A few dishes stand out at downtown fixture, but many others fall far short of excellence

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 26/03/2015 (4134 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Things have changed at Bombolini, in more ways than one. The long, narrow dining room has been sleekly redesigned, with chocolate brown drapes at one end, and a matching brown wall at the other. Banquettes line the outside wall under a row of striking chandeliers of gleaming metal balls; the inside wall is one long, almost geometric display of wine bottles which, one hopes, are empty since the space can’t be opened. It’s a cool, handsome place, but I still find the softly lit lounge cosier and quieter.

The major change, though, is that the open kitchen is gone. Rumour always had it that some dishes had come from Amici’s, upstairs, but now there’s no doubt about it, and every dish (we were told) is prepared by Amici’s chefs. But I doubt that all of them get the kind of attention that they do upstairs.

Two appetizers were as delicious as I’d remembered from long ago visits: four massive grilled shrimp topped by exquisitely thin matchstick potatoes ($14.25), and crostini topped by sautéed chicken livers in a savoury brown sauce with dots of blue cheese, but (a recurring problem) no spoon to scoop up the sauce ($10.75). The once fabled calamari, though, tasted more of crunch than of squid ($12.50).

There are fewer main courses than I remember — a mere five — and salad or soup are no longer included. Our beef medallions with portobello mushrooms ($19.75); veal scallopini with marsala ($17.75); salmon scallopini in a light, creamy sauce and grilled lamb chops ($22) — all were competently prepared with good ingredients, but none were special enough to lure me back for more.

All were garnished with passable red cabbage and pea pods, but also with a disgracefully hard, dry and almost certainly reheated roasted potato that shouldn’t have been allowed out of the kitchen. And although the prices are relatively moderate, the portions are also relatively small — so small that, unless you order another course, or fill up on the delicious house-made bread, you might leave hungry.

In fact, some dishes are smaller than many tapas. The three tiny, skinny lamb chops at $22, for instance, yielded less meat and less enjoyment than Tapastry’s four bigger, thicker and more flavourful chops, with their little cheese soufflé and roasted tomatoes for $17, or Blue Marble’s lamb duo (part shank, part rack) with mashed potatoes at $16.

Still, the main courses were more than acceptable. But surprisingly, the pastas — the mainstays of any Italian restaurant — were poor. Leaden gnocchi ($16.50) and linguini with salmon ($17.50) came in sauces that were insipid and utterly tasteless.

The only flavour in the spaghetti alla Barese came from the chunks of spicy sausage in the most anemic tomato basil sauce I can remember (16.75). Some freshly grated Parmesan might have helped but, alas, there was only the table jar of cheese — Parmesan, we were told, but impossible to judge since the jar was too clogged to get enough of the powdery stuff out.

Half portions of the pastas are available, and most of the full portions were a decent size. Not the skimpy risotto with seafood, though ($17.75). The four shrimp, two scallops and slices of portobello mushrooms that topped it were big and excellent, but the rice itself was undercooked, with hard centres, and overdosed with lemon.

The list of desserts is extensive, and expensive, rivalling the city’s priciest at $9.25 to $10.75. One was exquisite — a warm cornmeal cake with a fruit compote. One was delicious– the floating island. A third was a dud of hard, dry, overbaked and overly sweet meringue layers with lemon curd.

Service was attentive and friendly, but there was one inexcusable incident with the wine. We had ordered a glass of Frescobaldi red at $10 or $11 (I’m not sure which), but what we got was harsh-tasting plonk, which turned up on the cheque at $7.50. I can only assume that they didn’t have the Frescobaldi and had simply substituted a cheaper wine, without telling us.

My own experience with some low-end wines has sometimes driven me to strong drink, but in this case there was no joy in my perfunctory caesar — short, with little flavour, no kick and no garnish, not even a celery stick.

marion.warhaft@freepress.mb.ca