Audio By Carbonatix
Pasta is a possibility again on Le Jeune Road, just off South Dixie Highway, at the spot formerly occupied by Tutti’s. The owners of Pazzia, which opened this past December, haven’t tinkered with the place much. There’s still a large rectangular bar in the center of the space serving as a lively divider between dining sections, which together seat 200, with two additional, more intimate rooms in back (one is for private parties).
But a few changes in décor, including colorful banquettes, new tiling, and a fresh pastel paint job, cheer up the room considerably. The tables to the left of the bar are brightened by the presence of windows with graceful wrought-iron treatments, if less-than-stellar views. The other, windowless side, has the more interesting visuals, an open kitchen affording a look in on the cooking staff. Business was brisk during our visits, with enough Gables locals dining here to keep that kitchen crew kinetic.
The waiters, too, moved quickly. A bread basket was whisked out to us within minutes of our seating, along with a roasted garlic bulb, virgin olive oil, and balsamic vinegar. The rustic rolls were warm and fresh, as, seemingly, were squares of focaccia. But after a while the latter turned hard enough to be used as grill-cleaning bricks, something that stale, microwaved bread is apt to do once it sits out. On our second visit, the basket was focaccia-less.
Taking into consideration Pazzia’s modest prices, I perused the menu with no Escopazzo-type expectations. The selections include soups, salads, antipasti, pizzas, pastas, poultry (chicken), seafood (shrimp, salmon), and meat (steaks, lamb shanks, loin of pork). While we accept that occasionally an item or two will be unavailable, and we trust the kitchen to interpret recipes as they see fit, we expect that the ingredients promised us in the written descriptions will, in some form, be included in the food that arrives at the table. Pazzia routinely dashes such hopes.
The antipasto plate (called an “antiPazzia”), for instance, was to contain prosciutto-wrapped shrimp, Prince Edward mussels, marinated olives, artichokes, roasted peppers, peperoncini, chickpeas, and smoked Provolone. The plate arrived missing the artichokes, roasted peppers, and peperoncini; the cheese was invisibly melted into a mound of chickpeas with snippets of black olives. This was not just a broken promise, but a sticky and unappetizing presentation.
The problem with the torta Italiana wasn’t that it lacked certain ingredients, but rather that it contained things it wasn’t supposed to. No big deal that the “light bread crust” filled with feta cheese, spinach, potatoes, and sun-dried tomatoes came with a heap of aioli flavored with more sun-dried tomato than roasted garlic, but the crust and filling were seasoned with curry, which not everyone favors. The pie was alright, but diners should always be forewarned when a dish is noticeably seasoned with this love-it-or-hate-it spice.
Nothing was missing from the seafood minestrone, the fish, tomatoes, escarole, and white beans all in a potently flavored broth. What once were white calamari rings and pink chunks of salmon in fact became darkened and toughened from having spent much time in the hot soup. Cooking fish in broth for a long period is a valid method of preparing a seafood soup, though a “light” version, which is how it’s described here, usually means the fish is added near the end, so the broth doesn’t become heavy with fishy flavor.
There is a way to get off to a good start here: Choose from a half-dozen brick-oven pizzas with thin, wonderfully charred crusts. It shouldn’t be difficult to remember this suggestion, as the room fairly reeks of smoky brick ovens. We tried the “rustic” pie with Italian sausage, potatoes, rosemary, wild mushrooms, and smoked Provolone. There was nothing whatsoever wild about the ‘shrooms, but the pizza was very good.
Another appetizer option: a starter portion of one of the numerous pastas. They’re not really offered this way, but since Pazzia isn’t beholden to the menu, why should you be? Actually the waitstaff graciously accommodated this request, bringing a half-order of penne funghi steaming hot to the table. The firm tubes of pasta were cooked just right, with spinach, white beans, “wild and exotic mushrooms” (not), and marinara sauce. Unfortunately the sauce dominated the few fragments of funghi, making this more like penne with marinara sauce.
Fettuccine and scallop carbonara, which we had as a main course, was replete with sweet and tiny bay scallops in white wine and cream sauce. Of the two additional traditional carbonara ingredients, pancetta and peas, only the former showed up. Pazzia really ought to give peas a chance.
My irritation at the menu’s inaccuracies might have been assuaged if the quality of the food was high, but, at least regarding the appetizers, it was not. The fair entrées fared better. An herb-roasted half-chicken with caramelized vegetables and roasted garlic-mashed potatoes wasn’t bad: The herbless meat was tender, the noncaramelized carrots, zucchini, yellow squash, and onions added flavor, and the not-a-hint-of-roasted-garlic mashed potatoes were smooth. Pistachio-crusted salmon, like the chicken, was hefty and deftly handled, but it was engulfed by so many Mediterranean ingredients (white beans, diced vegetables, chickpea broth, sun-dried tomato aioli, and romesco (red pepper paste)), that I pictured the pistachio paste atop the fish as pancake makeup applied to the star clown in a culinary circus.
Grilled skirt steak “Toscana” was on the mark: sharply seasoned and smothered with sautéed onions, red peppers, and portobello mushrooms. Plump polenta fries and a spiky chili-garlic sauce completed Pazzia’s one competently conceptualized and flawlessly executed dish.
We selected key lime pie and New York cheesecake, both creamy renditions, from a well-stocked dessert tray that also featured chocolate cake, apple tart, and raspberry cannoli. The restaurant’s signature dessert, homemade orange cake, wasn’t offered. It wasn’t available on a subsequent visit either, nor were many other treats on the severely depleted dessert tray. Worse, the slightly melted and misshapen sweets resembled snowman pies left out in the sun. “The ones we serve look much better than this,” our waiter sheepishly remarked. We passed.
What Pazzia has going for it are reasonable prices and undeniably generous portions. But that doesn’t justify neglecting to make sure that a portion coming out of the kitchen is as it should be. The chances of getting lucky, picking the right dishes, and enjoying a rewarding meal at Pazzia are maybe 50-50. Great odds for a horserace, but when I go out to eat I prefer better percentages.
