I wish someone had told me about Palio before the end of my junior year. Whenever I heard about Italian food in Ann Arbor, there was only mention of Gratzi on the high end and Mia Za’s on the low. And while both are good for their respective reasons, I’m here to report there is an option in the middle: Palio.
Situated at the intersection of William and Main Street, Palio is certainly hard to miss. The brick exterior is clumsily painted in a pastel yellow, broken up only by streaks of light gray paint assembled into faux cracks and worn areas; the result is a corner joint that looks as if it’s falling into disrepair. Circus-like awnings span the front of the building, shading patrons eating out on the sidewalk, and the rooftop is decorated with long strings of lighted bulbs. It all effectively conveys exactly what it means to: “Italian roadside cooking in a convivial setting.”
And convivial it is. When I think about it, the multiple times I’ve been to Palio have all been to celebrate my or a friend’s birthday. The setting is so conducive to laid-back conversation, drinks and good food that it’s an automatic choice for such gatherings.
I’m immediately suckered in to the appeal of Palio by its electronic menus. A trend that’s becoming more and more popular, the menu is perused by flipping through virtual pages on the restaurant’s Android tablets. And besides the obvious novelty, it’s also practical. Each dish has a pop-up picture for you to drool over and suggested wine pairings from the programmed-in sommelier. Moreover, you can sort the wine list by color, price, body and a number of other cool features to put even the most novice oenophile at ease. But fret not, technology haters: The old-fashioned waitstaff is equally as helpful and knowledgeable.
We start with glasses of dry wine that we pretend to appreciate, and move on quickly to the more appealing bread and oil. As long as they don’t run out right before closing, Palio serves up its house-made bread, which is crusty on the outside and chewy, tacky on the inside. It’s perfect for dipping in the table’s dark green extra-virgin olive oil (first press, I’m sure), sea salt and freshly cracked black pepper. My only complaint is that the bread isn’t served warm.
The appetizers (“antipasti”) are hit and miss, taste-wise. The pizzas and bruschetta are mediocre, but the mussels are quite good. Served in an interesting departure from the norm — a tomato-cream combination broth spiked with saffron threads — the appetizer makes both a good first bite for a mussels-loving table to share or an entrée for those with smaller appetites.
The main courses tend to be more uniform in grade. They’re not out-of-this-world amazing, but also fall far from flat. In other words, I’ve never been wowed by the food, but it’s always satisfying. The Cavatappi con Pollo, Pumate e Pesto — grilled chicken breast, sundried tomatoes, pesto and cream — is a safe choice enjoyed by all. And with prices comparable to Olive Garden, Palio is my pick over the tired chain any day.
The food I can brag about here, though, is the dessert. Made fresh every day, the rotating list of sweet finishes leaves nothing to desire. There’s dense carrot cake, rich gelato, smooth panna cotta, crunchy-creamy cannolis and more. But one dessert “takes the cake.”
The tiramisu is immaculate perfection. Its ladyfingers have soaked up just the right amount of espresso and booze and are layered between generous slathers of whipped, sweet mascarpone heaven. Topped with cocoa powder and made to share (or not), this popular Italian dessert is a must.
And while winter finds you noshing — obligatorily — inside, one of the most attractive offerings at Palio otherwise is the seasonal option to sit outside. The Palio Del Sol, the rooftop at Palio, is an experience that I wholly recommend to each and every University student. At no other place in Ann Arbor can you sip Pinot Gris and fork hot ravioli under a dimly lit patio while overlooking the hustle and bustle of Main Street. It’s as close as my mind and body can get to what I imagine dinner in Florence to be. At the hour of a summer’s dusk, there’s no better place.
So — inside or outside — pull up a chair. Swipe through the menu. Dip your bread. Pry open a mussel. Savor dessert and, more importantly, the friends surrounding you who are doing the same. Rinse (with wine), and on the next birthday, repeat.