Bottega Grill

     To blog or not to blog... I guess I'll blog. Bottega Grill is one of those places that I want to love but it just falls short. This was my second time there, and because so many of my friends like it, I found myself searching for details that would romance me into liking it more, but once again I left feeling like you do after a first date that you know will be the last.

    It's a lovely place in a lovely neighborhood with lovely service. The red wine sangria was quite good. I didn't feel the need to sweeten it with a Diet Coke like I often have to do when I get a bitter after-taste from a beverage that is intended to be fruity. That was lovely.

     I was in the company of two friends, Jackie and Liz, and we ordered the All in One appetizer platter to share. The platter included some outstanding avocado egg rolls with a tamarind dipping sauce that gave me goosebumps (the good kind). It also featured some Caprese salad elements with meaty slices of divine mozzarella.The fried calamari were crisp and abundant. That's where the loveliness ended. The rest of the platter consisted of some super-sized slices of soggy bread with chopped tomatoes that Liz said were supposed to be Bruschetta... hmm... I missed that one. Finally, there were two large slabs of something breaded that turned out to be fried mozzarella.

     See, this is exactly my point: I find some delicate, well-executed components presented side by side with some sloppy, mediocre numbers. It's like two different people prepared the dish.
     For entrees, Liz ordered the Panini Di Parma, and she said it was "ok". Not exactly a rave review. I ordered the Bottega Cobb Salad. That was also just "ok", and the balsamic vinaigrette was not only unremarkable, it wasn't sufficient for the forest of lettuce on my plate.
     I ordered the meatloaf to take home for John. It came with sauteed vegetables and mashed potatoes. I took a bite when he ate it later that evening, and the meat reminded me of a TV dinner loaf swimming in the obligatory gravy. Completely forgettable.
     At the end of our lunch, the girls and I shared the Dulce de Leche Crepes. There was some redemption in this dessert. They were perfect little envelopes bursting with creamy ecstasy. Finally, back to lovely...

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