I first reviewed Bella Brava soon after it opened in September 2004 and easily recognized that, while the stylish place was a tad over-designed, its soul was in the right place. Italy, to be specific. Much of that was thanks to the cuisine of Mario Maggi, a 30-year Italian restaurant veteran who injected a little modern Italian oomph into a restaurant that became a place to both be seen and eat well.
Then, early this year, Bella Brava went through a change. "We had different ideas about where we wanted to take the company," explains co-owner Dyce Craig. "We were looking for a chef who was willing to work with us on that." Maggi, a couple years away from retirement, was replaced by Brack May, a New England Culinary Institute graduate fresh from gigs in Miami and New Orleans. The restaurant closed for a kitchen remodel to suit the new chef, who revamped the cuisine. A new era began.
Bella Brava's revised menu is decidedly generic, with heavy emphasis on more Americanized dining tropes and much less of the modern-but-authentic Italian cuisine that Maggi put on the plate. The new food might be more accessible for the typical diner, and it might be more applicable to the future projects that Craig alludes to, but somewhere along the way the soul was stripped right out of it. Even worse, the execution is rarely up to par.
For instance: Bella Brava's crudo ($10), an Italian take on sashimi that is all the rage in New York and California. Thin slices of gorgeous tuna are paired with sections of grapefruit and a splash of chili oil. Looks pretty, but the complete lack of salt leaves the tuna flavorless. One bite of the chunky grapefruit sections is enough to turn the rest of the dish into mere texture. Deep-fried risotto cakes stuffed with fontina and prosciutto are plagued by the same lack of seasoning as the crudo, along with a tinny flavor that's a little off.
Done right, those dishes would be just the kind of modern comfort food Craig is betting on for the future of Bella Brava. But they're not done right. And some dishes are doomed from the start, like a crab and gruyere dip ($12) that would seem more at home at a neighborhood cocktail party. Why even bother with the crab when the mess of pungent gruyere drowns the delicate flavor of the shellfish?
An oyster stew special ($10) is a step in the right direction, the rich bisque-y broth packed with big, plump oysters. Comforting and hearty. And pizzas seem to have gotten a nudge in the right direction since the change, the crust chewy and crisp compared to the flaccid pies I experienced during visits under the old kitchen regime.
Entrées show more competence, if still lacking in verve: Roast chicken ($16) is doused in a sweet jus of sherry and mushrooms along with creamy mashed potatoes; hanger steak ($18) is under-seasoned, but comes with a dark crust surrounding the red glow of perfect medium rare; salmon ($21) is doused in drab charmoula (a North African sauce of lemon and garlic) and served atop couscous studded with nuts and fruit.
Pasta dishes bring both the best, however modest that might be, and the very worst Bella Brava's kitchen is able to offer. On the one hand is tubular bucattini topped by clams, beans and sausage ($14). The clams contribute almost nothing and the sausage is a bit industrial and bland, but the tender beans are plentiful and the pasta is dressed in a subtle chicken stock reduction informed by rendered oil from the sausage. It could use a punch from more vibrant herbs, but it's a tasty dish.
On the other hand is irredeemable gnocchi ($14) that should never have made it out of the kitchen. The dumplings have utterly disintegrated on the plate, more like a pasty mash of flour and potato doused in cream.
From the very first day it opened, Bella Brava was primed for expansion, the website prophetically listing a category titled "Locations." Although Craig won't say whether his future plans include turning the restaurant into a chain, the new chef and tamed menu make it likely.
But why expand a severely diminished brand? Gone is the competence of a kitchen veteran. Gone is the rustic and refined Italian cuisine that made a name for Bella Brava. What's left is a trend toward uniformity in keeping with a legion of other fine-dining joints, all for the sake of commercial expansion.
Sigh. I miss Mario. According to Craig, the old chef will likely head back to Italy soon to pursue a retirement spent raising dogs. Diplomatically, Craig recognizes that Maggi "got us where we want to be." It's too bad that his three years of work at Bella Brava have been lost in three short steps: new kitchen, new chef, new menu.
No soul.
This article appears in Mar 19-25, 2008.
