Palazzo's — Restaurant in Houston

Palazzo's is a favorite of ours for its food, casual home style atmosphere, and a 'no pretensions staff' of worker bees who focus on your needs, not theirs! At least that was then, not the latest visit. Perhaps the season, December, is a time that kills or wounds good things with Reindeer, a sleigh and bells?

The Christmas Parties were numerous while families of all types milled about with thinning service. Our food was delivered promptly enough, but the quality was less than past servings. We had settled on two appetizers, Calamari and Crab Cakes in ver blanc sauce and a carafe of house cabernet wine, which was very, very good! The food was mediocre even for Christmas Rush times. Neither the preparation nor seasoning reached the level of average. Add the lack of birthday recognition usually given to each customer here, we were surprised, but somewhat understanding of how huge crowds can over come all the best good intentions. Maybe next time will be better.

The bartender, our host, waiter, and conductor, was at best, distracted by all his surroundings and his lack of prior social encounters requiring some conversational skills beyond nodding. No smiles. Just nods. He was MIA a vast portion of our time at 'the bar'. We patiently waited for the usual offers of upgrades, acknowledgements of my lady's announced birthday, and some sort of 'special' for just being there on a birthday in December's madness! None were offered.

We passed our time talking, eating, and watching as groups came and went. The highlight of our evening, my lady's birthday, was lifted when a family with three children at a table near us arose to leave demonstrating their skills at raising, beautiful, well behaved children. They were so precious my lady walked over to praise them to their mother who swooned with joy hearing her approval.

On that good note we bid Palazzo's goodnight, good morrow, and better luck anew year. We do not count The Palazzo's out, only distracted by the same brain fog now infesting all things once warm and fuzzy in our assaulted American Culture. Love never dies, but it does take leave for another time when ignored. Palazzo's will revamp...

Happy to say the food was excellent. But have you ever felt like you were the first customer a restaurant has ever served? So many blunders and missteps. We were early on a Saturday night so decided to sit at the bar for company. Restaurant had only a couple of tables seated. Ordered Topo Chico and lime. Bartender said we don’t have Topo Chico. Asked if they have another sparkling water. I’ll check. Yes we have this other. I said fine. Sets the bottle at his edge of the counter. Hubby orders a beer. Bartender asks if he want’s a cold glass. I ask for a glass as well. He sets a wine glass with a lemon wedge beside the bottle at his edge of the bar. I say, I’d prefer a lime. We don’t have any at the bar, do you want me to check in the back. Yes (duh). Comes back and says we don’t carry limes, only lemon. Okay. Finally, I reach for bottle, unscrew the top and pour my water into the glass. Manager comes and asks if he can do that for me. Yes (duh). Introduces himself as the new manager and tells us to please tell him if there’s anything he can do. I say, offer limes. He goes to the back and comes back and says “the owner won’t stock limes, only lemon”. OMG. Bread basket comes out, set at bartender’s edge of bar. Few minutes go by. Husband has to ask if we can have small plates for the bread. I ask bartender what type of crust is the gluten free. I don’t know, do you want me to ask? YES (DUH). It’s potato and rice flour. Okay. We order two small pizzas. Pizzas come out and they set them in front of each of us. Husband has to ask for plates. And do you have a rack to set the pizza on? Yes we have them. Do you want one. OMG!! Thankfully, It was delicious. Asked for to go box, manager brings large box. Ask for smaller one. Ask for check. Pay and leave. Can’t...

Palazzo’s Trattoria – A Real Italian Joint (But Where’s the Freakin’ Tortellini?!)

Ayy, lemme tell ya somethin’—Palazzo’s Trattoria? This place is the real freakin’ deal. You walk in, you smell that sauce simmerin’, you hear Sinatra croonin’ in the background—you just know you’re about to eat like a king. The atmosphere? Like Sunday dinner at Ma’s house. The service? Like family—but not the kinda family that asks you for a “small loan” and don’t pay it back.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love this joint. The chicken parm? Fugettaboutit. Perfectly crispy, loaded with sauce, and just the right amount of cheese. The garlic bread? So good I almost stuffed some in my pocket for later. And the Gelato? Fuhgeddaboudit! One bite and I had a tear rollin’ down my cheek, like I was back at Nonna’s kitchen table.

But listen, Palazzo, we gotta talk. I open the menu, I see ravioli, I see gnocchi, I see a seafood linguine that looks like it belongs in a freakin’ art gallery—but where’s the tortellini?! You call this a real Italian restaurant and you ain’t servin’ tortellini?! That’s like openin’ a deli and not sellin’ prosciutto. It’s disrespectful, is what it is. My Nonna’s up there watchin’, crossin’ her arms, shakin’ her head like, “Madonna mia, what is dis?!”

So here’s what’s gonna happen—I’m comin’ back, no question. The food’s too good not to. But Palazzo, paisan, next time I walk in, I better see some tortellini on that menu, or we gonna have a problem. Capisce?

4.5 stars. Add the tortellini, and we talkin’...