1 of 3
Photo credit: Andrew Friedman Photography
2 of 3
Photo credit: Andrew Friedman Photography
3 of 3
Photo credit: Andrew Friedman Photography
Every time you dine at a restaurant, there is an unwritten social contract. As a diner, your end of the bargain includes things like respecting the restaurant’s employees, paying your bill and refraining from drinking so much that you become a nuisance. The rules are pretty self-explanatory and can be summed up with, “Don’t be a jerk.” But what is a restaurant’s duty to the paying public?
Things on that side of the equation are usually a little murkier. Providing a safe, clean environment for dining and food prepared following specific procedures to ensure it is safe to eat are probably the most important two tenets, but there are others. Providing value—was this food and experience worth what I paid?—is extremely subjective, but important. If diners don’t perceive value, they won’t be back. And if the dishes delivered to your table don’t match the menu description, that’s eroding trust in the restaurant and perceived value.
At least in part, DiModa Pizza & Hotspot is no longer holding up its end of the social contract. For my recent visit, I did some research before going, as always. The goal is always to give restaurants the best chance of serving me something I’d enjoy.
As an unapologetic carb lover, the loco bread ($11), a popular appetizer, was a no-brainer. It’s described on the menu as an “Italian loaf filled with garlic, peppers, tomato, Italian cheeses, garlic butter, herbs baked and served with DiModa juice and marinara.” In photos, it looked fantastic and substantial. What arrived at my table was two slices of bread, each cut in half, topped with a little cheese and a dollop of marinara. No peppers, garlic, “juices” for dipping, and certainly no “filled loaf.” It was a shell of what it used to be, and didn’t even match the menu description. When questioned, the server confirmed it was the loco bread, and that it’s been served this way for months. A restaurant always has the right to change dishes whenever and however they like, but the menu description and price needs to change accordingly as well. It’s clear that hasn’t yet happened in this case.
Things only got marginally better with a pizza, the restaurant’s signature dish. The fuggedaboutit ($16) comes in one size, 13 inches, as all their pizzas do. It’s not the standard Milwaukee-style cracker crust, and it’s not Napoletana either, but Roman, according to DiModa. It’s got a thicker, chewy crust that forms large bubbles in the wood-fired oven. On this pizza, the toppings were skimpy and all chopped into small pieces, reminiscent of a frozen pizza, and opposite of how it had been presented in the past. The sausage was bland, as was the tomato sauce. What the menu states were caramelized cipollini onions were in fact just diced onions without a hint of caramelization or color on them.
Perhaps other toppings would have fared better. The spicy pep ($16) pizza is topped with Madison’s Underground Meats ghost pepper pepperoni, which may save the same “caramelized” cipollini that are on that pizza as well. Figs make an appearance on two different pizzas, the fig and prosciutto ($16) with honey balsamic; and a bacon, egg and fig ($15).
The meal got better with the 12-layer lasagna Bolognese ($16). It was a hefty portion and served in a bowl surrounded by sauce and dollops of ricotta cheese, making it by far the best value of the night, even if it was far from perfect. The pasta alternated between overcooked and gummy, and the short ribs were in the form of a big pile just sitting on top of the slice. It was disjointed, but would satisfy hungry carnivores.
Given that DiModa is in the building that was previously Trocadero, the patio and outdoor space is lovely and calm, and dog friendly. There’s even a special dog menu with items like puparoni pizza ($5) and peanut butter gelato topped with crushed dog treats ($3). It’s a nice spot for brunching on weekends when they offer goodies like limoncello French toast ($12) and a holdover from Trocadero, the Frenchie Bloody Mary ($9).
If you’ve visited DiModa in the past and enjoyed it, be prepared for possible changes on your next visit. If you know that going in, there is less of a chance of feeling slighted or duped, as I did. Hopefully, DiModa will examine what it currently offers and make changes to the menu accordingly
