Restaurants have personalities. Some (Racines, Lucille’s) are extroverts, popular and accessible. Some (Domo, Z Cuisine) are introverts, focused and intense.
Some are austere (Potager), some are extravagant (Ocean), some are charming (Duo), some are sexy (Parallel 17).
And some, like Venice Ristorante in LoDo, are just plain confident.
Occupying a well-trod corner at Wynkoop and 17th streets, Venice (a newish outpost of the longtime Greenwood Village eatery) first proclaims itself with its flashy decor.
The centerpiece, a huge glass wine vault (left over from the previous occupant, Adega) is flanked by a sprawling bar and spacious dining room, and buttressed by an outdoor patio and two private dining areas, the cooler of which is located right in the kitchen.
Sparkling glass, glowing multicolored lighting, wraparound windows onto the street and a sleek bar make it clear: Venice is no wallflower of a restaurant.
Need more proof? Check out the colossus of a menu, which stretches over several pages, each dense with choices.
Big menus scare me. A smaller menu reassures me that the kitchen is focused and the mission is clear. Too many options and I don’t know what to do. It can’t all be good.
And, in truth, much of Venice’s chaotic menu is forgettable.
But if you’re patient enough to sift through the chaos and order the right stuff, you can have surprisingly good food here.
Start with the antipasto plate, a happy assembly of salami, artichokes, olives and other Mediterranean treats, or a cup of light-
but-rich minestrone soup. If it’s chilly out, have the San Marco polenta appetizer, soft and garlicky and mushroomy.
As for salad, choose the spinach, a refreshing mess of tender baby leaves underneath a pleasantly bitter dressing.
Follow with a dish of Venice’s homemade fresh pasta, supple and velvety but still al dente. The tagliatelli with sausage, a sweet-
spicy tummy filler, was one of the best.
Also noteworthy were the ravioli. Two of the better ones were the triangoli, or triangle-shaped pockets filled with roasted duck and topped with a marsala sauce, and the gondole, or gondola-shaped pockets with lobster and sweet rock shrimp. Both had nicely balanced fillings that weren’t, as in so many other ravioli, oversalted.
(When we ordered the gondole pasta, my overactive imagination took a wrong turn: I was thinking Vail, with little gondola-car shaped pockets of pasta strung along a spaghetti cable. My friend Steve patiently reminded me that those little boats in the canals of Venice are also called gondolas, a more likely inspiration for the shape. He was right, of course. Duh.)
Note: To a dish, the pastas were very heavily sauced. Extra sauce pleases patrons, but too much is too much. Venice’s intensely flavored sauces threatened to drown out the subtle textures of the pasta. Tip: Brush aside excess sauce as soon as your plate is delivered, then enjoy your pasta.
Clean-plate-clubbers will have no trouble with the light, airy gnocchi. Smaller than your average gnocchi, Venice’s satisfied, without overfilling like gnocchi can do.
Also good: Veal scalloppine, drenched in a tangy lemon-caper wine sauce, a friendly game of brine versus butter played out on a succulent field of veal.
The wine list is also big, if not flag-
wavingly unique. It represents all of Italy’s greatest hits, from pinot grigio to barbaresco to chianti.
Pitfalls on the expansive menu are mostly predictable. Like the risotto, which few restaurant kitchens are able to nail. On the two occasions I’ve had risotto at Venice, it’s been soupy and chewy. Make it at home instead; with little effort, you’ll pull off a better version.
Likewise, you won’t miss much if you don’t order the chicken cacciatore or the chicken with mushrooms. Same goes for sandwiches. For a better downtown lunch, grab a sandwich at Ink! Coffee and have an impromptu picnic.
Self-service might be a safer bet anyway. Because while the service at Venice is often adequate and passable, at times it has been unpredictable, untidy and spastic.
Take the dinner I had there with my mother several weeks ago. Our experience may not be indicative of what goes on at Venice every night, but it happened to us.
When Mom and I arrived, the host station was unmanned. After about two minutes (and eye contact with two employees), a waiter poked his head around a dividing wall and told us we’d be seated soon.
Some time later, a hostess came out to ask us to wait a moment, then vanished. Some time later she returned to lead us to our table in the half-empty dining room.
“I’ll be right back with menus,” she fibbed. We didn’t expect her to hurry, and she didn’t.
By the time our server finally introduced himself to us, we knew to seize the moment and order while we had him. But it was several minutes before we saw our first glass of wine.
Another five, and Mom’s salad was delivered, but not my polenta appetizer. I told her not to wait; and even though she’s a slow eater, she finished it long before my app made it to the table. I was only on my second (albeit tasty) bite when our entrees arrived. Our server simply removed my polenta out from under me, mid-bite, and plopped down my veal.
I shrugged and dug right in; I still had my fork in my hand. He smiled, slid Mom’s risotto onto the table and disappeared.
Only, Mom hadn’t ordered risotto, she’d ordered gnocchi.
When he returned several minutes later to see how we were doing, she told him that although the risotto looked delicious, it wasn’t what she’d ordered.
He smiled again and took it away, returning quickly with the gnocchi, which he nearly dumped into her lap. “It’s so hot it’s burning me!” he exclaimed.
(To be fair, better too hot than too cold. And as noted, the gnocchi were savory and light.)
After clearing our entree dishes, our server asked if we wanted to “bother with” dessert. We did, so he wandered off to find dessert menus. Mom cupped her hands around her mouth to shout an order for a decaf cappuccino. She knew it would be awhile before she got another chance.
“I suppose they mean well,” sighed Mom as we watched a server do a shot with some patrons at a table a few seats away. “And the valet guys out front are doing a great job.”
Ever the diplomat is Mom.
On the way out, we agreed that we’d had a good time, service foibles and all. After all, it wasn’t a special occasion, just a Saturday-night dinner downtown.
Besides, we decided, Venice deserved the benefit of the doubt. They’d probably just had an “off” night.
But if it had been a big night that we’d been looking forward to and saving up for, Venice’s “off” night would have let us down.
Does Venice merit the confidence it exudes? Nearly. Some dishes, especially the pastas, are well-executed and satisfying. It’s worth a visit or two.
But before it takes its place as one of Denver’s finest restaurants, Venice still has a few personality kinks to work out.
Dining critic Tucker Shaw can be reached at 303-820-1958 or at dining@denverpost.com.
Venice Ristorante
Italian
1700 Wynkoop St.; 303-534-2222
**|Very Good
Atmosphere: Stylish, contemporary downtown restaurant with a multilevel dining room and sleek appointments. Music, mostly pop-opera (think Il Divo and Andrea Bocelli) is too loud.
Service: Ranges from satisfactory to sloppy, depending on your server and how full (or empty) the restaurant is. Come at lunch when it’s less crowded.
Wine: Plenty to choose from, mostly Italian bottles. Some California juice too.
Plates: Pasta plates, around $13-$18. Other entrees around $18-$24.
Hours: Lunch: 11 a.m.-3 p.m. Monday-Friday. Dinner: 4-10 p.m. Sunday-Thursday, 4-11 p.m. Friday and Saturday.
Details: Valet parking. Good for groups; request the private table back in the kitchen. Never crowded at lunch.
Three visits.
Our star system:
****: Exceptional
***: Great
**: Very good
*: Good
No stars: Needs work
