This Secret Restaurant Inside a VFW Post is a Local Institution
For those in the know, Mike's Kitchen, inside the Tabor-Franchi Post, tastes just like an Italian Nonna's cooking.
The polenta at Mike’s Kitchen. Photo by Mary Lioce-Narvell.
I have a hunger for comfort food. Growing up in Cranston in a family of 100 percent southern Italian heritage, it isn’t a stretch to know this translates to tomato sauce more accurately known as “ragu.”
With my favorite formal watering hole, the Old Canteen, now sadly shuttered, I thankfully can still rely on my fail-safe, no-frills option for hometown cooking. So, when I am back in Rhode Island from the United Kingdom, where I usually hang my “cappello” (Italian for hat), thank goodness for Mike’s Kitchen, the Tabor-Franchi VFW Post 2396 at 170 Randall Street in Cranston.
The VFW post has a secret restaurant inside it called Mike’s Kitchen.
Folklore has it the owners of the swank Al Forno came to Mike’s when the original eponymous chef, Mike Lepizzera was still alive (he died in 2017). They savored his creamy polenta. Those who grew up on this Italian staple, now surprisingly on many an upmarket menu, can understand why. When my grandmother died, her four daughters pulled straws for her most treasured possessions. Among these was the short smoothly turned wooden pole she used to stir polenta for hours, keeping it creamy rather than lumpy. My mother won the prize, so I can say with some modest authority, we know a bit about this cornmeal dish that is a staple in the “cucina povera” menu.
Served in various ways – creamy, baked, fried or grilled – and often the base for sauces or as an accompaniment to meat dishes instead of pasta, the hardest to perfect is the creamy version. But Mike knew the trick and still today the chefs at “the Post” spin his magic, turning out a light and flavorful slice of polenta made even better by a side of sausage or meatballs. When I am homesick, I dream about this dish, counting the days until I land in Rhode Island and make a beeline to Mike’s to inhale it.
Inside Mike’s Kitchen’s no-frills dining room.
Thankfully, there are other tantalizing treats to lure me to this linoleum-floored venue in a VFW post. While recently renovated to a sleek grey, the absence of beige paneling and collection of flags hasn’t diluted the casual atmosphere of bare tables and hungry diners who haven’t made my long “commute.” After I pay a separate tab, only in cash, for my glass of wine or cocktail from the dedicated waitress, I start with the smelts. Whitebait fish so fresh and delicately breaded and fried that I can still see their tiny spines, I almost expect them to jump into my mouth. Having sampled these all over Italy, I can say that Mike’s version is among the best I have ever tasted. Accompanied by pickled peppers and a lemon or two, they prep my palate for the next dish.
Fried smelts at Mike’s Kitchen.
The choice is difficult. Favorites like chicken in wine or the Friday special cavatelli with broccoli used to be already crossed off the menu whiteboard (a sad casualty of the renovations) if I was late to the table. Now the waitress announces if your popular choice went “presto,” gobbled up by diners before you. However, the chicken with cannellini beans is a savory delight that bears none of the disappointing hallmarks of a second choice. Indeed, nothing on Mike’s menu is a bad bet, all of it rooted in the cooking the diners know is redolent of their nonna’s kitchens.
A photo pays tribute to the original Mike Lepizzera in the restaurant.
That is really the secret to Mike’s. The food doesn’t just deliver flavors that are familiar. It delivers a taste of home. This is perhaps the hardest recipe to perfect, but one that obviously resonates with the line of hungry customers who wait patiently to grab a table. They know that, once seated, they will find the “gravy” (translation tomato sauce) they didn’t have to labor over a stove for hours to simmer to perfection. Veal will be hammered thin, and delicious, sparing their elbows from any stress using their own mallets. Meatballs will be that recognizable chewy density that holds its own against the pasta delivered “al dente” without asking. And, if your preference veers more to eggplant, fear not. This staple is also a menu choice, and your taste buds will sing “grazie” [thank you].
While “the Post” doesn’t pretend to be fancy, it delivers an upmarket experience for a low market price, if flavor and portions are your barometers for excellence. Whether you choose the largest artichoke appetizer you have ever encountered, even before it is stuffed, or you decide to split the ample portions to preserve your waistline, you won’t go home hungry. Make sure you bring cash – credit cards not accepted – and your appetites. Then settle in and think about grandmas. If mine were still alive, even she would admit Mike’s Kitchen is tough competition.
