Little Venetian

Everything in existence has an equal opposite. Hot and cold, earth and air, matter and antimatter, yin and yang, and so on. Often these two things can be found very close to one another, bound by their natures as they are.

This is the case with the Little Venetian restaurant, as it is in the same strip mall as the Taste of Scandinavia, which I have found lacking. The Little Venetian restaurant makes up for the failures of the Taste of Scandinavia. This strip mall will be spared the flames when The Time is upon us.

When I came to the strip mall I was not impressed. Generic store A, generic store B, generic liquor store, and so on. It looked like a strip mall. Pane glass and nondescript white-grey wall. You can imagine my surprise when my view of all that strip mall glory is suddenly impeded by a small garden. It was green and warm and happy to see me, and in return I was warmed and happy to see it (if not greened, whatever that would even mean). I followed the small pathway through the trees up to the door and entered the establishment, where my swarthy companion awaited my arrival.

The interior of the establishment was a warm light orange-red sort of color, and decorated with family pictures and Italianish artworks. Nothing stood out but nothing was lost for clutter, either. Overall the atmosphere was comforting and it felt like someones home as much as it felt like an eating-hole.

The girl at the counter was pleasant, and had all of her fingers, which pleased me as I had been previously informed that this was not always the case considering the history of the establishment. Suffice it to say that the regular sized Venetian is closed now and the Italians are a wonderful and diverse addition to the rich tapestry that is America.

Anyway, they had all of the daily specials displayed on plates so that you could see exactly what you would be ordering, and I saw a lamb flank. Flanks being the best way to serve meat, that is what I ordered.

It was everything I could have hoped for and more. It had gravy that was delicious. It had carrots that were delicious. It has potatoes that were delicious. It was everything I had not to grab the bone of the meat and gnaw on it for every last ounce of flavor (and the marrow).

My companion told me, as he stroked his thick mustache, that he enjoyed this establishment because it didn't focus on the cooking tradition of just one region of Italy, like most places, but instead offered traditional dishes inspired by both the Northern and Southern regions. This meant absolutely nothing to me, so I mostly tuned him out and wondered why he had ordered French onion soup.

I'm sure it was delicious too. I'm not fond of onions or the French.

Overall the Little Venetian greets its customers with a casual environment, a good combination of self-service and being waited upon, and amazing food. I will definitely return to this unexpected locale.