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A whole slew of tuxedoed servers descend upon the table like some gastronomic SWAT team, leaving behind spicy slices of zucchini, mounds of diced ripe tomatoes laced with olive oil and basil, a basket of Italian bread and focaccia crisps, and flutes of sparkling pink champagne. At this point you might be tempted to say, "Waiter, could we have the check?" but then you'd miss out on the rest of the show. Owner Tito Dallavalle is an old-school restaurateur with a Ziegfield-like obsession for making his patrons' night out a spectacular one: Portions are outlandishly sized, wine is generously poured, and customers are doted upon in Old World fashion. Among the winners are a trio of jumbo, breaded, garlic-laden shrimp scampi, butterflied and buoyed by a luscious lobster sauce; homemade pastas such as porcini-permeated ravioli with truffle-flecked champagne sauce; whole salt-crusted branzino, the mild flakes of fish accented with a splash of olive oil and squeeze of lemon -- just like they do it in Venice. Prices are fair, especially in light of all the freebies: Veal variations are $21.75, shrimp preparations $28.75, chicken dishes $19.75, and pasta for $18.75. Pampered diners are each given a glass of homemade vin santo dessert wine at meal's end, and a warm farewell at the door.
A big nugget of Parmigiano-Reggiano, spicy slices of fried zucchini, bruschetta, Italian bread, focaccia crisps. Flutes of Prosecco. The menu (voluminous, plus about 30 verbally recited specials). A bowl of pasta e fagioli and a trio of breaded, garlicky shrimp, each the size of a lobster. Endive salad — a palate-cleanser of sorts. A magnum of Barolo. Pillows of porcini ravioli in a champagne-black truffle cream sauce. Whole salt-crusted branzino deboned tableside and accented with olive oil and lemon. With potatoes, succulently roasted in garlic and sage, on the side. No. Make that veal saltimbocca with fettuccine Alfredo alongside. Hell, make it a double-cut veal chop, seared on the grill. With the roast potatoes. An order of wild salmon, too, to get something of a surf-and-turf going. Tiramisu for dessert. And a trifle of flourless chocolate cake. With sabayon sauce. Cappuccino, of course. A glass of complimentary homemade vin santo dessert wine. The check (pastas $16 to $34, entrées $20 to $45). An after-dinner mint? Why not?
A big nugget of Parmigiano-Reggiano, spicy slices of fried zucchini, bruschetta, Italian bread, focaccia crisps. Flutes of Prosecco. The menu (voluminous, plus about 30 verbally recited specials). A bowl of pasta e fagioli and a trio of breaded, garlicky shrimp, each the size of a lobster. Endive salad -- a palate-cleanser of sorts. A magnum of Barolo. Pillows of porcini ravioli in a champagne-black truffle cream sauce. Whole salt-crusted branzino deboned tableside and accented with... More »
Our arses had hardly alighted upon the seat cushions when a tuxedoed gentleman came by the table with an enormous quarter-wheel of Parmesan cheese and plunked a carved nugget of it on each of our side plates — pausing long enough only to tersely... More »
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