Il Vesco Vino: Good for a glass of wine and an appetizer

Seems like every magazine and paper Lewis opened in the last month or so had a review of Il Vesco Vino, the Marchionda-family-and-others restaurant that swept into the Vintage’s old digs on Selby Avenue in St. Paul. The Marchiondas own I Nonni in Lilydale, which probably serves the best authentic Italian (or Roman, specifically) food in the state. Il Vesco Vino was, to everyone’s understanding, supposed to be I Nonni’s more inexpensive and accessible partner.

Inexpensive it is (in the upscale-ish dining category). But every review—and every friend of Lewis' that had eaten there—reported that needed work overall, and on the entrees, specifically. Lewis figured since it had been open since October, they might have some of that ironed out. Sadly, from the two entrees Pops and he ordered last Friday, it appears they don’t.

It’s difficult to root for something and just have it not deliver on expectations. Lewis stopped being a Viking's fan for this very reason. Lewis rooted for the old Vintage, but wasn’t surprised when it folded because it had been in decline for some time. He roots for Il Vesco Vino, too—he wants to see the old mansion remain a restaurant and wine bar, rather than the horrifying alternatives: broken into condos, apartments or office space.

Not everything at Il Vesco Vino was a disaster, however. While Lewis finds calamari to be about as novel as French fries these days, he recognizes some might interpret that viewpoint as high snobbery, so when Pops, who’s been on a calamari kick of late, ordered up a plate, Lewis politely said, “Sure,” and suggested they also order the beef carpaccio appetizer.

Both were quite good, the carpaccio with chopped arugula and parmesan cheese and drizzled with lemon juice and olive oil; and the calamari breaded and fried perfectly—not chewy at all—although, in Lewis’ opinion, the cooks went a bit heavy on the sea salt. Little did he know that was what more literate types like to call “foreshadowing.”

Yes, like the recent StarTribune review (and others since the restaurant opened) noted, the entrees were the weak link in the chain. Or, a more accurate comparison for Lewis and Pops' meals would be the bridge washed out in the road from appetizer to dessert. Pops ordered one of the specials of the evening, seared flank steak thinly sliced served with, from what they could tell, hunks of eggplant. It was a pasta dish, the pasta being pappardelle, the nice wide noodle. By the time Lewis and Pops ordered, however, the server said it was now being prepared with spaghetti noodles. Bad idea. Now, fault goes equally to Pops. He shouldn’t have ordered it, but he did, and what he got was something very unremarkable indeed, what little meat there was lost in the pile of spaghetti noodles. Nothing worked together in the dish.

This note should be delivered to the restaurant: If you are out of the pasta that provides the base for a pasta special, you are out of that pasta special.

Lewis, after reading all the mediocre reviews, was suspicious of the kitchen’s ability to properly cook the unforgiving hangar steak (one of the specials), and after consuming a large amount of beef carpaccio, decided another mammal should be sampled and ordered the lamb shank. His rationale was, “How can you fuck up braising?”

It’s unfortunate that the Italian word for shank—so I'm told—is “stinco,” and was used in the dish's title: Stinco di Abbachio. Unfortunate because the English slang “stink-o” could have interchanged, and because the joke is so easy. From appearance alone, this dish was wrong. It sounded good to Lewis: the braised shank with golden raisin and shaved grilled fennel. What appeared before him was the shank smothered in brown sauce with what appeared to be a pile of grilled onions on top. Not pretty. Not tasty, either. The thick gravy-sauce was merely a vehicle for salt, that overpowering flavor broken by a measly number of raisins. Lewis scraped the goo out of the way to get to the meat, which was very tender and delicious when not polluted by the sauce. The pureed potatoes sat in a pool of butter, and were not pureed, as far as Lewis could tell. Or maybe they were, but they had the same wall-plaster consistency of those served at many of his family's Thanksgiving meals. Not that Lewis cares much whether his mashed potatoes are, in fact, pureed. But they should have flavor. These did not. Lewis couldn’t help but think about the 19 dollars Il Vesco Vino would extract for this lamb shank meal, and how that 19 dollars would have been much better spent for the immensely satisfying Duck Ekaterina at Moscow on the Hill about three blocks to the east. Lewis nearly wept, but thought it poor form in front of his father, who, like a dilligent scientist, was trying to identify items in his pasta.

Dessert was, while not anything spectacular, at least a return to normal flavor profiles. The misnamed chocolate mousse is actually a chocolate cake of sorts with a hazelnut sauce and whipped cream, and soothed Lewis' salt-coated tongue nicely. Pops ordered the gelato selection, scoops of chocolate, lavender and vanilla with strawberry. Also tasty. With dessert, Lewis ordered a glass of the Quinta do Noval 20-year tawny port, which was unpleasant. Lewis will stick to his Taylor Fladgate when it’s available. Lewis also noted that the brand was misspelled on the menu as Quinto. Or maybe it wasn’t, and it’s a cheap knock off. Who knows what the problem was, but by that time, our server was getting ready to close out—it was late, after all.

Which brings us to a point about the server: she did mostly the right things, and was pleasant. She asked how the meals tasted, and here is where Lewis and Pops, as diners, failed. “Oh, fine,” Pops said, taking Lewis aback. Pops is famous for his truthful—yet respectful—critiques in restaurants. “Not good,” Lewis has heard him say, or “Could be better, honestly.” Lewis, confused and not wanting to disrupt the evening’s flow, merely nodded in agreement.

Still, through the experience, Lewis wishes Il Vesco Vino well. there is great potential, and there was a high point of the night: The bottle of Micante Capalbio he and Pops shared was excellent. He hopes that things get ironed out in the kitchen, which could happen if the Marchiondas loaned Chef Filippo Caffari from I Nonni out for a day or two just to watch the kitchen and inject some logic. Four months in, the menu should be hitting its stride. Plans are, for the summer, to build an outdoor brick pizza oven on the patio. That will probably cause Lewis to tip-toe over from his residence a block away. Hopefully a new menu or a new chef will have the restaurant in top form.

Comments

[Mantooth]

Been there 3 times now and have to agree. My first trip we did 2 appetizers - the calzoncini and something else. Everything tasted just so FRIED. I loved the Vintage for it's atmosphere and congeniality. I hope Il Vesco Vino maintains that. I love the quartinos and mezzo litros of vino. And you can't beat that patio. I'm stoked to hear about plans for a brick oven!

[cK]

Sad experience. I've yet to go in there and maybe I'll stay away a little longer....But the duck ekaterrina! Any mention of that makes me happy. And as it's only 300 feet from my apartment, that Moscow (or MOTH as some of us say when we go to get "MOTHified" on cocktails), well, maybe I'll stop in this eve. Hmmm.
-cK