About two weeks ago, prior to attending a rained out Indians game and just moments after deciding an hour wait at the Great Lakes Brewing restaurant would make us late for said game that never happened, my dad and I ended up at a quirky Italian/Moroccan restaurant on E. 4th street called "La Strada."
For those of you unaware, E. 4th is a short stretch of what used to be a normal street just a few blocks from the center of Cleveland (hence the low number), now populated with some of the finest dining in the city. It's also taken on a bit of an identity as the part of town to hang out in after and before games at the Q and Progressive field, which makes for a strange mix. It's nice though, and I've never disliked anything I've ate in that food court meets back alley. The coffee shop there, the Lake Erie Coffee Company, is probably my favorite coffee shop in Cleveland, at least so far. It's far too inconvenient to frequent from the semi-near west side, but the coffee and decor are outstanding.
This though, is primarily about our meal at La Strada. To anyone who knows Italian neo-surrealist film, that name means something, and I wasn't disappointed to find out that the connection was intentional If you go here: http://zacharybelchers4.xanga.com/ you'll have enough hints to understand the scope of what that means to me. To say nothing (yet), of the food, consider this: a faux renaissance opera house melding the grotesque (a large ceramic blue and white eyeball) with the regal (plush crimson curtains and expensive-looking bronze sconces) with a Charlie Chaplin film reel played on a section of wall above the main dining area, to a soundtrack of Pink Floyd's full Dark Side of the Moon album. To varying degrees, whomever it was that designed the visual stylings of La Strada successfully transports the patrons to a different place when they walk into the restaurant. It was fun, but from a purely Felliniesque standpoint, the mark is missed wildly. Fellini was and is successful because he allows the viewer to believe, even for a second, that what's on screen is real. At La Strada, the artifice oozes at each turn. It's quite the opposite effect of Fellini's impressionistic style. That's probably a split hair to a degree because I do appreciate that it wasn't just taking a name from one of the most important films of all time and not trying to be as unique as Fellini was and is, but the tie-in is more contrived than holistically experienced.
The food though, was outstanding. I would have hoped for more seasoning in the bread dipping mixture (simply a few drops of balsamic vinegar in a lighter-than-expected olive oil), but that is my only mark against the cuisine. The bread itself was excellent; warm, nicely crusted on the outside with delectably fluffy and moist inner body. My entree, a stuffed chicken atop risotto, was delicious. I prefer my risotto a bit cheesier and it had a strong lemon flavor I could have done without, but that would have made for a different meal. Taking it for what it was, it was excellent. The chicken itself (fully off the bone, tenderized, and wrapped around the filling) was delicious; stuffed with prosciutto, gorgonzola, and generous amounts of fresh basil, each bite, especially taken with the risotto, was, in its own way, wholly unique and delicious.
So. The food was good, the atmosphere strange, and the concept somewhat missed. Would I go back? Well, not anytime soon. It's a bit expensive and there are so many more places to go that are either cheaper or in the same cost-bracket. Maybe, when my culinary adventures around this city are through, then I will return to my favorite places. Maybe then, La Strada will come back around. I can't say I was disappointed, but, for as good as the food was, the experience itself, all told, puts a customer more on edge than it provides a comfortable space. I understand dining as an experience, but I don't understand melding the Phantom of the Opera, Pink Floyd, and Chaplin, then calling it Fellini. Antonioni, perhaps....
-Zack
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