Holiday Inn
Ph. 722-6900
“So, where will we eat?” said my companion, as we headed
down the Parkway.
I was tired, so tired I couldn’t remember the name of the
restaurant in whose direction we were headed. It was my first choice because it
was easy; I knew we could get there quickly.
“Let’s go to…ahhh…oh you know…budda boom, budda bing!” I
said, not being able to verbalize the actual name of the place, just it’s
popular slogan.
Budda boom, budda bing it was (a.k.a. East Side Mario’s)
just a stone’s throw from Kent’s Pond in the Holiday Inn.
It was not hard to tell that East Side Mario’s is part of a
chain of one hundred restaurants. From the exterior signage to the elaborate
interior design and menu, everything had the look of being punched through a
template. Indeed, you can walk into a Mario’s anywhere between St. John’s and
Vancouver and virtually everything will be the same, from the red and white
chequered tablecloths, to the seasoning in the linguine chicken Amatriciana .
Inside, the restaurant reminded me of a variety show set, a
show featuring Italian/American pop songs from the 50s. The place was made to
look like a sanitized version of New York’s Little Italy. There was an Italian
grocery store (housing the kitchen), the façade of a cheap boarding house –
complete with balcony – and a miniature Brooklyn Bridge that spanned the
airspace between our booth and one several feet opposite. In my mind’s eye I
could see Dean Martin (in long white apron and black tie) working the tables
between Costello’s Imports and the Brooklyn Bridge while singing, “When the
moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore!”
East Side Mario’s had a nice ambience. Phil Collins (a
favourite) could be heard on the sound system. Televisions (sound down) hanging
from the ceiling were tuned to TSN. And, there was lots of positive sounding
chatter rising from the many filled tables. Undoubtedly, Mario’s was (on that
night, at least) a fun spot, an eatery with lots of energy.
Apparently, Mario’s freshly baked garlic home loaf is
“famous” or so the advertising says. I’ve tasted better in real homes but I
will admit I liked ripping off a nice chuck of their garlic bread and dunking
it into my Italian wedding soup. The bread had absolutely no “garlic” flavour
but it was warm, soft and chewy and did a great job of sopping up the broth
from my soup. The wedding soup had a wonderfully deep, meaty flavour, lots of
tender mini meatballs, spinach and just enough confetti pasta.
I followed the soup with one of the best dishes I’ve eaten
at East Side Mario’s, the calamari fritti. A large pile of lightly battered,
fried calamari rings was served with a small bowl of mayo (billed as peppery)
and a bowl of Arrabbiata sauce. The rings were tender and succulent inside the
crunchy tempura style batter. I liked the sauces but they didn’t really live up
to expectations. The mayo was very subdued and the Arrabbiata (Italian for
“angry”) wasn’t even mildly miffed. It was a pity because the shrimp would have
been complimented perfectly by a condiment with much more kick.
When I ordered my main course the server said, while
collecting the menus, “good choice!”
She was a very nice, very attentive server. However, I can’t
begin to tell you how much those two words have started to bug me. There is an
epidemic in St. John’s where those two words are concerned. It seems that
wherever I go, no matter what I order, every choice is deemed to be a “good
choice” or even an “excellent choice” by the server. Hey, c’mon folks, give it
a rest. I know you say that to everybody, no matter what they order and it
sounds only slightly more sincere than the old, perfunctory, “Thank you for
shopping at K-Mart.” Why not just stick with a simple but sincere “thank you”?
Please allow me to decide whether or not I’ve made a good choice.
You’ll find a section of East Side Mario’s menu devoted to
Mario’s specialties, like Hell’s Kitchen chicken. The chicken pieces are
supposedly pan seared and simmered with Roma tomatoes, garlic, spicy tomato
sauce, chili peppers and black peppercorns. It seemed to me that the chicken
had been dredged in spiced flour, fried and - at the last minute - placed in
the tomato sauce. I suspect East Side Mario’s use a fairly plain bottled or
canned tomato sauce, which is fine, except when they add their own fresh
ingredients to it, like tomatoes, herbs and spices, they need to let it simmer
for a time so flavour can develop. And where was all the spicy heat I was
promised with a name like Hell’s Kitchen chicken? This chicken was barely in
purgatory.
The television was playing a match between two professional
wrestlers, one in blue tights, the other in red. There was actually more heat
coming from the television screen than from my “Hell’s Kitchen” spicy tomato sauce,
as the guy in the blue tights spun the other fellow over his head like a
propeller and proceeded to slam him into the mat like a sack of potatoes. Ouch!
Speaking of potatoes, I very much liked the oven-roasted
potatoes that came with my chicken. They were crunchy on the outside with lots
of roast flavour and creamy tender on the inside. The medley of al dente
vegetables – steamed zucchini, carrot strips and snow peas – were quite good as
well.
The chicken cacciatore skilletini was remarkable in its
similarity to the Hell’s kitchen chicken. The only difference was in the
spicing. The Hell’s Kitchen chicken was just a tad spicier, but mind you, just
a tad. Also, the chicken cacciatore was served with corkscrew pasta instead of
the steamed vegetables. (By the way, “cacciatore” is Italian for “hunter.” So,
in inglese, it would be “hunter’s chicken.” Pity the hunter that came home with
that bird. The pieces were so small; if I were that guy I think I’d hang up my
slingshot and pursue other options.)
I’m a sucker for nostalgia, so I really got into East Side
Mario’s dessert Viewmaster. They hand you an actual Viewmaster (circa, 1960s)
and you look through it to see the various desserts on offer. Memories came
flooding back; I recalled the fun I used to have flicking through reels of Roy
Rogers and Dale Evans adventures, Disneyland tours, and Flintstones stories. I
chose the Italian funnel cake. (I never knew funnel cakes were Italian. I
always thought they were a Pennsylvania Dutch creation.)
Funnel cakes are fun. You find them at a lot of county fairs
in the States. They’re made by pouring an egg and flour batter through a funnel
into a pan of hot oil. As you pour the hose-shaped stream of batter into the
pan you make swirl shapes with it. What you end up with looks like a deformed
lightly browned pretzel. Mario’s came dusted with confectioner’s sugar and
topped with two scoops of vanilla ice cream and strawberry sauce. It was the
kind of simple dessert kids love and the kid in me loved it too. This dolce
delivered just the ending I was looking for.
Our meal at East Side Mario’s, including a couple of glasses
of wine and tip, cost $91.46.
Best Points:
Straightforward family food and fun surroundings.
Areas for Improvement:
Enrich the flavours in your tomato sauce.
Ratings Category:
East Side Mario’s gets 7.5 points out of 10.