The decor is romantic excess, the oversize chairs are well upholstered, and the carpets are extra-plush. Once you get seated, you know you're going to be here awhile. There's no menu. There's no waiter, either. There's just Aldo Elsharif. The talkative chef comes to your table in his sauce-stained whites and spouts poetry about his fish of the day, his fabulous veal and rare exotica, including ostrich and zebra. Aldo will convince you that everything you know about Italian wine is wrong and that you simply have to try his special of the day. The prices aren't low, and without a menu, it's easy to get surprised by the bill. But the food is wonderful and the little dining room is one of the most intimate in the city. By the time you leave, several hours will have gone by, and Aldo will seem like an old friend.
*indicates required fields.
Please enable browser cookies before filling out this form.
All reader comments are subject to our Terms of Use.
By clicking Add Comment, you acknowledge that you have reviewed and agree to these Terms.
Comments may take a few minutes to process and appear on the site.
Please do not click the "Add Comment" button again while your comment is being added.
