One of the first things you’ll notice about Shells & Sauce, a half-year-old neighborhood Italian restaurant in the Congress Park neighborhood, is that it’s noisy.
It’s not noisy for the bad reasons: not because there’s an unmuffled exhaust system overhead, not because it’s on a busy intersection, not because the radio’s turned up too loud (even though the ’70s disco they were playing last time I was there was a little too, I don’t know, 1998).
No, Shells & Sauce is noisy for the right reasons.
It’s noisy with the sounds of customers, of conversations, jokes, secrets, arguments, gossip, laughter.
It’s noisy with the sounds of restaurant service, of plates landing on tables, of order-ups being shouted through the passthrough, of cocktails shaking behind the bar, of glasses crashing to the floor.
It’s noisy with sizzle and spatter from the open kitchen.
Shells & Sauce is noisy because it’s busy and crowded, mostly with people from the neighborhood, most of them having a good time.
Which, in my view, is an entirely appropriate reason to be noisy.
The Shells & Sauce menu is clear. Some might call it boring, but I appreciate that it isn’t trying too hard. This is simple, straightforward urban-Italian cuisine, with basic staples like spaghetti with marinara sauce and linguine with clams and chicken piccata alongside a couple slightly more heady creations like lobster ravioli and a pork chop with a blue-cheese sauce.
My favorite entree was the veal Parmigiana (their spelling), a resplendent, crispy, amber-brown breaded-and- baked slab of succulent veal and provolone cheese. It was served, as it should be, with spaghetti in marinara sauce. The sauce was tomatoey and slightly piquant, an able condiment for the veal even if the pasta was slightly overcooked.
Also tasty and unique was the lamb meatloaf, a fine wintertime supper with a pleasantly sweet glaze and overtones of oregano. Potatoes and carrots rounded out the plate.
The delicate but filling lobster ravioli surprised me, doused—not drowned—in a fragrant chardonnay cream sauce and dotted with caramelized shallots. And the salmon steak, if slightly overglazed with balsamic vinegar (which fought with my wine), was beautifully cooked.
Sadly, the wild mushroom-Marsala sauce (available over chicken or veal), wimpy in flavor and burdened with rubbery mushrooms, was missing the broad-shouldered booziness that I look for in a great Marsala. And the accompanying pile of cappellini (which, beware, also came with the pork chop, steak, and both piccatas) was more often than not overcooked and sticky.
Choose the lasagna instead, packed with meat, sausage and cheese, a solid supper. Amazing? No. Satisfying? Yup. Come early for this dish; the kitchen tends to run out of it.
Beyond the menu, there’s a chalkboard on the wall listing the day’s antipasti. They’ll range from artichoke hearts with gorgonzola to a selection of cured meats and artisan cheeses; they’re cheap, so order a few. Some will be good.
The wine list at Shells & Sauce is serviceable and affordable, if not groundbreaking. With several deals by the glass, it encourages experimenting. And not for nothing, there’s a full bar to keep your martini-guzzling friends happy, and a television tuned to the Nuggets that, mercifully, doesn’t dominate the dining room.
Service at Shells & Sauce is unstuffy and generally efficient, and if not formal and white-gloved, staffers are willing to fix things when they aren’t right. A few of the finer points of service (perfectly timed courses, crumb- clearing, consistently refilled water glasses) don’t appear to be in the overall mission (and while we’re at it, the salad plates on my last visit were dishwasher-hot), but the crew is a friendly, accommodating bunch, knowledgeable about the menu and wine list, and generally game to make sure you have a good time.
Given the current climate of $20-plus entrees in this category of casual-urban restaurant, it’s refreshing to see a menu where only one item (lobster ravioli) breaks the Andrew Jackson barrier. A couple in the neighborhood really could stroll over for a bowl of pasta and glass of wine and go home for under $40.
Bottom line? I’m glad Shells & Sauce is around.
I’m not sure it’s the food that keeps the place so busy, but yet, somehow, perhaps because the bar is full, and the kitchen is humming, and the waiters are racing, and the customers (including you) are having a good time, the food seems almost secondary. You might not rave about your entree to your co-workers the next morning, and you might not crave another serving a few days later, but you won’t feel ripped off on your way out the door, and you’ll be back.
Because the point of Shells & Sauce isn’t perfect food anyway. The point of Shells & Sauce is to bring neighbors together over a few glasses of wine to get fed and share a laugh.
And if that’s not a noble mission for the restaurant on the corner, I don’t know what is.
Tucker Shaw: 303-954-1958 or dining@denverpost.com.
Shells & Sauce
Italian. 2600 E. 12th Ave., Denver, 303-377-2091
** RATING (Very Good)
Atmosphere: Casual, busy neighborhood Italian with little attitude and plenty of life.
Service: Informal and imperfect, but pleasant and quick.
Wine: Affordable wine list; not brilliant but solid and affordable.
Plates: Most under $20.
Hours: Dinner 3-10 p.m. Tuesday-Thursday, 3-11 p.m. Friday and Saturday, 3-9 p.m. Sunday. Brunch 10 a.m.-2 p.m. Saturday and Sunday.
Details: No reservations necessary. Street parking. Takeout available. Eat at the bar.
Three visits.
Our star system:
****: Excellent.
***: Great.
**: Very Good.
*: Good.
