Tony was all excited about the cars out front and a big table set up in the middle of the dining room. Apparently some politician from Lebanon was there with his colleagues and their dozen-plus body guards. When they eventually left, they had a nine car motorcade—all big black limousines, SUVs, Explorers, etc., and I thought it odd that they did not have diplomatic license plates. I guess I've lived in D.C. too long to notice or be impressed with politicians and motorcades. What I did notice, however, is how the dining room was buzzing with staff as long as that party was there, but once they left, service dwindled to a trickle.
It was so late, I really wasn't too hungry and just wanted something light. Tony ordered a Bombay Sapphire martini, so I got a glass of their cheapest wine, which just happened to be a prosecco. We ended up with the butternut-squash soup, which was their zuppa del giorno. Large shavings of parmigiano reggiano floated in the middle of the soup plates. Now, many vegetable soups start off with the vegetable being cooked in chicken broth. This soup, however, had an overpowering flavor of chicken stock and chicken fat which I thought obscured the flavor of the squash. It could have used a splash of cream, too. The cheese, while a fun idea, was so thick that it was difficult to "cut" it with the soup spoon. We both also agreed that the soup temperature was rather tepid.
I'd originally planned to have a big salad for dinner, but I was excited to order instead the carpaccio di manzo con ruchetta e scaglie di parmigiano reggiano. Carpaccio, of course, is paper-thin slices of raw beef tenderloin. Tony had never had carpaccio before. It was covered with a big mound of arugula dressed in a lemon vinaigrette and topped with cheese shavings. I thought it was pretty good, though I would have liked it to have had a little more beef on the plate. They get their beef much thinner than I've ever been able to cut my carpaccio.
Along with the meal, we had a basket of excellent country-style hard rolls with a bright green olive oil for dipping. I was kind of amused when the assistant who brought our bread and wielded the peppermill wished us "bon appetit" in French, instead of the Italian "buon appetito."
It's a good thing we weren't terribly hungry. I thumbed through the menu and while it sounded delicious, one would have to bring one's banker along for the financing. Salads and antipasti were all in the teens, pasta first courses were in the twenties, and second courses (fish, meats, etc.) were in the thirties and forties. Vegetables were à la carte and the desserts were mostly $10-12. We also spotted a bottle of wine in the already-very-pricy wine list which was quoted at $8,000 (and yes, I proofread this entry).
I think perhaps Cafe Milano did not make the best impression on me last night. When prices are this high, I expect immaculate service. As I mentioned, once the Lebanese special guests left, the service became practically non-existent. While the assistants were friendly, I didn't feel much warmth or interest from the waiter, and this is an unusual complaint from me, since I'm usually the one who complains that waiters are too chatty or over-familiar. Some of the attention to detail one would expect from this level of restaurant was missing. No one poured our olive oil for our bread, for example, and there was no peppermill to spice up the oil. We were offerred pepper for our soup, but not for the carpaccio, which probably could have used some. No one asked if we wanted cocktail or wine refills. Our waiter brought our check after we'd finished the carpaccio course, without asking us if we wanted dessert or coffee.
And yet, this is a restaurant which is fully-booked days in advance for weekend seatings. I just don't know. Perhaps when (and if) I try their main courses, I'll be more impressed with the kitchen, but I just didn't think the food we had last night warranted the prices, especially with the lack of top quality service.
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