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Went here for the other wife's birthday. She had always wanted to go and is buddies with a former chef. This is on concert with her habit of dragging me to Michelin star rated restaurants, and once again, I thought we were in for a treat. To be honest it fell a little flat, as though they were resting on their laurels. The place is tiny, and has some sort of off-the-books residential dining area as both guests and staff come marching down the huge brownstone stairs. Not really my business, but interesting due to its total illegality.
We sat outside and since we had no rezzie (they're impossible to get) we watched the little railroad restaurant fill up. A few interesting points: 1) I was the first to arrive, and they tray passed chilled Lambrusco before they opened which I thought was a very nice touch. 2) The waiter was very intent on pronouncing every Italian word perfectly, which made her sound like a news caster in SoCal, effortlessly switching from dumb American accent to perfect Italian accent--it was unnecessary and kind of lame. 3) There was a woman who kept changing into skin-tight yoga pants and putting her fanny on parade coming out of said brownstone. She kept walking her dog, and though it has nothing to do with the restaurant, I feel it was definitely noteworthy. I mean, she really flashed her beaver.
The food? Honestly, hit or miss. You better like cheese and ham, or you're not going to try half the menu. The portions were small except for the big ass breaded, pounded, prosciutto Milanese thing that we devoured. Additionally, after we paid we decided to have another drink and Miss Italian language couldn't be found for like ten minutes. Finish the cover bitch! Not sure how this garnered a Michelin star, but what the fuck do I know?
