It was a little sketchy that none of the notable figures highlighted on the website were actually still a part of the organization, aside from Lane, but I didn't see any immediate negative effects, so I suppose I shouldn't be preoccupied (that said, these things should be kept up to date, especially in a digital world). The name derives from the Latin Apicius, a collection of Roman cookery, long associated with the love of food, and the lofty, airy dining room's simplicity leaves the focus on just that. There are some spectacular chandeliers, however, and a elegantly monochromatic color scheme of pale ivories that lend a classy touch. The menu is pointedly Italian; it is behooving to have at least a minimal grasp of the language for ordering purposes, or to be dining with someone who does. I fall into the former camp, and that knowledge was extremely useful to my dining companions (even if I did incorrectly describe paccheri as a filled pasta OOPS. Yeah. It's like a big rigatoni, for the
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But then back to those pastas, the noodles of which are splendid, regardless their form. Bucatini (my favorite shape) al'amatriciana were just the right amount of spicy to perk up those long, toothsome hollow tubes. Tagliatelle were more sauced more delicately with a light, creamy cheese, tossed with English peas and a ruffle of
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I was thrilled to see Brussels sprouts still on the menu despite their inarguable unseasonality, and they were good- well, correction: some of them were. Because they were cut up very irregularly, the the biggest halves were perfectly cooked but the smaller bits got overcooked to decimation and swallowed up in too much in the
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Desserts by pastry chef Suji Grant are quite attractively described, a citrusy mascarpone panna cotta with caramelized almonds piqued my interest, but the bill had already reach rather elevated proportions and none of my other tablemates seemed into it. And at twelve dollars I suppose it was a consideration. But what bothered me most was the menu title : Dolce Piatti. In Italian, the adjective goes after the noun, and there must be agreement between the two in gender and quantity, neither of which are correct in this phrase. Nitpicking this would be, had the rest of the meal been superlative. Instead, I feel like it's mini-indication of carelessness: the chef is not on-site, the Italianness isn't quite assertive enough, the service wasn't engaging, and the empty-ish room and sort of lack of energy left no motivation for a return. It just didn't feel special, and it was too expensive not to. I don't discourage giving it a shot, especially if it's convenient, but I guess the dining room sparse population was understandable. New York's bar is high, and this just doesn't quite make it.
62 West 9th street
tel212.353.8400
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