Secret lives of Carmichael diners

The Lido Bar & Grill is the best-kept secret in Carmichael. It says so right there on the family-friendly eatery’s Web site. It also happens to be true.

“At least four times a week, people who live in Carmichael say they never knew we were here,” says Shawna Rivera, who along with her husband, Don, has managed to keep their restaurant off Carmichael’ radar screen for 17 years running. A possible reason for the anonymity is that Lido is in a dark-wood, low-slung building that doesn’t exactly feature a Crest Theatre-like neon marquee.

Shawna says that when someone comes to the Lido, “You’re in our home.” She’s right. The décor is a little kitschy, a little cozy and a lot like Grandma’s place, with a lifetime of knicks and knacks bric-a-bracking in perfect harmony.

Breakfast and lunch are the staples here. Dinner is offered only Thursday, Friday and Saturday and, even then, lights out at 9 p.m. As for breakfast, the cinnamon rolls are killer, and there are really no bad choices for omelets, which are all $7.95, except the veggie one at $7. Were the proverbial gun placed to the temple, the Hot & Spicy—three eggs, ham, sautéed jalapeños, onions, peppers, cheese—or Miss Piggy, with bacon and Swiss, would get the call. The $10.95 chicken-apple sausage brunch special with mushrooms, onions and cheese is another strong contender.

Lunch offers any number of options. The $5.25 burger, with or without cheese, isn’t terribly inspired, but at 50 cents more, the Domino—grilled turkey, mushrooms, Swiss cheese, tomatoes and lettuce on grilled sourdough—is. Much of the lunch menu is replicated as dinner offerings.

The first Lido visit is a dad-daughter night, in which dad says to daughter, “Find us a restaurant to review.” Daughter Katie’s best friend, Adrianna, without hesitation, recommends Lido, a favorite of her family. It’s a Friday night, which means that Shawna and Don’s daughter, Nichole, isn’t waitressing. Instead, it’s Sherri—a statuesque, blond-haired 50-something delight who seems so Lido it’s hard to believe she has only worked there for a year.

Sherri offers Katie some suggestions for new movies to see—The Hangover—and, generally, has a little bit of something fun to say about just about everything. She amazes us both by talking about a child of hers who is 34 years old. She advocates the meat loaf, which we politely decline, since no one has ever remotely rivaled Chez Lucas’ magic meat loaf. Katie powers down the $14.95 fettuccine Alfredo and pronounces it excellent, although it is quite possible cardboard noodles blanketed in Alfredo sauce would yield two thumbs up.

The evening’s soup special, minestrone, also gets two thumbs up from Sherri and, guilty over the meat loaf smackdown, I bring a bowl my way. Shawna says everything at Lido is homemade and that she works to teach Lido’s staff to “cook with your heart; everything will come out beautiful.” That is the case with the minestrone, except for an overabundance of carrot coins. Sherri remarks on the number that remain in the otherwise empty soup bowl.

“Didn’t like the carrots?”

“No. There were just a lot of them.”

“OK. No, wait. They’re good for your eyes. You need to eat more.”

“How many more?”

“All of them.”

Hard to argue with a force of nature and hard to imagine another restaurant where such an exchange might take place. Sherri offers no comment when she returns to collect the now completely denuded soup bowl. With respect to Shawna, a minor peeve is that salad dressing comes in a little plastic-lidded container. Whether the choice is 500 Island dressing—why isn’t that the name of the low–cal version?—or fricassee moose-turd vinaigrette, please pour it on the salad and toss vigorously before it goes tableside.

My two cents—and worth every penny: Come up with a new slogan and make sure that the Lido Bar & Grill, which also features live music on weekends, is no longer Carmichael’s best kept secret.