THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, November 24, 1994 TAG: 9411220264
SECTION: NORFOLK COMPASS PAGE: 08 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: Sam Martinette
LENGTH: Medium: 79 lines
``Ritorna me,'' I thought I heard singer Dean Martin croon in Italian recently as I drove by the renovated 19th century building on Monticello Avenue that has served as the Spaghetti Warehouse since its opening in April of 1992.
``Return to me,'' say the English lyrics of the soulful Neapolitan ballad Martin sings to a background of violins and mandolins. I'll admit the thought might have been triggered by my frequent use of another Dean Martin hit, Volare, which I sing with gusto to torture the three kids in the back seat whenever they make too much noise.
But perhaps it all meant that it was time to make a return to the 450-seat former Price's Appliance Company warehouse, with its 16-foot ceilings, turn-of-the-century artifacts and giant reproduction of a 1930's trolley car in the center of the main dining room.
Somewhat of a snob when it comes to chain operations, I had returned only once since the Spaghetti Warehouse opening, and that was for a lunch with colleagues when I did as much talking as eating.
What about the acid test, I thought to myself, humming a few bars of ``Just in time, I found you just in time . . .'' What about taking the Flying Martinettis along to see just how good the place was at absorbing noise and dispensing food?
So it was that we arrived one blustery evening with that tumbling, twisting mass of raw energy otherwise known as my family, to dine anew at the largest restaurant in Norfolk.
We learned long ago that when dining with the three kids (ages 2, 4 and 8) that lingering over appetizers only heightens the challenge, so we bypassed such offerings as the antipasto for two ($6.99), with its assortment of meats, cheeses and marinated mushrooms, and the seafood salad ($6.49), said to be a combination of snow crab and shrimp, vegetables, peppers and ``hard-cooked egg'' on a bed of lettuce.
While the kids devoured loaves of hard bread and tiny tubs of butter, pausing occasionally to remark on a stuffed ``reindeer'' head or an old sign, their mother and I each sipped a glass of red wine. The young ones ordered from the kids' menu (for those under 12 or over 65), and their side orders of applesauce served as appetizers, arriving at the same time as our house salad and a rich, dark cup of minestrone soup.
The minestrone came with my order of veal parmigiana ($8.99), which was a giant serving of veal breaded and fried, then baked with tomato sauce, provolone and romano cheese. Julie's seafood marinara ($5.99) consisted of shrimp, bay scallops and chunks of white fish in a slightly spicy marinara sauce.
If the food itself might not have met the standards of the chefs at such eateries as La Galleria or Pasta e Pani - the veal being slightly tougher but still good enough that I ate it all - well, this was meant to be a different gastromic and economic experience. From the look of the size of the crowd gathering for dinner by the time we left, the food was making someone very happy.
The oldest tore into a plate of macaroni and cheese ($2.99), sucking down a couple of Cokes during the process, while the other two split an order of cheese ravioli ($3.49), counted out equally with as much precision as a pirate crew divides its loot.
Miraculously, at one point I found myself alone at the crumb-strewn table, the mother having taken the daughter you know where, followed by the other two, just because it seemed like a good idea. I looked around at the other families dining, young couples on dates, blue-collar workers grabbing a bite on the way home from work and was reminded of another tune by the master, Dino, ``You're nobody, till somebody loves you . . .'' ILLUSTRATION: AT A GLANCE
The Spaghetti Warehouse: 1900 Monticello Ave., 622-0151.
Food: Italian, full ABC, limited wine list.
Prices: entrees from $3.99 to $8.99; spaghetti feast for two,
$16.99.
Hours: lunch, Monday-Friday, 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.; dinner,
Monday-Thursday, 3 to 10 p.m.; Friday, 3 to 11 p.m.; Saturday, noon
to 11 p.m.; Sunday, noon to 10 p.m.
by CNB