Beau & Mo's Italian Eating House
2.5 out of 5 stars
2924 Fifth Ave. N., St. Petersburg. Appetizers: $8-$13; entrees: $14-$32; desserts: $6-$7; wine by the glass: $7.50. 727-771-3690; beaunmo.com.
"There is no more sincere love than the love of food."
That mantra is emblazoned across the website of Beau and Mo's Italian Eating House. Chef Beau Wallace grew up cooking beside his Sicilian grandmother, and he and his wife Mo (Madonna) spent many years running a series of restaurants up Chicago way.
Finally, though, it came time to downsize, and they sought out the warmer climes of St. Petersburg. And, last year, the pair opened a Chicago-style Italian steakhouse in Historic Kenwood. They've already got a dedicated clientele; the restaurant's hopping on a recent weeknight, and a table of locals celebrate a birthday with great fanfare and the whole room singing.
The owners brought the red, black and white theme with them from their previous flagship. The scarlet walls are filled with a series of humorous vintage black-and-white portraits of human encounters with uncooperative bowls of pasta. It's a welcoming environment where you feel the love. A group of six mounted wall hangings wryly proclaim, "le-gal-ize ma-rin-ara."
Out comes our bruschetta, topped with tomato, garlic and herbs. It's just what you'd expect, except the crostini are burned. Not just grill marks or a bit of char that might be acceptable — burned. This should never have left the kitchen.
Sausage a la Joe features slices of sweet Italian sausage straight from Beau's native Chicago. They're in a bowl with sautéed tri-colored peppers and onions dotted with numerous pepperoncinis and a light broth. It's better because at least it's not burnt, but the onions could use more caramelization for their sweetness to balance the strident peppers. Still, I never met a sausage I didn't like.
Burrata salad features sliced beefsteak tomato, basil, and a ball of creamy burrata mozzarella. It's all drizzled with olive oil and balsamic reduction. Everything is fresh, though we're out of season for tomatoes, which we must accept if we want to eat this dish. While the burrata and basil are great, again, there's a pile of burnt crostini. I don't understand how the restaurant lets this happen.
There's so much love flowing that you can feel the good vibe, but a burnt piece of bread is… a burnt piece of bread.
Three double-cut lamb chops are nicely medium rare and served upon a pile of mashed potatoes combined with ample swirls of freshly wilted spinach. It resembles a wild green-and-white whirlwind.
Although the lineup is more selective and manageable than many mom-and-pop Italian restaurants offering daunting lists that seemingly go on forever, they're out of pork oso bucco. I opt for Beau's signature double-cut smoked pork chop, which is on the website, but off the menu. They're happy to indulge me.
The chop is huge. It's thick and juicy, sitting in a retro sweet, sweet, sweet brandy sauce and topped with big chunks of soft plantains. A big pile of fresh green beans are overcooked, '80s style, before Americans discovered that al dente beans have more flavor and appeal.
The same is true of the linguine with shrimp, garlic and oil. The shellfish is fresh and on point with a nice, light balance of flavoring. Sadly, for me, the pasta is a bit too limp; it's another dish cooked by old standards before we found out how real Italians eat their pasta. I grew up eating softer noodles, but have now seen the light. Obviously, many patrons must prefer this approach because the place is busy even on a weeknight. One tablemate wishes for cherry tomatoes, or something else to make the dish pop. I refer them to the menu — the dish comes as described.
If you prefer your pasta past al dente, this plate's fine. Again, I'd describe it as old-fashioned. The garlic and oil are grace notes; I think the shrimp would stand up to more garlic, bolder EVOO and a sprinkling of coarse sea salt.
We land on two stalwarts for desserts. The cannoli trio is textbook Sicilian. The cannoli are small and crisp (think cigar-size) and filled to order with a sweet, thick, creamy cheese filling. There are no chocolate or lemon accents, only sweet cheese. I've never been a big cannoli fan, personally tending more toward French than Italian, but these are very appealing. Their size puts the dessert back in balance for me. Delicious.
Beau and Mo's version of tiramisu is cut cake-like in a familiar wedge. It's served free-standing instead of in its own container, so the layers are clearly visible. So many different approaches exist for tiramisu that it becomes very personal. I'd put this version in a middle tier. Though the flavors you expect are present, there's nothing about the taste or texture that zings. I enjoy it, rather than swoon. There's no element of surprise, just a slice in the safe zone.
I appreciate that running a mom-and-pop restaurant is really hard, but even if you bring the love, you can't ever let the details slip away.
Jon Palmer Claridge dines anonymously when reviewing. Check out the explanation of his rating system.
This article appears in Dec 1-8, 2016.