Review - Parmesan's Wood Stone Pizza

Parmesans Wood Grill is situated in an upper-class strip mall, connected to a rib joint and bar and surrounded by doctor's offices. The dinning room resembles a free-for-all. There are no booths. The tables are arranged and distanced in rows on a well-lit floor with beige tile. A counter wraps around the restaurants side, complete with register, dessert case, food for sale, dessert tray, decorative bread, and a modest bar. It is an Italian restaurant, as anyone could tell by the wall-paper runner of grapes and wine, accompanied with a small shelf running along the perimeter, decorated with old cooking instruments.

The lazy organization makes one feel as if they are all eating at different kids table for the same party, which is a shame because Parmesans' Italian cooking deserves loftier, more imaginative

decor.

Parmesan's opened in 2004 as a ma-and-pa operation. Its continued existence among several recently shuttered restaurants in Frankfort is owed to authenticity in both Italian cooking and ingredients. The bread and pesto are made daily, and both were offered while we waited for the main course. Their pesto, though tad more oily than others, covers everything with flavor while not overpowering. It's the strongest hint of taste without completely undoing the meal or bread it finds itself on.

The basics are handled deftly, allowing the more experimental options to flourish without being hindered by inferior ingredients. However, these combinations should not be attempted on a diet. Their exhaustive menu of 14 inch gourmet pizzas offer sinfully delicious combinations. On a visit with my family, I was able to sample a slice of antipasto pizza (12.95). The sheer flavor and weight of the slice made the heart burn worthwhile. On the healthier side, they offer eggplant parmesan and vegetable primavera pizzas.

In other vegetarian choices, I opted for the eggplant rotolini ($12.50). Not because I am vegetarian, but because the sign of a good chef can be determined by an eggplant's taste in an Italian dish. In previous experiences with eggplant parmesan, the taste starts to mimic meat and loses a minute sweet juiciness inherent to the vegetable. Parmesans nails it, with eggplant stuffed with ricotta, the cheese acting as a base flavor to the eggplant's expressiveness. The portions they serve guarantees leftovers to savor later.

The real star of Parmesans is the chef, Michael Papandrea, who seemingly handles orders personally. During our visit, a customer approached the counter and inquired about catering options. The girl working the counter went into the kitchen, and five seconds later, Papendrea burst out with a hand primed to shake. He wrote down the order personally, gave advice on how many trays they would actually need for the given head count, and when the customer said they didn't need it delivered, offered guidance on how to properly transport trays in the back of a car. He then went back into the kitchen, and resumed the role of unseen hero.

After eating a meal such a great meal, looking around the restaurant was jarring. The posters and statues from the J.C. Penney's kitchenware section still stared down, defying me to take it all seriously. It is one of the finest upper-middle class restaurants in the Southwest suburbs, but the environment denies itself pretension, and not for the sake of comfort, either. The waitstaff seems to be still in high school and without discernible uniform besides one mandated by the summer heat. The clientele ranged race and age, dressed for either the elegance and lawn care. The lack of unity was at first off-putting. Yet, to have such a terrific meal without pretension, compared to the countless restaurants that seem to only serve pretentiousness in the absence of competent cooking, Parmesans is a safe haven. It is a meal that should not be missed, nor easily forgotten for it's suburban community.

There was a dessert tray that looked absolutely amazing, filled with standard Italian treats done to visible perfection. Even after eating half of their large portions, it is difficult to turn down. We left with several Styrofoam containers, along with a 4 oz container of pesto and a loaf of bread.