Oy. That's Yiddish for "Don't ever put this Italian travesty in front of me again."
I'm talking about the veal piccata at Gino's New York Pizza Bar, which I visited with six friends last Friday. This restaurant opened just over a year ago in the old Franco's location. It's owned by the same people who operate similar restaurants in Johns Creek and Norcross.
I've only been to Gino's once before - for lunch soon after they opened. I had awful service and a decent calzone.
I'm not going to bother to review the entire table's food. It seemed pretty self-evident that sticking to calzones and pizza was the safest course. Two of us, including my Italian-American friend Frank, got the veal piccata (right). I shoved the dish away after five or six bites. I did eat the garlic knots and the pizza crust left by Bobby, seated to my right. Frank, I should note, did eat the dish with little complaint. That's the advantage of eating in a flash. But his summation turned out to be negative.
What was wrong with the piccata? The veal had been insufficiently browned, so that its overly-thick flour coating was a gooey mess. The veal itself was slippery and flavorless. This was served over pasta - linguine for me, fettuccine for Frank. If there was any lemon in the sauce, it eluded me, so the capers were left alone to provide any contrast. I guess this is what I get for ordering PETA-banned veal.
When our server saw my barely eaten plate, she asked me if I wanted to take the leftovers home.
"No," I said, "I don't have a dog."
The server balked. The table came to a screeching silence. When I got home, I fried bacon and eggs and told my cat he was really lucky not to be a dog.
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