Initially, Carmelina’s did not disappoint nor impress. The wine was aight, the bread was aight, and I was beginning to wonder if the elated diners I had spoken with earlier had merely been swept up by Carmelina’s impressive ambience of light piano jazz and real wax candles. Could it be that Carmelina’s was actually an average eatery that had been labeled “haute cuisine” by default?
My suspicion piqued, I tentatively ordered a rather daring appetizer: tortellini in a parmigiano cream sauce with prosciutto, shallots and nutmeg. Tortellini in cream sauce is a great foundation, and Carmelina’s executed this dish flawlessly. It was absolutely delicious. The tortellini was cooked perfectly with the frills slightly more al dente than the pocket, resulting in a tantalizing textural experience. Combined with the very earthy texture of the shallots and the tough prosciutto, this dish became a cavalcade of tactilely interesting bites. As for the flavor, the softly sweet nutmeg played a subtle yet satisfying role amid the occasionally overabundant savor of the other ingredients. There are honestly no words for the level of richness in each bite of Carmelina’s “Tortellini Valentino.” All I can say is that it would be foolish not to share it, lest you stuff yourself in advance of your entrée.
On this night, however, I wish that I had been such a fool. Heartbroken to find that they had run out of “Penne Bolognese” with ricotta salata, a dish that I had thought would be a high-brow twist on a childhood favorite of mine, I was forced to call an audible and try for the “Spicy Ravioli Amore.” Unfortunately, I am no Peyton Manning, and my last second play-call proved disastrous. This dish was terrible. A random assortment of ingredients were apparently tossed together in unmeasured quantities, cooked for an arbitrary interval, labeled “amore,” and sent out of the kitchen to unsuspecting diners. Normally, I applaud restaurants that don’t skimp on the sauce, but what Carmelina’s laid down before me was a downright stew. It would have been one thing if the plethora of sauce was at all tasty, but the nonsensical presence of jalapenos made it an absolute assault on the taste buds. Italian food is about savoring rich, luxurious flavors, not rushing for a sip of water after every bite. I really wish I knew what possessed these obviously overconfident chefs to ruin a potentially wonderful dish with the addition of an inherently combative ingredient, but their blunder is beyond my explanatory powers. Though the julienned chicken was also unappealing in its spiciness, it was abundantly clear which element was really to blame for this dish’s downfall. Seriously, jalapenos, stay the hell away from my marinara.
Furious with my entrée but thrilled with my appetizer, I decided to use dessert as a tiebreaker. I opted for tiramisu, a dish with an enormous quality spectrum. Having dined on both utterly inedible and indescribably delectable mascarpone in my day, I was excited to put Carmelina’s offering to the test. I’m happy to say that they passed with flying colors. Though nothing could completely redeem my entrée, I am willing to excuse it as a failed (and hopefully ephemeral) experiment in light of the otherwise undeniable quality of their food.
Carmelina’s is ideal for impressing a classy date or for indulging in a taste of the good life when parents come to town. Obviously the price is a major obstacle, but keep in mind that you get what you pay for.