The trouble is, Milwaukee is kind of fickle about Italian.
Oh, sure. There's the Olive Garden. And Carrabba's. But those are big scary chains. With big scare calorie counts, big scary bills, and big scary ingredients in their big scary portions.
And I suppose, we have Mama Mia's. That counts, right? And Ann's, which is awesome, but... missing something.
And then there's the pizza places. Oh, the pizza places. Marco's, Maria's, Hup's, Balistreri's... but that's not what we're talking about here.
No, what I've been searching for is a restaurant to play surrogate to my beloved (and oft-visited) Victoria's in Appleton. No, it's not without its flaws. But, c'mon... have you had their pasta with Bianco sauce? Seriously.
So, it was a ho-hum Saturday evening, and after having watched three episodes of Six Feet Under back to back, I decided we should probably do another review.
Actually, Andy decided we should do another review. I was content to stay wrapped up on my couch and eat cold Spaghetti-O's all night. But I'm lame like that.
And we settled on Capri. Now, I had heard from some co-workers that Capri was the spaghetti restaurant back in the day. This intrigued me. There was such a thing as a restaurant devoted entirely to spaghetti? Really?
Well, yes and no, in the case of Capri. As their sign clearly states, they are a Pizza / Spaghetti restaurant. Glad we got that cleared up. But it's still important to note: spaghetti was once a star dish, and though we may look back on times when noodles and meat sauce got top billing with a smirk, I wouldn't be so quick to judge; I imagine, not too long from now, we'll see sushi bars as quaint.
In a time before the Food Network, before Celebrity Chefs, before Guy Fieri (Gawd, he drives me NUTS), spaghetti was a dinner to be eaten out. Sometimes in a swanky joint downtown, sometimes in a family restaurant in the neighborhood. Capri was (and still is) one of the latter.
Is Capri going to replace Victoria's in my hall of tasty pasta? Well, not exactly. But they're not the same thing, either, as we were about to find out...
Capri is housed in a smallish building on the corner of Beloit Rd. and S. 84th St. The building is, well, a bit homely, and you might not even notice it if you aren't looking for it. Relatively ample parking, and easy in and out from both streets make it pleasantly accessible. Once you're parked, don't forget that the door is facing 84th -- we ending up walking around the building before we figured that one out.
The interior is, well, homely, too. But that's okay.
I mean, it's always these places that have the best food. Look at Tandoor, for cripe's sake! If we went on looks alone, none of us would touch it with a ten-foot cattle prod. But oh, the food...
When we came in, the place was packed. Packed. I think nearly every booth was filled. That's a good sign. We had already checked out the menu online, and so we had an idea of what the offerings were. No exotic grilled meats, or heavy crazy white sauces. No flown-in-daily seafood or any of that silliness. Oh, no. It's either pizza, or pasta. And you get your pasta one of two ways: either red, or tetrazzini.
We asked our very kind, very helpful waitress about a couple of things on the menu: how was the Italian Sausage? Very good, she said, kind of spicy. How was the veal? Eh, not her favorite, she said. And the infamous manicotti? Oh, very good, she recommended.
So, Andy ordered the Capri Special (homemade Italian sausage and mostaccioli):
Lauren ordered the mostaccioli with meat and mushroom sauce:
And I ordered the Manicotti:
We all ordered our dinners, well, "dinner" style, which meant that we got them with two absolutely, freakin' huge hunks of garlic bread:
As well as a salad:
and our choice of minestrone or French onion soup. Lauren and I ordered the French onion:
While Andy ordered the minestrone:
Let's start off with the garlic bread, shall we?
Perhaps "garlic loaf" would have been a more appropriate name, and we each had two pieces to devour, and I really don't think the picture does justice to the scale of these things. Let's just say, with the weight of just one, a small yacht may not be seaworthy. The bread was liberally soaked in garlic-butterness, toasty and crunchy in all the right places, but incredibly soft on the inside. Yes, the basket had a puddle of yellow butterness in it that would make the Exxon-Valdez look weak. Yes, the oiliness got a little cloying at times. But all in all, this is the way I like my garlic bread: my grandpa Al used to actually dip his bread in a saucepan of melted "oleo" and garlic salt. So I'm perfectly on board with my anchor from the RMS Lusitania.
Our salads were nice, but nothing too out of the ordinary. A few slices of cheese, pepperoni, and peperoncinis were nice additions. Lauren, however, had the Italian dressing on hers, and it was absolutely delightful. Andy's and my ranch dressings were, well, ranch. I'd recommend the Italian, without hesitation.
Andy's minestrone was quite nice; light, with a deep tomato flavor, highlighted with the aromas of fresh vegetables. Lauren's and my French onion soups were equally tasty, and while I certainly love me some French onion soup topped with a piece of crusty bread and about two pounds of gruyere, I made an exception. The soup was well-flavored, full-bodied and had no hint of onion/beef base one-notey-ness that can fell so many other French onion soups.
As for the entrées, well, they were huge. And tasty. Huge and tasty.
Andy's sausage wasn't exactly what I would call spicy, but rather well spiced. Flavorful, juicy, and without that overpowering fennel taste that so many Italian sausages bang their chests with. If Italian sausages had chests.
The sauce that accompanied Andy's sausages (2) was equally flavorful, but never heavy handed. There was a little hint of spice there, too, and over the mostaccioli it made for nice traditional meal.
Lauren's mostaccioli with meat and mushroom sauce was delicious, with a rich, weighty meat sauce (more meat than sauce, really), and well-cooked pasta.
My manicotti was divine, stuffed with ricotta cheese and herbs. The manicotti (2) were slathered in meat sauce which served quite well as a dip for my garlic-butter boat-anchor. The whole ordeal was topped with tons of cheese and then put under the salamander to melt the cheese. My only gripe, if any, was that I had more sauce than pasta on my plate... would have loved just one more manicotti.
Our dinners were topped off with small dishes of spumoni ice cream:
Which, despite the fact we were completely and utterly stuffed, slid down just fine, and was a perfect cap to a huge, delicious, down-home Italian meal.
Sure, it's not Victoria's. There are no insane concoctions of twenty meats, cheeses, and asparagus. You will not find poached salmon on the menu. But that's okay.
Because Capri represents an old-school approach: a little restaurant, family-run and family-oriented, that does a few things, simply and well. And there's something deeply comforting about a good plate of pasta and red sauce, no matter what form they take. I'm confident everyone has a fond memory from childhood involving this perennial favorite, as I know I do. It's simple. It's insanely tasty. It drips with love (and garlic butter), and it makes for some awesome leftovers.
Sure, the offerings aren't highbrow. But we loved Capri just the same, and can't wait to go back again.
Report Card:
Atmosphere: B-
The interior of Capri certainly isn't anything to write home about. Music, laughter, dishes clanking, and dated wood panelling and light fixtures. Reminds me of my grandparent's house. But in a good way!
Prices: A-
Dinners were, for the most part, in the $12-$15 range. And you get a lot of food for that money.
Service: A
Our waitress was extremely friendly and helpful. I always appreciate honesty when recommending dishes, as well -- so extra points for letting us know about the star dishes!
The Food: B+
Good, wholesome, quality, stick-to-your-ribs Italian food. Nothing you couldn't make at home, but nothing would taste quite as good at home, either. Come for the pizza or pasta, stay because the loaf of garlic bread has completely incapacitated you.
The Details:
Capri Pizza & Spaghetti
(414) 543-5510
8340 W. Beloit Rd.
West Allis, WI 53219
Online menu and pricing available here (WARNING! Prices and offerings may be out of date!).
