I've always been a fan of Raffaele's in Mesa, so I was excited when I learned of Lauretta Melchiori and Raffaele Contacessi's plans to open a second restaurant in Phoenix.
The location of Raffaele's at Concord Place is indisputably gorgeous. Nestled deep in the heart of the plush Concord Place office development at Thomas and 44th Street, this Raffaele's has a view not of a parking lot, but of a huge manmade pond, complete with fountains. At night the fountains are lighted, and walking across the bridge from the restaurant to the parking structure, the feel is definitely more European than Phoenician. Inside, the restaurant is attractive, but not lavish. Evergreen and white predominate in the main dining room. China is simply white. A large wine cabinet spans the hallway connecting the room-with-a-view dining room with a second dining area.
I visit Raffaele's at Concord Place twice: once before Chef Contacessi's new menu is implemented, once after. Neither meal leaves me as impressed as I remember being in Mesa. The food is good, but as much as I'd like it to, it just doesn't make the leap to great.
On our first visit, our waiter is an imperious fellow who only loosens up when he senses our check will be substantial. I am relieved when another waiter is assigned to us for our second outing.
On both occasions, bruschetta slathered with fresh chopped tomatoes and garlic is brought before the meal, compliments of the house. I like it. Though the tomatoes are typically too pale, fresh garlic and basil make up for it. We place our order, sit back, munch and admire the handsome view. The carpaccio comes promptly. Raffaele's version consists of extra-thin slices of raw beef marinated in olive oil, lemon juice, garlic and capers--a dish some restaurants would call carne all'albese. It is good, but somewhat one-dimensional.
Having polished off our appetizer, we await our salads. (A tossed salad comes with dinner entrees, but we have ordered special ones.) The combination salad of arugula and radicchio is quite nice, though it costs a dollar more on the new menu ($6.95) than on the old. Baby artichokes are listed as an ingredient, but none can be found amid the plentiful spicy red and tart green leaves of the salad.
Insalata di pomodoro alla paesana is disappointing. The quality of the tomatoes is all-important to this simple salad of sliced tomatoes, Bermuda onion and fresh basil drizzled with olive oil. Unfortunately, as on the bruschetta, they are the flavorless, pale, mushy variety we are cursed with in Phoenix. Honestly, it's enough to break a tomato lover's heart. Without great love apples, this salad is close to pointless. Fresh green basil, however, is wonderful.
At the bottom of the menu, a line of copy requests diners' patience, as everything is cooked to order. While the wait is not as bad as what we've endured at, say, Nick Ligidakis' Golden Cuisine, it is a wait. Several tables of diners who arrive after us receive their food before we do. Finally, our waiter comes by to apologize. It seems one of our entrees takes extra long to prepare.
As the dining room is full and we are not in a rush, we accept this news in relaxed fashion. Happily, within minutes, our waiter returns with steaming plates. Spaghetti al cartoccio (baked spaghetti with wild mushrooms and imported ham) arrives fresh from the oven in a skillet covered with tin foil. It is deftly and gently scooped and twirled out of the pan and onto the plate by our waiter. Risotto al marinario (seafood rice) is presented very simply on a plate.
Of the two entrees, I prefer the latter. Risotto is a pleasant change of pace from usual menu offerings. Raffaele's has a hearty tomato-basil-oregano flavor and is generously topped with tender calamari (squid), mussels, shrimp and scallops. Oddly enough, this same spirit of giving undoes the baked spaghetti dish. The rich, sherry-tinged pasta is overwhelmed by the sheer quantity of sliced mushrooms and ham. The ratio of mushrooms and meat to spaghetti is simply too large for my taste.
As a result, we have no trouble finishing the risotto, but ask to have the remainder of our spaghetti boxed to go. This means, of course, we have room for dessert. Our waiter brings a tray, primarily of cakes, and we find two we can sample.
In the meantime, a cup of cappuccino is delivered lukewarm on arrival. Too bad, too, since it is nicely decorated with a stick of cinnamon on the saucer.
Decorative sauces line our cake plates. They add to the eye appeal and enhance the flavors of both. Champagne cake is light colored, moist and vaguely alcohol flavored. It is very nice.