Beyond Mid-day
We tried dinner at a favorite Springfield lunch stop, Nearly Famous Deli & Pasta House. Did the evening meal stack up?
By Katie Pollock
Photo by Edward Biamonte
DON’T FORGET DINNER: At Nearly Famous, owners have long been trying to keep from being pigeonholed as a lunch place.
Our server, Chad, was delightful. We felt taken care of, but he had an endearing personality as well. Besides being cheerful, he was full of witty banter. After we both accepted his offer of cracked black pepper on our salads, he responded, “Of course. Cracked black pepper makes everything better, just like ranch.” I can’t say I agree with the “just like ranch” part, but I thought it was kind of adorable either way. Needless to say, we felt like he wanted us there and wanted us to enjoy the heck out of our meal. He was sort of like the young, hip, male version of the motherly woman behind the diner counter in the movies: The one who calls you “hun” and knows exactly how you like your eggs and exactly when to top off your cup of coffee.
As a starter, we tried the spanakopita ($6.99) with a mildly spicy creamy Dijon dipping sauce on the side and sesame seeds sprinkled on top. These little spinach and feta cheese–filled phyllo dough triangles were my favorite part of the meal. They were hot and fresh when they came out, delicately flaky on the outside and steaming and soft on the inside. This is a vulgar comparison that I hope will not offend Nearly Famous Deli & Pasta House, but when I was a kid, I considered Totino’s Pizza Rolls to be a delicacy because my mom, who actually cooked, never kept our freezer stocked with those little guys. And I remember biting into them at a friend’s house, pizza innards burning my tongue, and thinking they were the most delicious little pockets of tastiness on earth.
I felt that same delight eating the Nearly Famous spanakopita. I don’t mean that in a “these taste like frozen pizza bites” way. They are my more gourmet, more “real-food,” more grown-up version of the compact treat of my youth. And the dijon dipping sauce was the perfect complement.
I’ve had lunch at Nearly Famous several times. It’s a great spot for a workday meal. Service is super-speedy; food is reliably delicious and affordable. That speediness was perhaps the restaurant’s only downfall at dinnertime. Our entrées came out just minutes after our salads; we’d barely begun eating them and hadn’t even touched our rolls. At that point the table was a wee bit overrun with plates because our full salads were still in front of us. We enjoyed the salads, though. The artichoke hearts and other veggies were perfect with the tangy house dressing and Parmesan cheese. Simple, but very good.
Kari ordered the Italian shrimp ($13.99), which she described as “refreshing” because the garlic butter sauce was surprisingly light. The shrimp came tossed with spaghetti, Parmesan cheese and fresh and crunchy (not overcooked and mushy) green and red bell peppers.
I ordered the braccioli ($12.99), which was a serving of thin roast beef slices filled with a stuffing of Parmesan cheese, onions, mushrooms and black olives. It had a generous amount of melted provolone on top, which was covered with marinara and Parmesan cheese. On the side was creamy fettuccini alfredo.
It was very tasty and an interesting combination of textures, but traditionally braccioli has a pounded-down cutlet or other cut of beef rather than slices of roast beef. Next time I’ll probably order the steak shiitake (which the menu says has a cognac demiglaze) or the peppercorn steak (with an Absolut Peppar vodka demiglaze: yum!). I guess booze on beef sounds good to me.
Also for my next trip, I have big plans for dessert. The choices are numerous, with spumoni and tiramisù mixed in among carrot cake, lemon bars, a few kinds of cheesecake and more. If we hadn’t filled up on the generous meal portions, I would have been all over that spumoni. Nope, I won’t forget about dinner.
Nearly Famous Deli & Pasta House
2708 S. Glenstone Ave., Springfield, 417-883-3403, nearlyfamous.net
11 a.m.–9 p.m., Mon.–Thurs.
11 a.m.–10 p.m., Fri.–Sat.
$–$$, - P




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