City, with a smaller population, we lack diversity on this level. Southwest Boulevard houses a concentration of Mexican restaurants, but few of them offer a menu full of the food Mexican people actually eat on a daily basis. Columbus Park used to house a small Italian population and now has shifted toward Vietnamese, but not an overwhelming number. We have 5 or less Greek restaurants. Very little Korean food. Almost no West African food. And our sushi is pretty weak.
Perhaps most diminutive compared to larger cities is our Middle Eastern selection. We have a few restaurants under the header of “Mediterranean” but certainly no abundance. Two hands are plenty for counting our choices for food like hummus, falafel, shawarma, gyros... ingredients like chickpeas, pine nuts, olives (and their oil), grape leaves and pitas. Not only does Kansas City have too few restaurants serving this food, but it has basically no standout known for doing it exceptionally well.
Midtown - namely Westport and Valentine - is where one finds what's probably the most notable restaurant in this category--Jerusalem Café. I've been there several times. It does the job. I'll give it an official review sometime, I'm sure. But it's probably telling that when I had my most recent craving for this kind of food, I sought a new choice.
Wanting to pause, on this occasion, and take in the glorious fall weather, Elizabeth and I stopped in at the little Aladdin Café on 39th whose outdoor seating had been beckoning us for some time. We decided to officially moved it off the sticky list of "we should really go there sometime" restaurants for the sake of a KC Napkins post.
The mission was to determine whether Aladdin was a cut above. I'd read good things on sites like Yelp and Urbanspoon from fans, but I trust your average reviewer on those sites about as much as a used car salesman. So here's my take:
Started with a cup of lentil soup. It was a stunningly beautiful bright yellow color and tasted of sweet Middle Eastern spices - turmeric, especially. This was easily the best lentil-based soup I've ever eaten. Get it. The smooth, rich, sweet curry flavor came to the fore nicely. Not too much coconut milk; just right.
Then we split the sizable Agrabah Appetizer Combo. It came served on a large platter, smooth dips across one side – hummus, baba ghanouj, genie dip – and solids on the other—two crusty falafels and two dolmas.
The plain hummus was good, but not revelatory. It came dusted with red sumac and an obligatory sprinkling of parsley with plenty of olive oil pooled on top. The genie dip in the middle, bright red with infused roasted red peppers and a dollop of sambal-like chili paste on the side, was my favorite of the three. A good spice factor and the red pepper flavor really sang. I would’ve enjoyed twice as much. The ghanouj was only fair. It had a bitterness to it that surprised me. Lots of tahini going on there, I believe. Maybe too high of a ration to the pureed eggplant.
The falafel were fun, with a hearty crust on the outside. Perfect deep-fried balls of chickpea batter. A little salty and soft in the middle. And the dolmas were good – better than the last ones I had at Jerusalem Café with tender leaves around loosely packed meat and rice. Not too dense the way they can be when they’re bad.
Having tried the whole plate, if I were allowed to customize it for my own liking, I’d eliminate the baba ghanouj and dolmas and increase the falafel and genie dip proportions in creating the John Special.
A basket of pitas accompanied the platter. The soft triangles smeared with rich dips filled us up quickly, and we were pleased that our waiter offered us a refill, though we declined.
Little room in our stomachs to spare, we chose to split an entrée—the Shawrma Platter. Here again we were served a large plate heaped with food. A decent value at $9.99.
What we got seemed quite different than what we were picturing based on the description on the menu, though. On the plate was the curry marinated chicken (no surprise) on a bed of rice with cooked zucchini, carrot and onions and raw tomato; the menu described it as curry marinated chicken on warm pita and topped with onions, parsley and tomato sauce. So where our pita and tomato sauce went, I’m not sure. Regardless, the plate of food tasted okay. It was a little bland, but not offensively so.
And that’s how I end up characterizing Aladdin Café, in the end. It didn’t surprise, impress or wow (except the standout lentil soup). The service was pretty bad, but the server, I believe, was new so we cut him a lot of slack. The tables outside weren’t particularly comfortable, nor has much of anything been done to cozy-up the atmosphere inside or out. But if you want to take your Middle Eastern food al fresco, I’d certainly give Aladdin Café a try. Just don’t expect magic.
Restaurant: BRGR Kitchen + Bar Location: 4038 W. 83rd St, Prairie Village, KS Food: Burgers and a good bar Service: Traditional waitstaff Atmosphere: Loud and lively Price: Burgers $8-$10, Sides $2.5-$7, Salads $8-$10 Rating: One napkin
What bar-b-cue is to Kansas City, the burger is to the United States as a whole.
In KC, bar-b-cue is obsessed-over. Done with infinite variations on the same classic idea and set of techniques by several restaurants, each claiming to have the very best. And today, across the nation, burgers are very much in the limelight garnering the same type of obsession with chef-driven, gourmet ingredients and chic dining rooms popping up all over.
It would be unwise for me to say this burger trend could ever manifest itself here in Kansas City to an extent rivaling King Barbecue, but it is clearly seeping in.
Swept up in the burger craze, I ventured to the heart of PV recently to try BRGR Kitchen + Bar and, specifically, to compare it to the impressive Blanc Burgers + Bottles. Blanc, having received 4 Napkins in the past, is clearly a favorite. Would BRGR be on the same playing field?
Of foremost interest to me was the atmosphere at BRGR. Prairie Village is a hotbed of young families and, as such, many of its restaurants feel more like a McDonald’s play place, teeming with grubby faced toddlers, than I like. Listen, I’m a 20 something. I want everything to be “cool,” “modern,” and “innovative.” Terms like “family-friendly” send shivers up my spine (I’ll grow out of this soon enough, I’m sure). So I was afraid BRGR would feel too juvenile.
It did not. The restaurant has a sort of warm industrial feel. A wooden sign and front door, wooden bar, wood-plank room dividers and wood ceiling lend a sort of contemporary cowboy toughness to the place. The walls were exposed brick and the floor a simple concrete. The materials and appearance were delightfully adult-appropriate, I decided. A great relief.
We bellied up to the bar during the short wait for our table, where we encountered a fantastic surprise – Free State Brewery beers on tap! Being Jayhawk alum, this is a sentimental favorite. Our Oktoberfests were deliciously malty with a crisp hoppy finish. Across from the bar are a few indoor tables and then the outdoor patio, at which I can easily picture myself relaxing and enjoying a beer sometime in the future.
Next thing we knew, we were being seated at our table smack-dab in the middle of the main dining area, perusing the list of 23 entrée selections – 12 with beef, 2 slider selections and nine non-beef choices. Choosing among so many different burgers was difficult but I landed on the Big Hoss. All BRGRs are a half pound of certified angus beef (75/25). Massive and juicy. The Big Hoss also came with a fried egg, maple bacon, Wisconsin cheddar, steak sauce and onion straws on a corn bun, with a little bottle of Tabasco on the side ($9).
The quality I found most remarkable about this burger was its size, rather than any of its flavor components. I immediately cut it in half after deciding there was no way I could pick up the whole thing without dropping half its contents. It was huge. Too big, really.
I’m a big fan of burgers with a fried egg on them. At BRGR you can add one to any burger for a buck (same for Blanc). The one on my Big Hoss was nicely done, with a still-runny yolk. The bacon was thick cut which would have been great, except it wasn’t quite crispy enough. Each time I bit into it, the whole piece of bacon got yanked out of the burger; I couldn’t get just a single bite to come off. The other slight disappointment was the corn bun, which seemed bulky, a little dry and stale. When eating a burger, especially one with a half pound of meat, plus two other proteins on it, I don’t want to be overwhelmed with a thick, spongy bun, too. So a less-cumbersome choice would have been preferable. Still, these nits aside, it was a pleasurable burger.
For sides, we chose “THE COMBO,” which allows you to select ay three for $7. We chose the BRGR fries, sweet potato fries and onion rings (other choices were onion straws, truffle fries and truffle tator tots). Here, again, we were shocked at the portions, as we were delivered two metal coffee carafes filled to the brim with the fries and three giant onion rings. The BRGR fries were good, seemingly hand cut and with a nice texture. The sweet potato fries were pleasantly crispy, too. Not mushy the way they can be when done poorly. The onion rings could have been great – large and firm with a heavy, crumbly crust – but the breading had a cheap-tasting Italian herb flavor that we didn’t completely appreciate. It seemed unfitting in the context of the rest of the all-American menu.
Half of our burgers and two thirds of the sides did us in, despite starting out with huge appetites. We liked BRGR a great deal for its laid back, fun atmosphere, good selection and decent prices. Truth be told, though, I went back to Blanc last weekend with friends, had an Au Poivre burger on their Farm to Market salt and pepper brioche bun and confirmed that its smaller portion and superior taste/textures gave it a clear edge over what I had at BRGR. I’ll go back to BRGR, but it will likely be upon someone else’s request rather than my own.
Restaurant: Pizza Bella Location: 1810 Baltimore, KC MO Food: Wood-fired pizzas Service: Unremarkable waitstaff Atmosphere: Tiny. Somehow vibrant & cold at once. Price: $9 - $14 pizzas. A little steep. Rating: One napkin. Barely.
Kansas City doesn't do pizza very well.
Now that I have your attention, let me qualify that statement. In other cities across the country, Neapolitan pizza (pizza napoletana) has had a huge uprising. We're talking freshly made crusts, pies with simple, artisinal toppings (and not too many of them), cooked in a brick or wood fire oven at super high heats, not a pizza conveyor. We're talking freshness, chewy-but-crispyness, and hints of char flavor. We're talking long handled pizza boards that slide delicious pies into and out of ovens with a learned dexterity. We're talking pizzas made with love.
Kansas City has a lot of Americanized chain pizza places, but there are really only about three different Neapolitan-style pizza places here: Spin!, Blue Grotto and Pizza Bella.
As I grow older, I find this style of pizza far more refreshing and enjoyable than its thick crusted, heavily topped counterpart that made up such a big part of my childhood (approximately 1/8 of my body is made of Little Caesar's).
So when I found a discounted gift certificate for Pizza Bella online recently, I jumped on it. And last Saturday evening, after taking in "The Social Network" (really good and interesting movie), we went for a long-awaited visit.
Pizza Bella's status has been a bit shaky lately. Its ownership may have changed, but I haven't been able to confirm. Those familiar with Rob Dalzell's other establishments including 1924 Main, Souperman and Yummo know that a run of unfortunate circumstances have led all three to close, so there were lots of rumors Pizza Bella would bite the dust, too.
A quirky location would seem to be bad for business. They're located in a bit of a no man's land half-way between the Crossroads and P&L. I personally like the spot, but there is no foot traffic there and if you're trying to cut through downtown expeditiously, you most likely aren't driving down Baltimore, either. So it's rather hidden.
Those who seek it out, however, find a quaint little spot with big front windows and a modern-chic interior of tasteful wood, painted concrete, white curtains and bright red accent chairs. A tiny bar sits just inside the entrance and the hearth of the restaurant, its wood fired oven, is in the southwest corner wafting delicious aromas that immediately induce salivation. For my taste, the place could use a little more of the wood accents on the walls for increased warmth, and sound deadening materials would be nice, too. But overall, this is a tastefully designed dining environment.
On our trip, we were afflicted with the misfortune of sharing a server with a large birthday party. These were 30 somethings with a white limo parked out front who were clearly excited to be away from their kids for the first time in forever and not used to drinking the amount of alcohol they may have consumed at such parties in their younger days. They were tipsy and unbearably obnoxious. Increasingly so as the night went on.
Needless to say, attention to our needs was lacking. Eventually our water arrived in a pretty bottle and we hastily ordered beers (Boulevard Pale Ale and a Stout). We were elated to find Brussels sprouts among the appetizers and upon our server's recommendation, ordered them plus the Butter Lettuce salad. The server was wrong about the portion of the Brussels sprouts, though, which was large and incredibly filling. By the time we finished them and the salad, we were full.
They were worth it, though. Piping hot, served straight from the oven in a ceramic dish, the Brussels were covered in pancetta vinaigrette and parmesan, flavored with cranberries, almonds and their own char. Absolutely killer. Brussels sprouts cooked this way are my all-time favorite vegetable, hands down (hey family - get ready to see those on the Thanksgiving table, by the way).
The salad was, unexpectedly, overdressed with a creamy white dressing. Described as "anchovy lemon vinaigrette," we thought it would have been less... opaque. Maybe it was the anchovies? Regardless, there was too much of it. Otherwise, the butter lettuce would have been nicely crisp and we could've actually tasted the shaved fennel, sliced radish and chives also mixed in. Great recipe, poor execution.
This unfortunate execution was, sadly, the theme of our mushroom pizza, as well. What would have been a beautiful, thin, crispy crust was reduced to a soggy goo. Caramelized onions, themselves, are a wet, soggy ingredient which would have been okay, but the mushrooms must have gone onto the pie raw and when mushrooms are first cooked, they release most of their water, which makes up 90% of the mushroom itself. This dirty-tasting water seeped into the crust and reduced it to an unrecognizable mush. A tragic murder of an otherwise delicious pizza.
Pizza Bella has all the earmarks of a good restaurant concept that just hasn't been maintained. Nearly everything in our trip was lacking. The entire experience felt like competing in a sports match in which we were losing by an insurmountable margin and failure was a foregone conclusion.
Walking out, we agreed that despite a theoretically good menu and mostly nice dining room, we weren't likely to return. At least not on our own dime. I'd love nothing more than to hear scuttlebutt that a new owner or new chef was pumping life back into the place, but I fear it's more likely I'll hear of it closing instead. I like Pizza Bella, but I'm not sure Pizza Bella likes me back.
