You would have to be over 65 and taste-bud impaired to call Fabrocini’s anything other than the laziest example of Italian food in Los Angeles. The bland red sauce that adorns most of the dishes wouldn’t even be considered savory if it came out of jar. What’s worse, all dishes are so heavy-handed with said sauce or cheese that anything that lies beneath gets laid to waste amid the average Italian tsunami.
The chicken parm, for example, is smothered in enough cheese to spackle a dry wall then breaded with enough coating to double as a catcher’s mitt. Not in any one bite do you actually taste the chicken. The mushroom lasagna which boasts “three kinds of mushrooms” on the whiteboard maybe does have three kinds of shrooms, but it’s one slice of each and the rest gluey waves of pasta and more of that over-whelming melted cheese.
It seems the kitchen has a heavy hand when it comes to everything that should be subtle. Both the Minestrone and red-based Zuppa di Clams are so salty you’ll think you dove into the ocean to retrieve the bowl.
The dinner entrees are pricey all starting at $19 and a rip for the quality and quantity that you get. The ambience is chintzy and old school with tables and chairs your aunt probably had in her kitchen when you were young.
And, seriously, any Italian restaurant that misspells their staple ingredient “tomatoe” on the menu cannot be trusted.
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