Frank and John's Family Restaurant

This family restaurant puts on a simple show

by Bill Rodriguez

186 Main St., East Greenwich, 884-9751
Open Tues-Thurs, 1-10 p.m., Fri & Sat, 1-11 p.m., Sun, 3-10 p.m.
No credit cards
Sidewalk access

There's a certain kind of restaurant that's the culinary equivalent to a bright-eyed Mickey Rooney bouncing up and chirping to Judy Garland: "Hey -- why don't we put on a show!?!" Odds are, the chirping is done in Italian, judging from the many informal Italian eateries that feel as if they were born in this way.

On Main Street in East Greenwich, the variety of eateries makes would-be diners run a gustatory gauntlet in which they can be flailed by French fries, pummeled by kung pao, and singed by vindaloo. Of course, the most competition is for customers with a calamari jones, and perhaps the most inauspicious sign for them, above a white Perma-Stone façade, is one that artlessly declares in simple block letters: "Frank & John from Italy -- Pizza -- Restaurant."

Inside, it's not much more formal. Paintings and wall hangings go heavy on the Bay of Naples and even heavier on posters of floral-ensconced angels. Behind a counter the day's specials scroll by -- in Italian -- on an electronic marquee. It's only when you sit down and open the menu that the actual name of the place is declared, with a "Welcome to Frank & John's Family Restaurant." The operational word is "family," on both sides of the meal. It seems that every other table has a kid or two (there's a children's menu) and like most places of this sort, Frank & John's is a family enterprise. Brothers Frank, John and Sal Illiano cook for us, while a wife here and a daughter there serve us. The general ambiance is of arriving late for a well-populated Sunday dinner at the home of a friend's Italian parents; a home in which someone (Frank) goes back to Italy every year for an extended visit to gather new recipes. Wine, available by the glass and carafe as well as bottle, flows freely.

Friends of ours discovered this place a few weeks before, enjoyed it and brought us back. One had been impressed by a burgeoning platter that was brought to a nearby table, a seafood array that included shrimp with eyes and antennas intact. During our dinner at Frank & John's, the same seafood platter came again to the same table -- as though it was a nightly tradition -- although this was a different party of eight, who came all the way from North Providence to celebrate an engagement. The menu informed us that the fried seafood appetizer platter is prepared for a minimum of four people, at $5.50 per person. We couldn't imagine launching into a main course after finishing that, so we resisted.

The appetizers we chose suited us fine. For soup, the pasta fagioli ($2/$3) was thick, with meaty pintos instead of cannellini beans, and went well with the hot Italian bread. The snail salad ($5.95) was tender, as scungilli (whelk) sometimes is not. We also shared a mushroom pizza ($6.95-$9.99), to check out another of Frank & John's claims to local fame. It was delicious, with a tangy sauce and a crust tasty enough to finish off with more than Clean Plate Club compulsion.

The tomato sauces on two other dishes were equally savory. And on my stuffed veal parmigiana ($13.95) it was rich and copious. There was an eggplant mixture beneath and sweet ham and mozzarella on top of the fresh veal cutlet, for a combination of tastes that nicely kept their own characters. My side of penne wasn't al dente, but it wasn't badly overcooked, so I still ate heartily. Although the marinara was meatless with the baked manicotti ($6.75), it was robust from long cooking. Both the pasta shells and their ricotta filling were a bit dry, however.

One of our friends is a veal marsala fan, and when he saw scallops sauté marsala ($12.95) offered, he couldn't pass it up. The shellfish was fresh, the mushrooms were bountiful and the thickened sauce was winey, so he was pleased. Even though the kitchen was busy, another friend was able to get her cavatelli ($7.50) with an off-menu Alfredo sauce, which was richly creamy but not cloying. The homemade canoe-shaped pasta ordinarily come with both sausage and meatballs in a red sauce.

Frank and John and Sal feed their guests too well for many to have room for dessert, which, in any case, is no longer served. In family restaurants, as in families, sometimes when Mama goes "Eat! Eat! Eat!" the time comes to say "Enough! Enough! Enough!"