Like yoga class and Chinese takeout, Italian food has acquired a cultural life of its own. For those of us who believe in the healing powers of spaghetti, “I’m craving Italian” has come to mean a whole spectrum of things.
Food snobs cling to authentic Italian–San Marzano tomatoes, hand-formed orecchiette, aged balsamic, shavings of Parmigiano-Reggiano. And then there is Staten Island Italian, à la the Sopranos–a crowded table sagging with mountains of linguine and steroid meatballs swimming in red sauce. Here’s where you find sheets of lasagna quilted with mozzarella; eggplant parmigiana (more Main Street diner than trattoria); and fettuccine Alfredo, which could kill a large man more efficiently than any Mafia hit.
And then there is the benign subdivision I like to call suburban Italian, or what is better known as Darden Restaurants Inc’s wildly popular Olive Garden chain. You’ve seen the commercials on TV: those pillowy breadsticks, that sweet waitress, the “When you’re here, you’re family!” promise. With 477 locations in the U.S., and total annual sales reaching $1.71 billion, Olive Garden has successfully convinced folks of just how inviting and Italian™ it can be. It even has its own word to describe the Olive Garden experience: “Hospitaliano”–which marries “hospitality” and “Italian,” as if the two were inextricable. Never mind that real Italian chefs would sell their own mamas before offering puffy breadsticks on their menus. Expecting Italian cuisine at the Olive Garden is entirely missing the point.
Let the minestrone or pasta e fagioli soup, both tasty and rich with character (although they taste exactly the same), thaw your cynicism. Mussels di Napoli ($7.25), steamed with white wine, lemon, and lots of butter, and Bruschetta Caprese ($5.50) are the most dependable bets on the Antipasti menu–the mussels are fresh, with perfect texture, and the bruschetta, although served warm on a scalding-hot plate (huh?), is proof that nothing tastes better than simplicity. (Note to the main office: Those CHICKEN FINGERS in the “Sampler Italiano” are about as Italian as Margaret Cho.)
Entrée pastas are artfully done, yet stay true to the focus-grouped formula for success: lots of cheese–stuffed with, topped with, mixed in–and cream sauces (garlic cream sauce, white wine butter sauce, creamy white wine sauce, creamy bolognese sauce, and “fresh Alfredo” sauce). The Lobster Spaghetti ($17.95), one of OG’s rotating specials, is gratifying, with its succulent chunks of lobster, fresh spinach, and light cream sauce swirling about impressively al dente pasta. Stuffed Chicken Parmigiana ($12.95) casts the same delicious serotonin spell as meatloaf ‘n’ gravy with its tenderness, its ricotta-herb center, and side of linguine and (oddly sweet) house marinara.
The point is not so much Italian cuisine as it is mid-priced Safety Cuisine–reassuring noodles, familiar flavors, and huge portions that heat up nicely for lunch–gone one step further. With gourmet fetishism and celebrity-chef worship at an all-time culture high, OG recognizes that even the suburban sweatpants crowd wants some ethnic authenticity and foodie cred when dining on toasted ravioli.
So OG combines all-American safety recipes (Tuscan T-Bone, Chicken Alfredo Pizza) with Italian-ish lingo and ingredients, cleverly marrying the authentic Italian purists strive for and the Staten Island Italian Americans crave. This hybrid food comes with its own pedigree: glossy imagery (via both television commercials and menu) of the Olive Garden’s Tuscan culinary institute and location in Italy, and a MAJOR emphasis on OG’s extensive wine list, as if appealing to the aspiring gourmand in all of us.
Does it work? Sure it does. Meals taste undeniably good, and not just because all Olive Garden kitchens dutifully follow the same, carefully planned master recipes and techniques that allow no room for taste bud failure. Service is also a well-oiled machine, disarmingly pleasant. Everything is critic-proof in the safe confines of the Garden. Don’t overanalyze, pull on loose pants, and just enjoy some of that Hospitaliano.
Olive Garden
11325 NE 124th St, Kirkland, 425-820-7740. Sun-Thurs 11 am-10 pm; Fri-Sat 11 am-11 pm.