There were kids of all ages scattered throughout the dining room at Mona’s. Their parents should receive gold stars for teaching their tykes there’s more to Italian restaurants than over-sweetened tomato sauces and (Olive) garden–variety chains.
Mona’s is Brendan Marsden’s reimagining of his former Modesto space on The Hill. Named after his mother (and partly in homage to the location), he’s subtitled it “An Italian–American Joint.” That’s tongue-in-cheek from several perspectives: He’s differentiating his place from the prevalent spaghetti-and-meatball establishments with huge plates of pasta frequently associated with The Hill. (Though Mona’s does offer spaghetti, it’s done with an unexpected approach.) Neither the food nor atmosphere would cause anyone to call this place a joint. And it’s certainly not just for kids.
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There are only four pasta offerings, but they’re all fresh pastas procured from Midwest Pasta, on Cherokee Street. Each has its own quirk. The spaghetti has a clinging, particulate sauce that explodes with flavor and offers the unexpected texture of oven-dried pesto mingling with asparagus and bacon crumbs. The gnocchi comes with pork belly but then goes even further afield with a roasted-corn cream sauce.
You’ll also find a half-dozen red (tomato sauce) and white (garlic béchamel sauce) pizzas with toppings, in addition to the naked varieties. We homed in on the artichoke, which is paired with fried kale, garlic, and lemon. The crust is ultrathin but still bends easily—the local style but with a nod to NYC.
If neither pizza nor pasta floats your boat, consider a grazing meal of the appetizers. Among these is an unusual approach to shrimp: pickled and served in a jelly jar. The fire of Calabrian chilies will tingle your tongue, balanced by the soothing qualities of lemon and basil. In another appetizer, the piquancy of Gorgonzola elevates simple bacon-wrapped dates.
For dessert? Again, Marsden and his team aim to elevate the predictable, creating a hybrid gooey butter cake–tiramisu. It’s a great sugar delivery mechanism, but the whole doesn’t quite exceed the sum of its parts.
Red-checked oilcloth tablecloths are a staple of an “Italian–American joint,” but, as with most everything else in the restaurant, Mona’s pulls a feint, switching from red to blue. Chianti bottle light fixtures in the bar are representative of the whimsical décor touches throughout the restaurant.
Some parents, I’m sure, will want to protect their kids from growing up too quickly, and for them there’s good ol’ spaghetti and meatballs on the children’s menu—though the sauce isn’t overly sweetened.
The Bottom Line: Brendan Marsden’s approach to an Italian–American restaurant is unlike anything else you’ll find on The Hill.
