What's left to say about Il Cane Rosso that hasn't already been said?
Sara Kerens
Jay Jerrier's pizza oven did best when producing simple pies.
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Il Cane Rosso
2612 Commerce St., 214-741-1188, www.ilcanerosso.com. Open 11 a.m.-2 p.m. Monday-Saturday, 5 p.m.-midnight Thursday-Saturday. $-$$.
Burrata $12
Pasta of the day $10-$15
Napoletana $12
Margherita $12
Prosciutto e Rucola $15
Capricciosa $15
Bella Mella $10
S’Mores calzone $10
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The name and product were Dallas institutions long before the new Deep Ellum storefront opened for business this year. Il Cane Rosso was Dallas' esoteric floating pizzeria, setting up shop at Chocolate Angel and Times Ten Cellars long before the "pop-up restaurant" concept became a trendy phenomenon.
With the restaurant's opening, the question is what happens to a freewheeling (so to speak) eatery once it becomes a fixed dining establishment. Despite the brand familiarity and the virtually intact menu, the restaurant offers ample area for exploration.
First, there is the location. Deep Ellum practically craved a restaurant like Il Cane Rosso to arouse a sense of "dining-destination" resurgence. While a few other restaurants in the area—Lemongrass, Monica Y Alla, and Local—have been in the neighborhood for some time, the new addition provides a much-needed breath of fresh air. It's a casual restaurant suitable for everything from date nights to young families to special-event get-togethers.
The surprisingly spacious dining room has a polished bohemian feel to it, which befits the restaurant's location. The furniture—rustic wood tables and benches—is simple, but a marble winding bar top adds some refinement. There's not a full bar, but in its place is a decent wine collection displayed on shelves along the wall and several beers on tap (Firemans 4, Deschutes, Shiner, Rahr Ugly Pug, New Belgium Ranger) to go along with a bottled beer selection. There is a humble-sized patio, but most of the action takes place indoors. The recognizably red Il Cane Rosso wood-fire pizza oven is prominently the focal point of the dining room. A fun painting of a pig diagram lines the back wall.
Aside from the digs and aesthetics, there is also a new executive chef. Owner Jay Jerrier mans the pizza oven, but the person in charge of the kitchen is Matthew Reddick. With most of the menu remaining the same as it was before Jerrier anchored his oven, what additions has Reddick brought to the restaurant?
Broaching the subject with our server, he directed our attention toward the new fresh pastas, house-made daily. I dined twice at the restaurant over a span of two weeks, and both times I visited, the pasta was a tagliatelle with pork ragu. Fresh pasta is delicate and easily overcooked. Unfortunately, our pasta suffered that fate and was a gummy disappointment. Even if the noodles had been perfect, the ragu was bland, and what I had hoped would be a ground or minced pork was instead tough, diced chunks of pork shoulder.
Some great things came out of the kitchen too. Rosso's salads were bountiful and refreshing, but the real stunner was the divine burrata appetizer. This cream and mozzarella blend cheese was the best of any dish sampled. Luscious burrata sits atop sautéed bitter greens and is finished off with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil. The three pieces of crostini served with the burrata weren't enough for the massive chunk of cheese, but our waitress happily brought out more upon request. Since she was bringing out extra bread anyway, I asked to try some bacon marmalade. I had spied the ingredient on the Delia pizza, but having already ordered so much, I wanted only to try the marmalade. I'm glad I did. The sweet and vinegary spread highlighted the smokiness of the bacon and made a felicitous impromptu pairing with the burrata.
Certainly, any review of Il Cane Rosso wouldn't be complete without talking about the pizza, but I bring up the pasta and burrata first because the difference in their quality sums up my experience at Il Cane Rosso. Over two meals, I ordered as much as possible, and even some of the pizzas were hit or miss.
Since the perfect pizza is in the eye of the beholder, I ordered a wide array and brought along company with varying preferences. What was glaringly noticeable to us all was that the less complicated the pizza, the more successful it was. After all, what makes Cane Rosso's pizza so adored is the Neapolitan-style thin and chewy crust (thanks to the imported 00 finely milled flour) and the high quality cheeses and toppings used. The trouble, however, is when they pile on too much of a good thing. Basic pies like the Margherita and Prosciutto e Rucola showcase the strengths, such as a killer tomato sauce and fresh ingredients. Pizzas with conflicting toppings such as the Napoletana (traditionally just tomato sauce, mozzarella and anchovy) defeated both the crust and taste buds. Anchovies and olives? My dining companion, an admitted salt fiend, couldn't finish more than one slice. The Capricciosa suffered similarly. Although the pizza's tomato, mozzarella, prosciutto, basil, artichoke and olives are loyal to the traditional version, the heavy hand of artichoke and olives masked all other components of the dish. With these two pizzas, Il Cane Rosso should have taken the Coco Chanel route.
One exception to the less is better tenet, however, is dessert. After having tried the apple slice and caramel-drizzled Bella pizza, I lamented not ordering the sinfully chocolate- and marshmallow-crammed S'Mores calzone (a mistake I didn't repeat my second visit.) The Bella screamed of needing more, whether it was additional caramel or a heaping of powdered sugar.
