We had dinner at Pinguini last night with another couple, and let me just say… this meal was a bit of a journey.

We started out strong on the lovely patio with wine and Arnold Palmers (note: beer and wine only here). The vibe? Excellent. The expectations? High. The timeline? …unclear.

Our server was very nice and kept apologizing for the slow service, which we appreciated—but also… we had time to really reflect on our life choices between courses.

Thankfully, warm bread showed up early and stayed loyal to us throughout the evening. Honestly, MVP behavior.

For starters, we had the Caesar Salad with “homemade” croutons that tasted like they clocked in from a box. The salad itself was fine… lots of lettuce, minimal personality. Not offensive, just not memorable.

We also tried the Zuppa di Vegetali (basically minestrone), which my husband enjoyed—so we’ll give that a win.

Now for the mains 🍝

The Linguine Mare (clams, shrimp, mussels, calamari in a white wine sauce) looked like it was about to do something exciting… but the bite I had was pretty bland. My husband and our friend both ordered it and seemed happy, so maybe I just caught a shy forkful.

I went with the Chicken Milanese, which arrived looking… modest. And by modest, I mean small and a little dry—even with a side of piccata sauce trying its best to revive it.

Our fourth diner had the Piccata al Limone Pollo, which was probably the most solid dish of the table—classic, lemony, buttery, doing what it needed to do.

By the time we considered dessert, everyone but my ship had sailed. No one wanted to sit any longer, so we didn’t have any dessert. This is why I always say, “Eat dessert first!”