Grazie Modern Italian Kitchen in Audubon Park underwhelms with same-old takes on the basics

Praise be the meal that reveals itself as clearly bad, for it is clearly good. Easily assessable and enjoyable in a perverse way. I do love the definitively catastrophic dud of a dining experience. The knowing. It's delicious. So, grazie, Grazie — a recent midweek lunch with you was clearly bad. And though followed by a far more palatable weekend dinner wherein certain dishes were enjoyed, inconsistencies and humdrum bill of fare make this Italian newbie a bit of a square-peg-round-hole fit in a neighborhood known for inventive eats and discerning appetites.

Walking into the former Bem Bom space was bittersweet. Gone are the familiar faces. The quirky boho charm. The framed review I penned when Chef Chico was slinging bacalao and punched potatoes. They've been replaced by a wash of generic polish, by a twist of generic neon on brick, by a menu that reads as a tribute to chain-Italian homogeneity. Alfredo, carbonara, penne alla vodka, bruschetta. Balsamic vinegar seems to seep into every nook and cranny. A caprese salad reads "doused with balsamic vinegar." Doused.

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Photo by Rob Bartlett

Basic it is, so basic it was — for lunch, we ordered usual-suspect barometer bites. Despite its handmade dough, a taste of Margherita pizza ($16) brought a rush of roller rink, by-the-slice memories, heady with that cardboardy mustiness of yesteryear. Lifeless and unpleasant. I rarely leave food uneaten, even mediocre food (the curse of growing up with too many brothers), but a Caesar salad ($13), soggy with what tasted like Caesar-fied creamy Italian and fluffed with bland, waxy shards of Parmesan, was left largely untouched.

But the killing blow? Possibly the worst eggplant parmigiana ($17) I've ever put to fork. That's a lifetime of eggplant parm. Effort is involved in achieving this level of spongy, chewy gray. I'm searching for a phrase here ... "cadaverous con queso"? Yes. The saving graces were our genial server and a side of edible zucchini.

To say we were looking forward to dinner would be lying. We were apprehensive but curious. Determined to give Grazie a fair shake. As with lunch, we launched with fundamentals. Fried calamari ($16) suffered from several pieces clinging to uncooked batter. Polpette ($13), meatballs with marinara and ricotta, fared better. Nicely flavored and tightly textured but dryish, the well-balanced marinara and ricotta essential for greasing the wheels. Gambas fra diavolo ($28) featured plump shrimp over linguini tossed in a spicy red sauce studded with garlic and basil. It was properly al dente, piquant and order-again satisfying.

Thankfully, there are weekend specials. Grazie's owner, Nazih Sebaali, also owns Lebanese eatery Meza. The Lebanese know lamb, I like lamb, and I quite liked a Grazie dinner special of truffled lamb with pesto mashed turnips ($40). The lamb itself was easily the best thing we tasted — generous and perfectly cooked, in a deep mushroom sauce studded with shaved truffle. The mash, however, was victim to poor execution. A little pesto goes a long way. A lot of pesto goes a long way toward murdering tastebuds. After the meaty high note, we ended flat — limoncello cake ($8) that ate grocery store basic.

Basic: the word I keep hearing when I ask others about their experience at Grazie. Most seem to have been spared the unappetizing depths we discovered, but none seem enthusiastic about returning. This is what basic does. It bores and deflates. But basic is not irredeemable. Based on our pasta and lamb, there is a capable cook somewhere in Grazie's kitchen. Consistency between lunch and dinner service, between dishes, would pay dividends. A dash more distinctiveness to its menu. A sprinkling of wow. A challenging taste or two. Something that says thoughtful and inspired. That says Audubon Park.