Finally got round to dropping in at Boccaccio (9th St between 4th & 5th Aves) for dinner Saturday.
Nicely decorated place, cozy. The rooftop dining area is a lovely place to eat on a clear warm night, as evidenced by the fact that it was full while downstairs was empty.
The waiter was attentive, and rattled off a rather long list of interesting-sounding specials quite well. Bread was no better than adequate, but the chive butter was a nice complement to it. We ordered a 1/2 litre carafe of house shiraz, which was nothing fancy.
We started with a salad of palm hearts, radicchio & avocado, which was well done except that the palms weren't adequately trimmed, which meant a couple of mouthsfull of fiber. Phtooey! We also tried the roasted oysters, which were very small, but the seasoned butter sauce in which they were cooked was extremely good.
The regular menu contained several Argentinian beef dishes, advertised as aged beef cooked over charcoal. Enticing as these sounded, we both opted for pasta: The 4-cheese-and-pesto-stuffed succhini were too stodgy for my liking; the farfalle with small chunks of salmon in cream sauce was ok but nothing to write home about.
Not a bad outing, but not overexciting either. If I return I'll go for the barbie.
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