Tuscany, a region located in north central Italy, is known for its simple, rustic cuisine: country dishes with a focus on local, seasonal ingredients prepared with minimal fuss. In the last few years, I’ve noticed “Tuscan” thrown around quite freely as a vague intensifier of Italian cuisine, possibly because of its resonance with consumers who trust its specificity to mean “more authentic.” Many of the “Tuscan” restaurants I’ve visited over the years do not serve food indicative of its origin’s namesake, but rather safe, generic, Americanized Italian food. Taste of Tuscany is another of these restaurants.

Sit down to a great Italian restaurant, and you are served fresh, crusty, housemade bread with extra virgin olive oil and aged balsamic vinegar for dipping. At Taste of Tuscany, semi-soft, braided breadsticks may accompany your meal, smeared with butter. You’ll find very little butter in a true Tuscan meal, but plenty of olive oil – the region’s most prized product next to wine.

Antipasto (meaning “before the meal”) usually consists of cured meats, fine cheeses, olives, peppers and pickled or grilled vegetables drizzled in olive oil and served with bread. Here, the dish ($13) was a nice plate with prosciutto, dry salami, Greek olives, pepperoncini, and gouda, but no olive oil. The Colby jack cheese seemed out of place, as did the assorted packets of Sunshine crackers in lieu of bread. Another somewhat satisfying appetizer was the Lobster Hash Cakes ($13), three decent-sized patties of lobster meat, vegetables, and potato, breaded and griddled golden brown. But the red-pepper and fennel “compote” (I believe “coulis” is the word they meant to print on the menu) was watery and bland. The Bruschetta ($9), oiled and grilled bread with a pile of rough-chopped olive, tomato and cilantro, was good, but kind of a do-it-yourself affair, to which I was not accustomed.

Dinner entrees didn’t impress me. First, the accompanying dinner salad was ho-hum: mixed greens with a slice of canned beet, one Kalamata olive and a thin, crunchy breadstick, available with ranch, Thousand Island or bleu cheese dressings (how Tuscan), or raspberry or maple/balsamic vinaigrette. I went with the latter two, and found both to be unpalatably sweet. Pastas are overcooked and poorly sauced. The Spaghetti Bolognese ($19) consisted of noodles too far past al dente, topped with a sauce of beef tenderloin, tough, rehydrated wild mushrooms and a boring marinara. The Scallop Linguine ($19) featured previously frozen, spongy, overcooked scallops (with “foot” muscles still attached) surrounding soft linguine with whole roasted garlic (containing the hard root-end), sun-dried tomatoes, parmesan cheese and herbs in a sour sauce of reduced white wine. A drizzling of good olive oil may have cut the acidity and redeemed this dish. I was excited to try the Gnocchi (pronounced nyo-ki, $16), a soft, pillowy, potato dumpling, but was disappointed by the dense, chewy balls of dough drowned in a sweet sauce of Marsala, sun-dried tomatoes, pine nuts and sage. The Filet Mignon ($27) was perfectly cooked, but its accompaniments were a little perplexing. The risotto beneath was too cheesy, the onion rings and brown gravy on the plate were a complete surprise and decidedly un-Tuscan. The filling of Boursin cheese (a brand of soft cow’s-milk cheese from France, not “herbed goat cheese” as the often incorrect “Culinary Terms” section of the menu would have you believe) had melted and seeped completely from its beefy cave. And it doesn’t get less Tuscan than greasy pepperoni pizza and meatball sandwiches. I tried both, and was disappointed anew. Interestingly, the French fries, also available with the Tuscan staple dishes of Fish & Chips ($15) and Old Fashioned Beach Burger ($9), were exactly the same as Burger King’s. Exactly. Now as far as fast food restaurants go, Burger King’s fries are good, but I expected a higher grade fry, possibly hand-cut or skin-on, from a “fine dining” establishment like Taste of Tuscany.

Desserts are hit and miss. The crme brulee ($6) was really good, but the basil ice cream that comes on top is not only unnecessary, but redundant (crème brûlée is cooked crème anglaise, the foundation for ice cream) and bad. It sat atop the custard’s caramelized crust like a pile of green-flecked cottage cheese. Icy, crumbly, and bland, it was not smooth, creamy, sweet or cohesive, all important traits in ice cream. A tiramisu I tried was really a slice of tiramisu-style cake, devoid of ladyfingers or mascarpone cheese, and served with an unwelcome strawberry sauce.

My advice to Taste of Tuscany: Change your name or change your menu. You want to be about lasagna, spaghetti and meatballs and fettucine alfredo? Call yourself something like “Guiseppe’s” and get some red and white checkered tablecloths. Otherwise, have the confidence to serve true Tuscan-style food without feeling the need to pander to everyone.

Hire a baker or buy great bread from a great bakery.

Have your chef and cooks taste every dish before it leaves the kitchen.

Get cloth napkins instead of the “rolled-up-in-paper” presentation.

Lose the “Culinary Terms” section on the menu. I know you’re trying to educate, but serious foodies and educated eaters take offense to its tone and mistakes.

Turn down the music a little.

Don’t change a thing about the service; it’s great!

– The Mouth