La Focaccia

References to focaccia seem to be all over the place — in restaurants, supermarkets, bakeries — but versions worthy of the name are difficult to find. There’s plenty of decent ciabatta around and other peasant-style Italian breads, but not focaccia. It seems it’s always too flat, too pale, too lacking in character.

Which it is not, as it turns out, at La Focaccia. Yes, the name alone should be a clue, but that’s frequently not the case, as you and I both know thanks to all of those greasy spoons that carry "fine dining" in their names. Thankfully it is here, in large part because chef/owner Giacomo Zarcone has been baking it since his teenage years in Italy.

So yes, focaccia plays a substantial role at La Focaccia, though that’s not obvious from looking at the menu. There are two dishes listed as "Our Famous Focaccias," which seem to be sort of pizzalike, incorporating ingredients such as caramelized onions and gorgonzola cheese and roasted garlic. We skipped those in large part because we hadn’t yet learned the magic of La Focaccia’s focaccia, but we were to discover that soon.

First was the bread that was brought to the table — focaccia, of course, warm, cut into broad strips and served with a saucer of extra-virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar for dipping. The thick bread had the characteristic spongy crumb and brittle (but not crunchy) crust, and it soaked up the oil and vinegar efficiently.

Then there was a starter of bruschetta ($9.95). The menu didn’t say much about it so we expected the usual too-crunchy sliced generic Italian, but again it was focaccia, this time with the strips toasted lightly on the grill. On the side were cups of olive tapenade, roasted cloves of garlic and an excellent version of the usual bruschetta topping, which is diced tomatoes with olive oil and garlic and basil. We also had an appetizer of fresh mozzarella with roasted red peppers ($9.95) and they were perfectly cooked, no doubt housemade — not slimy like the prepared stuff, but with the pulpy texture of a just-cooked pepper, juiced up with the flavor of the olive-oil marinade. So imagine the focaccia with all of these toppings and the mozzarella and the peppers and you’ll see we had a bang-up beginning to our dinner.

But unfortunately, our entrees didn’t measure up. A dish of spinach and ricotta ravioli with tomato and browned butter and sage ($10.95) was intriguing because while browned butter and sage are a frequent partnership, they’re seldom joined by tomato sauce. As it turned out, the tomato sauce was very, very lightly seasoned. That had the effect of giving the glaze of browned butter its time in the spotlight, but even with the crisp-fried leaves of sage, it needed a little oomph. And the plump pillows of spinach pasta, with their neutral filling, would’ve been better if they hadn’t been lukewarm.

Our other entree was an Italian-restaurant standard, chicken pizzaola ($16.95). There was more flavor in this one and the chicken was cooked just right, but there was an abundance of grease in the dish that definitely took the bloom off the rose. Both entrees were a little disappointing but not terribly so, the shortcomings easily remedied.

Service throughout was fine. This is a fairly small spot, though the neutral colors provide a sleekness and the open kitchen provides an air of spaciousness.

And as I write this, I keep thinking about that focaccia. Making it is clearly a particular talent, and it’s one that Zarcone clearly possesses. We no longer will overlook La Focaccia or its focaccia, and we recommend that you don’t, either.

Las Vegas Review-Journal reviews are done anonymously at Review-Journal expense. Contact Heidi Knapp Rinella at 383-0474 or e-mail her at hrinella@reviewjournal.com.