Demi Mezzo, as you probably have figured out, means half andhalf ("demi" the French, "mezzo" the Italian), so the menu has somedishes that are Italian and some that are French. Voila! Ecco!
I have always had a problem with restaurants that try to workboth sides of the ethnic street. These days it's hard enough gettinga chef who can cook one cuisine, yet alone two. On top of that thereis always this confetti of confusion that blinds the customer whenmaking a choice of where to eat.
"What say we eat Italian tonight?"
"OK, where do you want to go?"
"I just heard about a place called Demi Mezzo on West Chicago."
"Is that Italian?"
"It's half Italian and half French."
"Ah, I don't know, sounds like cuisine confuso to me."
"How about Topo Gigio on North Wells?"
"Sounds good to me."
The picture at Demi Mezzo is that there are pizzas, pastas,salads, fish specials, steak frites and steak au poivre - that kindof thing - on the current menu. But the fact is that I got caughtsmack in the middle of a menu change and almost crashed (and I had myblinkers on).
The menu of a few months ago was really long and peppered with alegion of French dishes and Italian dishes. Confusing. The newmenu has been toned down considerably, and that makes the ridethrough the menu a bit smoother.
The ride is not without potholes, however. The grilled octopuswas as tough as the captain on a Greek freighter. The tentacles maynot have been boiled before hitting the grill, or maybe it was simplya tough hombre to begin with.
On the same visit, the shrimp de Jonghe - a classic originalChicago dish that is so good when done right and so awful when itisn't - was somewhere in between. It had a peppery flavor instead ofa zippy, garlicky flavor with cayenne and paprika.
The restaurant speaks more fluently when it embraces the Italianidiom. The pizza is wonderful. The excellent thin crust (notcigarette-paper thin, though, which I hate) had a nice chew and agood crisp. The toppings on this pizza du jour were a mix and mashof vegetables - tomatoes, onion, eggplant (almost a caponata) - overwhich were small "full moons" of fresh mozzarella and cuttings offresh basil.
The kitchen does have a tendency to sauce some pasta dishes toexcess. Gnocchi with "wild mushroom, mushroom broth and truffle oil"is an example. The gnocchi by themselves were a knockout: cookedright, with a good chew. The problem was that they were submerged inthis broth thing, causing the dish to resemble a soup. Forget thetruffle oil; how could it survive in this mess?
Now here is an entree that had it all together: Medallions ofveal, kept a little on the thicker side, seemed to be sauteed,wrapped in prosciutto and then sauteed again. The veal came with awonderful arrangement of sauteed escarole (with chips of garlic inevidence) and white beans dressed simply in olive oil. It was a finedish.
Parlez vous Francais? Oui. The steak frites, though not on apar with that at some of the better bistros around town, was quiteacceptable: The grilled sirloin quite flavorful, the frites justfine.
As to the desserts, well, on one occasion there was a tiramisuthat was so polyester-pillowy that it strengthened my opinion thatmost places haven't a clue as to how this dessert should be made.
Then there was a dessert special, a strawberry Chambord crisp,that was totally misnamed because there was no crisp, just a mushcovering stewed-or-something strawberries, with a Chambord flavorthat appeared to have left the building. Better, though not by much,was the apple and cinnamon bread puddding with caramel sauce.
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