The Sicilian Butcher has officially landed in the Dallas area, opening in Addison as its second Texas outpost (the first being in Fort Worth). And to be clear — this isn’t just another Italian joint.
If you’re wondering what makes a restaurant Sicilian, there are a few distinct features. The crossroads for basically every empire with a boat, its food is the ultimate mix of Greek, Arab and Spanish influences in a sweet-and-savory flavor mashup — like a rowdy Mediterranean block party. Seafood is a religion, citrus is currency, bread comes as thick as Texas toast and desserts are unapologetically extra. If you picture the Italian stereotype as loud, talking with their hands, and over the top, this is the food embodiment on a plate. Translation: if you like performative dining, you’re in for a treat. The appetizers alone are a spectacle: an Italian Saganaki that’s flambéed tableside, a five-foot strada board that becomes the entire tablescape (minimum four people required), build-your-own bruschetta flights, and the pièce de résistance — a meatball Ferris wheel that draws gawkers every time it enters the dining room. Loaded with six different meats and sauces, each is about the size of your fist — we’re talking steak and truffle mushroom, sausage and arrabbiata, turkey with basil pesto, and chicken parm that could easily double as an entrée. For seafood purists, probably the most authentic dish was the shrimp, octopus, and calamari — a must if you’re a fan of heat because the chile oil is no joke. From there, it’s a choose-your-own-adventure of carbs: Neapolitan pizzas, mix-and-match pastas, sauces and meatballs, with a few proteins (pork, chicken, seafood) sprinkled in if you’re so inclined. Some of the more decadent options include a 12-layer lasagna, six-hour braised short ribs, and a pork parmigiana that spills off the plate in Texas-sized portions. The vodka sauce was a standout, as was the picchio pacchiu, the chef’s favorite — fresh heirloom tomatoes, roasted garlic, basil, and butter that delivers a bright bite less bogged down by meat. And then there’s dessert. For the love of all things ricotta, save room for the DIY cannoli — pure joy delivered in a miniature Vespa cart. You pipe your own fillings and shower them with toppings like Biscoff crumbles and pistachios.
Or skip dinner altogether and head straight to the attached Sicilian Baker next door for a unique dessert date. The counter is lined with cannoli shells and cream flavors like an ice cream shop — Nutella, Reese’s, lemon, strawberry — all available individually or in small or large mix-and-match packs. And if that somehow doesn’t tempt you, their gelato will happily finish the job. It’s cheaper than a flight across the pond.