Dino Dominici
 
His is one of those stories that makes you feel good about America.
 
Dino came from Italy in 1948. He proudly served his newly adopted country during the Korean Conflict, but not before graduating from Washington Park High School in 1950. After the Army, he returned to Racine to marry his sweetheart, Grace. Together, they opened their first restaurant on February 17, 1955.
 
The original "DINO'S" was located on this very lot. It was a modest establishment with ten stools and one table for two persons. But it was only the beginning and four years later Dino was already adding on. A small dining area was built to handle his ever-growing group of satisfied customers. Dino also expanded his menu to include a variety of Italian specialties and steaks. Yielding to friendly, yet persistent pressure from his customers, Dino added delivery service, beginning a 26-year tradition that continues to this day, delivering piping hot foods in heated oven to your door.
 
By 1966 business forced expansion once again. The original "DINO'S" made way for the restaurant that you are seated in. In 1980 a separate carry-out facility was added to the building. That same year, Dino found that his customers needed additional parking, so he purchased the adjacent property at 16th and Packard to expand his lot.
 
Still, there was more to do.
 
In 1981, the counter area was remodeled by F & S Fixtures (Dino's son-in-law) into a cocktail lounge.
 
Over the years, Dino has been recognized by groups within and outside the restaurant industry. He was elected President of the Southeast Chapter of the Wisconsin Restaurant Association. In 1982, Dino was given the "Golden Key Award" in recognition of his activity in the economic growth of the Racine area.
 
His colleagues named Dino "Restaurateur of the Year" in 1980 for his outstanding achievement in the restaurant business. And in 1985, Dino was again elected President of the WRA. In 1987, Dino was given the "Real Seal" Award from the Wisconsin Dairy Association for serving 100% dairy products in his fine restaurant.
 
Since 1955, Dino has believed in serving the best quality food at the best price. And he knows that without your support and the help of his family, none of what you have been reading about would have been possible.
 
Before we say "arrivederci", we must be absolutely certain that you have enjoyed your visit with us. If there has been even the smallest measure of disappointment, please tell us so that you will always remain our friend and customer to return again and again.
 
Thank you,
Dino Dominici


 

For casual Italian dining, Dino's can't be beat
 
As seen in the Journal Sentinel, Sunday, November 19, 2000
 
Two years ago, I went in search of the top 10 restaurants in Racine County.
 
Some names, such as the Corner House, the Summit, and Giovanni's on Eagle Lake, came to mind immediately. But I wasn't sure about others.
 
So I consulted an old friend who grew in Racine and lived there most of his adult life.
 
"Do you know about Dino's?" he asked.
 
I didn't. But I soon found out that Dino's Italian Restaurant belonged on my Top 10 list. It's one of those great casual Italian restaurants where diners can count on a good meal, whether they order a fancy dish like veal Parmesan ($14.95), a plate of homemade ravioli ($9.95), or a 12-inch house special pizza ($10).
 
The restaurant's history, recounted on its menu, reads like a classic immigrant success story. It starts in 1948 when Dino Dominici comes to America, mentions his service in the Korean War and recounts the opening of his first restaurant in 1955.
 
From there came a series of additions and expansions that ended with the restaurant in its present form: a casual, yet white-tablecloth dining room seating 50; a separate bar room with booths for a dozen more diners; and a busy carry-out counter.
 
Dino still supervises the restaurant's kitchen, and his wife, Grace, makes some of the pies and ravioli for which the restaurant has become known.
 
I've visited the restaurant twice in the last month and on both occasions, my dining companions and I skipped Dino's appetizer list to try two pizzas.
 
Much of the restaurant's reputation is built on pizza. From my first bite of a house special (we ordered the 12-inch as an appetizer), I could understand why that reputation is so strong.
 
Placed on a small pedestal platter on our table, the pizza could easily have been a candidate for award-winning food photography. Small lumps of browned Italian sausage, pink disks of Canadian bacon and thin slices of dark pepperoni glistened with mushrooms and fresh tomato slices beneath a canopy of cheese that had browned lightly in the high spots. The combination of flavors was marvelous.
 
We weren't as enthused about a new Dino's pizza specialty, Mexican pizza (a 12-inch cost $9.95). The meat was ground beef, browned with fairly common Mexican seasonings and laid on a standard pizza crust with diced tomatoes and onions, black olives and sliced jalapeno peppers. The cheese in this case was Colby Jack, which gave the pizza an orangish hue. The end result wasn't bad. It reminded me of a similar appetizer I'd tasted at parties. But my preference was for something that tasted more Italian.
 
That craving for tomato, Parmesan and the other flavors of Italy was satisfied in several other dishes at Dino's.
 
The best was an entrée of meat-filled ravioli ($9.95) that catapulted me back to my boyhood. In those days, I would often watch as my Calabrese-American mom carefully covered a wooden cutting board with a sheet of pastry, then dotted it with a meat filling seasoned with parsley and Parmesan cheese.
 
After covering her creation with another blanket of handmade dough, she would carefully cut around each little mound of filling with a fluted pastry wheel, press the edges of each square with the tines of a fork and set them on a clean dish towel to await their inevitable plunge into boiling salted water.
 
Grace Dominici's dumplings were a little bigger than my mom's, but I loved her dough and filling from the moment they burst open in my mouth. Beneath a bold, full-flavored tomato sauce, the six ravioli that made up an order were so good that I resented having to share one of them with my friend.
 
It turned out to be a good trade.
 
My dining companion cut me a hefty chunk of his eggplant Parmesan ($10.95), and I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten a version this good. What I liked most was that Dino had used slices of ham between the layers of eggplant, cheese and sauce. That smoky meat gave the casserole an outstanding flavor.
 
I wasn't as impressed with Chicken Vesuvio ($10.95). The dish started with twin boneless breasts baked with a mushroom-wine sauce. The sauce was a little thin and needed more flavor. As I ate the entrée, I remembered my first visit to Dino's two years ago and the veal Parmesan ($14.95) I'd eaten at that time. Thick and laden with Romano and mozzarella cheeses, that entrée had far more flavor than this chicken.
 
The final entrée I had, pasta primavera ($9.50), was a delightful departure from the familiar.
 
I usually avoid this dish because the vegetables and noodles it features are usually swimming in cream sauce. Dino's version was delightfully different in that its broccoli, green beans, zucchini and yellow squash and peppers had been sautéed in olive oil before being tossed with the pasta. The result was a dish in which the taste of the vegetables came through clearly, without the heavy mask of cream.
 
Other details of the dinners were mixed. While I appreciated the two types of Italian bread (one traditional and sesame-seeded, the other plain crusted and chewy), the house salads were mostly iceberg, and sleepy. A much better alternative was the chicken pastina soup, a fresh broth with meat, carrots and plenty of tiny pasta pearls.
 
For dessert, I enjoyed one of the house specialties, apple pie ($3), but found it a little too American. Serve me the crunchy, ricotta-filled cannoli ($2.95) instead any day.