Messina’s – April 2009 (dt)
6.56 - 7.5, 7, 7, 6.5, 6.5, 6, 6, 6
Messina’s Italian Restaurant is a
pleasant, comfort-food-with-a-zest, chance-to-recover, low-key
place to relax. A semi-walled alleyway leads past the bar into
two rooms. One is a sunroom addition with curved glass that
frames a dramatic view of the ski mountain and its untouched
western flanks. We were seated in the middle of the other room, a
larger space from which we could catch glimpses of the same view.
The ambience is a bit understated, with the look of a recent
addition or a re-do of a 30x30 foot space with functional but
little architectural character. Burgundy linens draped the seven
or eight tables, two of them slid together for us. Nondescript
sound-softening ceiling tiles were efficient but sterile. Framed
photographs of Italian sites, pots and pans hanging on the walls,
and kitschy Italian coffee posters decorated the walls.
Diagonally-pieced wood siding on one wall warmed the ambience a
bit. Still, the view of the mountains gathers first attention.
Meanwhile, the room temperature, at first, felt comfortable but
seemed to get slightly uncomfortably warm as the evening went on.
The menu is big, with many of the Italian menu names needing some
explanation for us and, fortunately, most of the lesser known
ones were printed. Nearly twenty appetizers tried to lure us but
knowing that salad and bread accompanied the entrees steered us
away. (On second thought, I might be tempted to try a couple of
the appetizers plates the next time instead of an entrée.)
Water glasses were filled upon our seating, with two baskets of
piping hot Italian, sesame-topped bread arriving within minutes,
topped with paper-covered individual slices of butter.
The drink order promptly followed, with a note from our server
that the wine selection might be diminished after the restaurant
just having reopened after a vacation. Tim’s second pick,
Gabbiano 2007 Chianti, was a satisfactory choice, a pleasant
Chianti. Two diet sodas and a water filled out the drink order.
After a couple of early glass refills, Deanna left two glass
pitchers of iced water on the table, a very satisfactory
arrangement with us water drinkers.
A choice of a house salad awaited, arriving twenty minutes after
seating. An eight inch plate was filled with a thin layer of
spring mix and spinach, with three curls of carrot, and three
cherry tomatoes. Choices from the list of salad dressings came in
a plastic cup on the side. Not spectacular but, again,
satisfactory and comfy.
The entrée choices numbered at least fifty! Our selections
seemed to show most of the range with the surprise non-selection
of beef. In order: pork Michaelangelo, grilled apples and
tomatoes, a whisper of cream (Tim; very good); Veal alla
Classico, thin cutlets, with spinach, artichokes, sun-dried
tomatoes, brandy sauce (Judy; very good); pork Parmigiana,
classic preparation (Ken; excellent, with a tasty sauce);
rigatoni Bolognese (Kriss; very good); orecchiette alla quadrino,
broccoli, scallops, sausage, shrimp, mushrooms, sun-dried
tomatoes in a brown sauce (Deb K; excellent; Don tasted and
agreed); seafood fra diavlo special, arriving in a large platter
with a mussel discard plate covering (Chay; wanted the calamari
on the side but they came mixed in; good); cappoloni alla
Classico – tortellini, in a vodka cream sauce, with the
other ingredients of Judy’s (Don; very good); and shrimp fra
diavlo, with mussels and clams (Deb; excellent). All the
non-pasta courses came with roasted potatoes and zucchini medley.
All in all, we all had a hearty, comfy dinner, with familiar
foods presented a twist of zesty difference.
After a pause, the question of dessert arose. Obviously, there
should have been no question, because everyone partook. The
sippers did their usual Frangelica and Sambuca. The
“usual” dessert-ers ordered an goblet of apricot cream
with sliced almonds and apricot liqueur (Judy; satisfactory; Don
thought so, too); mint chocolate chip ice cream with hot fudge
syrup (Kriss; good, and a good portion); vanilla ice cream with
fudge syrup (Ken, good); crème brûlée (Deb T, good); the
double fudge ice cream frenzy – chocolate ice cream with
chocolate fudge and chocolate chunks (Don, good); and a cookies
and cream ice cream concoction with fudge sauce and chocolate
chips (Deb, good).
Service was generally good to excellent for this level of
restaurant. Eileen was friendly, sociable (we forgave the
Brooklyn accent), efficient, willing to give more information.
Busperson Deanna (a current student at C-D) was attentive in
filling glasses, taking away plates, and doing so with a smooth
and self-assured presence. The remaining server, the deliverer of
the food, performed her job of delivering but became part of the
glaring service weakness.
Eileen had made it a huge point of taking our orders, in
sequence, and then repeating them back to us. Then, the food was
delivered, each dish was presented to the table, and the
deliverer, who was not the order taker, clumsily had to ask each
time who ordered what dish. It was a blatant mismatch of good
intentions and inane process.
Pacing was good, although a couple noted it may have felt a wee
slow early on. Water, bread, salad course, entrée course,
desserts and bill flowed reasonably well and culminated ... in
slightly over two hours.
The final bill left a few gasping, wondering if Deb K had it
right. Eighty dollars per couple, including all the food we ate,
with tip and tax and alcohol, seemed like a great value.
Although Messina’s does not have the required touches of the
next level of fine dining, it certainly was a comfy place that
did so many things right and remains a place to go back to for a
casual night.
The evening had started at the Monteverds.
It was subdued bunch, tired might be the better word, that
gathered this evening. The Adamses had transported a couple loads
of mulch, Deb was laboring at Nathan’s new house on the
Mohawk, the Karneses were working outside, Chay was fighting a
lingering cold, Tim had a back ache from the mulch, and so on.
And, a record 90 degrees, even if a dry heat, sapped everyone a
bit, especially after the 50s of two days earlier.
The six of us pulled into the driveway within a minute of each
other, stood outside for five minutes, examined the deer damage,
and finally made our way into the house. Ken and Kriss had
prepared a fruit plate, a cheese plate, and the crackers and
cashews plate-bowl. Accompanied by our usual selection of beer
and wine, we spent a pleasant 40 minutes catching up on news
since our last dinner date of six weeks previous.
Topics included Nathan’s purchase of a house on the Mohawk
River and DIY Deb, Judy’s trip to Palm Springs, the
grandchildren, Chay and Deb’s trip to see her mother, the
Monteverds’ trip to Myrtle Beach during spring break,
Don’s bicycling, a modicum of school stuff, weather, damn
deer again, mowing lawns, and more April stuff.
We left at 6:30 and the Monteverds faked us out as soon as they
turned right on Route 23. Then, the sneak play of DP8 history
occurred (well, the Karneses’ deception about the Freehold
House is up there too), with the Ken pulling off at Point
Lookout, parking, and getting out. Deb K had driven past, had to
back up, and apparently was accepting Kriss determination to let
the worst ever rated dp8 date (Kriss’ pick, for which she
takes full responsibility even though we try our best to reassure
her) be given a chance to improve with a rare second visit.
Falling hook, line, and sinker, the other car almost emptied out
before the deception was revealed. Finally, re-embarking, the
Monteverds took the long way, via South Street, to
Messina’s, at the far end of town.
Kriss had made the reservation based on the recommendation of
Deanna, and we knew the bartender (Deanna’s mom, and also a
former student at C-D).
Innuendos were dang sparse, probably the result of tired brains.
However, ....