In just a few sentences, I’ll be writing in the strictest detail about a restaurant called Zin, as in “Zinfindel.” Its Web site is www.zincredible.com, which got me thinking in pun terms: That’s zin-credible. Or maybe it zinconceivable or zinfluential. Zinfamous? The word play makes me wonder how serious we can take this restaurant. Oh, but Delafield’s Zin -Uncommon California Italian is zerious — I mean serious. And it has had the second half of 2005 to prove it. Not quite “there” when I visited last summer (it opened in May ’05), Zin has since grown in proportionately positive ways.
Here’s a little background on how this place came to be. Five years ago, restaurateur Dennis Sobczak, involved in West Allis’ Crawdaddy’s in its early days, opened a popular Cajun restaurant in Delafield called Fishbone’s. A few years into that venture, Sobczak’s mind was on opening another place; his executive chef, Jesse Souza, was also ready to branch out. An 1840s-era building came along, Sobczak had one of those eureka moments, deciding it was a perfect match for his California-Italian concept, and presto, development began. Despite adding 4,000 square feet to this two-floor house, much of the former homestead’s natural charm (i.e., wood, exposed brick) remains intact.
If you’ve been to Fishbone’s, you might remember the color — walls painted with big, bold murals. They’re the stamp of Steve Draeger, whose backlit stained-glass panels are the focal point of Zin’s 90-seat dining room. Against the blond wood tables and pale-green walls, they pop.
Then there’s chef Souza, who fed Sobczak his menu-in-progress for half a year before the restaurant opened. The “California-Italian” on the semi-finished product — more menu additions were due to come, Sobczak told me, in November — is a bit nebulous. The easiest way to explain it is that it interprets classics in a different way — like the avocado chop salad ($5/ $10), osso buco with fontina mashed potatoes ($22), lobster ravioli with ginger-citrus cream sauce ($25) and chocolate lasagna ($6). At the start of the meal, each table is given a basket of warm sliced bread and seasoned dipping oil. (After my first meal there, I scolded the restaurant in my weekly online dining column for not serving the dipping oil with a spoon. A spoon found its way into the bowl on my next visits.)
Appetizers are a mishmash. On visit one, we ordered a pizzetta — my quibble about the name is it suggests a tiny pie; this was a full-blown pizza ($15). The toppings — goat cheese, prosciutto and asparagus — were zesty and applied liberally, except the cheese, which went on a little too thick. The medium-thin crust was my beef, lacking qualities (chewy, flaky, crispy) that would’ve raised it above ordinary. I also wasn’t wild about the crispy shrimp and rosemary cannellini bean bruschetta we ordered at another meal. The five sliced toasts were scored from the grill, but they weren’t toasted enough (too soft and bready), although the grilled shrimp had a good firm bite. (And wow, $12 for this?)
Zin is great with greens (salads small, $5, and large, $10). The avocado chop — romaine and leaf lettuce tossed with distinctive partners, the highlights being pancetta, smoked mozzarella and avocado — was the wet one. Someone went gonzo on the red wine vinaigrette, but it was still a concert of crunch and commanding flavors. The goat cheese with sun-dried tomato was as appealing as the roasted pistachio and apple salad, but differently. The former was chewy and slightly pungent, the latter crunchy and sweet.
Zin’s interpretation of osso buco — braised veal shank — was served upright, a tree trunk of moist meat surrounded by a comforting porridge of fontina-potato purée and autumn vegetable braise ($22). I didn’t miss the traditional risotto and lemon gremolata. The award for best-flavored dish goes to the pork tenderloin. The roasted loin’s caper-parsley-garlic marinade complemented the thyme demi, making it a super winter dish with sautéed veggies and the ubiquitous fontina potatoes ($22). Chicken Marsala was the one faltering main course. Here, they’re doing a Marsala wine demi glace, but the thin, underseasoned sauce tasted like anything but smoky Marsala wine ($18). The saffron risotto had those diametrically opposed characteristics I love — creaminess and a firm chew. Grilled shrimp and baby lobster made the risotto a meal ($27).
On each visit, Zin’s weak point has been desserts. The chocolate lasagna was a rubbery-textured disaster ($6), and a slice of lemon tart had a soft, underbaked crust and a sweet filling that lacked the vital tartness ($5).
Even with its shortcomings, Zin brings something alluring to Delafield, which, like all of Lake Country, hasn’t met the need for creative restaurants. Zinteresting, no?
Zin Uncommon California Italian
629 Main St., Delafield
262-646-5959
Hours: Mon-Thurs 4-11 p.m.; Fri-Sat 4 p.m.-12 a.m.; Sun 4-10 p.m. Prices: appetizers $7-$13; salads $5 and $10; pizzettas $13-$15; pastas $15-$25; entrées $18-$27; desserts $4-$6
Service: attentive, -fairly knowledgeable, courses arrived quickly
Dress: casual or dressy
Nonsmoking dining room
Handicap access: yes
Credit cards: M V A DS
Reservations: for -parties of six or more
Cal-Italian Dreamin’
In just a few sentences, I’ll be writing in the strictest detail about a restaurant called Zin, as in “Zinfindel.” Its Web site is www.zincredible.com, which got me thinking in pun terms: That’s zin-credible. Or maybe it zinconceivable or zinfluential. Zinfamous? The word play makes me wonder how serious we can take this restaurant. Oh, but Delafield’s Zin -Uncommon California Italian is zerious — I mean serious. And it has had the second half of 2005 to prove it. Not quite “there” when I visited last summer (it opened in May ’05), Zin has since grown in proportionately positive ways.…
