by Rob Patterson
Frank & Angie’s Pizzeria
508 West Avenue, 472-3534
Open daily 11am-10pm My kingdom for a slice.
That’s been this pizza lover’s cry since relocating from the East Coast. Naturally, the recent opening of Frank & Angie’s Pizzeria –
right behind one of Austin’s most reliable burger joints, Hut’s, whose owners
are involved in this new venture – piqued my interest. With pizza by the pie
or slice, calzones, focaccia sandwiches, and daily pasta specials, all at
incredibly reasonable prices, this spot’s allure prompted a number of
exploratory visits.
Their menu touts dishes “prepared in the tradition of New York’s Little
Italy,” although the streetscape mural across the restaurant’s north wall looks
more like an undistinguished section of Queens. The dish names are a tad cutesy
as well: pies with such handles as Gina Lollabrigida, Lugosi’s Lament, and
Scorsese; “Corleone Calzones” like the Vito and Sophia Loren; such Focaccia
Sandwiches as the De Niro, Fellini, Tarantino, Di Maggio, and Francis Ford
Capacolla (okay, the last one is a pretty good pun). But happily, the fare at
Frank & Angie’s avoids a pedestrian approach, providing some degree of
satisfaction and a good measure of promise for the future.
My first visit was a quick stop for two slices to go, at $1.50 each
(50-75cents for each special topping) that maintained a consistent freshness
and quality on each subsequent visit (with feta cheese and roasted garlic
making a particularly tangy combo). The thin, crispy crust was encouragingly
chewy, and the sauce had a rich body, if a little less tangy than it should be.
In a city with too many pitiful delivery pizza franchises and too few genuine
pizzerias, Frank & Angie’s scores high when it comes to their pies.
Basic test two was their Spaghetti with Meatballs, a mere $4.95 with a
generous Garden Salad on the side. The good-sized bowl (still no match for
Romeo’s spaghetti, the best bargain bowl in town) sported a well-cooked pasta,
but as with the pizza, the marinara sauce was acceptably rich, yet begged for a
bit more thickness and a good deal more spiciness. Similarly, the meatballs
eschewed both the doughiness or the dryness of an imperfect mixture, but lacked
a certain pizzazz. Maybe it’s a result of the current trend towards light-er,
healthier fare, although I doubt that herbs, spices, and garlic galore present
any dangers beyond the social pitfalls of lingering breath problems.
Another pasta special, the Basil Pesto Alfredo over Angel Hair,
actually erred a bit in the other direction, a common faux pas with the
current craze for pesto, in which a little can go a long way. The dish came
rather elegantly dressed with fresh tomato slices topped with melted mozarella
cheese and basil leaves, and once again, the pasta had a well-prepared
consistency, light and succulent. But the Pesto Alfredo Sauce begged for a more
delicate touch, as well as some sort of counterpoint, so much so that I
performed the rare desecration of salting it.
With each dinner, the accompanying Garden Salad had a crisp newness, as well
as the de rigueur hot pickled pepper, even though the dish was pulled
from the refrigerator, where it waited under plastic wrap. Swathed in Frank
& Angie’s piquant Creamy Tomato dressing, and topped with herbed focaccia
croutons, it was all but indistinguishable from a salad prepared on the spot.
Ideally situated on the edge of downtown for the business lunch crowd, Frank
& Angie’s should do well with their amply stuffed, eight-inch Focaccia
Sandwiches. Although the homemade bread lacks the slightly crusty shell and
soft, sweet inside of a genuine Little Italy focaccia, the darker grain and
doughier consistency seems to better suit a sandwich. At a recent lunch, the Di
Maggio (with a subtle salami, tomato, lettuce, provolone, and herb vinaigrette)
only needed a little more oil and vinegar to pass muster. My companion,
however, lamented the texture of the eggplant slices in her Fellini (which
features red onion, green bell pepper, sun dried tomato, lettuce, provolone,
and herb vinaigrette), reckoning from their overly tough consistency that they
were probably canned rather than fresh. Otherwise, it seemed a rather
appetizing combination.
None of these pitfalls were anywhere near fatal, although I hope that in
future meals at Frank & Angie’s (I still want to try the calzones,
minestrone, and pasta salad), the kitchen takes a friendly hint: Don’t spare
the herbs and spices, and remember that too much garlic is almost an oxymoron.
These elements are among the not-so-secret essential ingredients that make for
superb Italian food, even at its most simple. Nonetheless, this spot has a
fairly firm command of the bottom line (and a deck overlooking Waller Creek
that should serve them well once the summer sun and humidity abate), as well as
a keen sense of imagination and presentation, making the most of seemingly
basic offerings. Frank & Angie’s might well mature from a welcome addition
into a tried-and-true standard.
This article appears in July 21 • 1995 and July 21 • 1995 (Cover).