JP’s Bistro
496 Woodford St., Portland
899.4224
jpsportland.com

Indentifying a meal as “Italian” can be misleading. Are we talking fresh-off-the-boat Sicilian? Or is this the food my grandmother would make, mixing cans of mushroom soup with macaroni and calling it pasta alla funghi? JP’s Bistro, a popular neigborhood spot on Woodford Street, falls somewhere between these extremes.

On a recent wintery evening a friend and I ventured off the peninsula for dinner at JP’s. The setting — exposed brick, honey-colored wood, and a blackboard featuring the nightly specials — hews to well-established restaurant motifs. It’s a cozy, casual atmosphere, made all the cozier thanks to limited seating. My friend and I were seated at one of a handful of tables; there are also several seats at the bar, which runs along a front window and lends an almost pub feel to JP’s.

Our waitress, chatty and well versed on the menu, deftly answered every question we tossed her way. She also happened to be the night’s bartender, so she gave us a thorough rundown of the specialty cocktails. I reluctantly passed up an intriguing-sounding jalapeño margarita, pulled in by the siren call of a whiskey ginger ($10). My companion ordered the sangria ($8). The sangria wasn’t notable, but the whiskey ginger — made with fresh muddled ginger and bitters in place of ginger ale — was a winner.

Between the printed menu and the specials board we had over two dozen mostly meat- and seafood-centered entrées to choose from. (Vegetarians will be less overwhelmed; there are few vegetarian offerings. Options widen if you’re a fish eater and shrink to roughly zero if you’re vegan.)

A small loaf of warm bread, served with garlic butter, came out first. Then we got started with a couple of appetizers. Crab stuffed mushrooms ($10), one of the night’s specials, sounded too good to pass up. We enjoyed these toothsome bites — the button mushrooms provided a nice, chewy contrast to the soft crab stuffing. Prince Edward Island mussels ($10) were distinctly less enjoyable. The tiny, rather tough mussels came swimming in a salty tomato broth flecked with chunks of pepper and tomato. The menu had promised chorizo (that smoky, piquant Iberian charcuterie), but our mussels were paired with something that tasted more like Sysco’s finest Italian sausage. The textures and flavors of this dish, overall, did not blend well.

photo/HJM

We turned our hopes to the main course. My friend’s entrée, the seafood marinara ($21), featured a healthy portion of seafood — scallops, haddock, baby clams and plump pink shrimp — on a bed of pasta cooked on the soft side of al dente. My friend didn’t mind, but this made me raise an eyebrow. Missing the al dente mark at an Italian bistro? As for the garlicky “Fra Diavolo” tomato sauce (named for the Devil himself), the heat was the sort that builds slowly, bite after bite. Beyond its spicy kick, however, the sauce lacked dimension, and it did little to liven up the seafood, which looked good but didn’t taste like much.

Sticking to the devilish theme, I went for a sinfully rich dish. “We have one customer who comes in and says, ‘Give me that naughty chicken,’” our waitress said with a wink. Indeed, Old Scratch himself might balk at the calorie count on the chicken romana ($18). A boneless, skinless chicken breast — filleted, then pounded flat (with about as much depth of flavor) — came drowned in a romano-cheese gravy that, like most of the night’s dishes, had been salted with a heavy hand. A generous side of decadent garlic mashed potatoes gave the meal a comfort-food feel. A helping of mixed vegetables — green and yellow zucchini, peppers and carrots — had been sautéed just to the point of tenderness and tasted great thanks to a splash of chicken broth. I polished off the vegetables but felt uninspired to finish the rest of my dish, leaving plenty of room for dessert.

To wrap things up, my friend and I split the carrot cake ($10), baked by none other than our waitress (what can’t she do?). The cream-cheese frosted cake, moist and liberally studded with walnuts and raisins, was a treat. We polished it off in short order.

Plenty of places make an art out of reinterpreting Italian classics, but JP’s take on Italian reminds me a little to much of my grandma’s. The dishes are executed without any particular finesse. Sourcing local, ethical or organic ingredients doesn’t seem to be important at JP’s. And a mediocre meal doesn’t cut it when the tab for two approaches $100. That said, plenty of folks don’t share my qualms. If you decide to check out JP’s, make sure you make reservations — the place gets packed.

— Hannah Joyce McCain

JP’s Bistro serves dinner Tuesday–Saturday beginning at 4 p.m.