They are actually trying here, to replicate an American-style brew pub restaurant. The problem is, none of the people involved actually have any idea what makes brew pubs special. It's a bit like what would happen if someone from Armenia tried to start a sushi restaurant back home, just from the vague memory of having been to one on holiday once. It's a nice idea, but it's probably not going to work.
"Da Joe" is a strange creature to find in an Italian town like Pavia, particularly under Italian management. It's around the corner from the B&B where I stayed, in a neighborhood short on options, so I had both lunch and dinner at Joe's. At lunch there was traditional Italian fare as well as things as non-Italian as Goulash, which ran out fast. I had pasta Carbonara and found it too salty though otherwise acceptable. The most notable things about lunch were the music, which was quite literally "Muzak" covers of sappy radio ballads from 1970's America and made me feel like I was ten years old, waiting to see the dentist; then their impatience at the end of lunch hour -- they want everyone out by 2:58pm so they can close no later than three. The stoical, humorless staff will help get you going if you happen not to have noticed that your presence is no longer wanted.
At dinner, the owner and his wife were replaced by a younger crew which included a chef who looks like he got out of prison last week. We were shown to a table immediately next to a college student doing his homework. The music was different from lunchtime: now it was 1990's Brit Pop, including worn-out bits by Franz Ferdinand and Oasis. It's the kind of music which makes you hope there is a special hell which awaits radio station programmers and record executives when they die.
I had a hamburger and fries. Both had clearly been cooked long before I ordered them, and were re-heated before serving. The fries had been thawed from frozen then baked in an oven, dry. The burger patties were half the radius of the bun and as thick as meatballs, cooked to dry toughness then stacked, creating a nearly inedible pile of misinterpreted American cuisine.
We also had the nachos, which were more of an outright invention than simple misinterpretation: a full plate of white corn chips with a small amount of melted white cheese poured over them, sprinkled with paprika. It was as if nachos had been ordered from China, via a British catalog.
Da Joe greets you with a friendly-feeling bar area when you walk in, and hosts a number of craft beers, both on tap and in bottles. Throughout, it has an inviting and cozy atmosphere. If it had a friendlier staff, better music, and a menu of food which is actually understood by the person cooking it, Joe's could be a nice little discovery for tourists and locals alike. read more
