Tre Colori – The Definition of "Fine, I Guess" If you’ve ever sat in a restaurant and thought, “I could have probably done this in my pajamas with a microwave and a dream,” then Tre Colori is the spot for you. It’s not a disaster, but it’s certainly not a destination. The Bread & Appetizers We started with the classic "Midsize Italian Restaurant" starter kit: that heavy, frozen loaf that’s been nuked until it’s hot enough to melt lead but remains entirely tasteless. It’s the kind of bread that sits in your stomach like a brick for the rest of the night. The "Buffalo" Caprese: They claimed it was Buffalo mozzarella. My taste buds—and anyone who has ever been to a Metro grocery store—would disagree. It had all the hallmarks of a Saputo plastic tub special. The Meatballs: These were "homemade" in the sense that they were made by a human who seemingly has a personal vendetta against spices. Decent size, sure, but they clearly skipped the Parmesan or Romano in the mix. It was just... round meat. The Calamari: Surprisingly, the highlight of the starters. It wasn't too oily. It didn't change my life, but it didn't ruin my night either. The Main Event I went for the Veal Parmesan with Spaghetti Meat Sauce. The veal was actually quite tender, which was a pleasant shock to the system. However, the spaghetti meat sauce was a bit of a tragic affair—very watery and "meat-adjacent" at best. I spent most of the course hunting for the actual beef in the sauce. It was less of a meal and more of a soup with noodles. The Verdict The one true standout was our waitress. She was genuinely very nice and likely the only thing keeping the place afloat. Will I go back? Probably not. It’s the kind of place you go to once, shrug your shoulders, and then forget exists by the time you hit the parking lot.
