 before you start to think about the food and wine.
Entering an eatery, having booked, we expect to be greeted, coats taken, and escorted to the bar if the table's not ready. Posh European restaurants are designed to make this pathway possible.
New York's 'hottest reservation', Mario Batali's Babbo, feels like it's been designed with the opposite intention. Last week I was one of a party which, arriving on time, was made to stand waiting a quarter of an hour in the only available space, the 16-or-so square feet between the service area and the tables, so that we obstructed the charming, but harassed waiters trying to do their jobs.
Once seated, the tables were so close together that you were forced to honour that unique Manhattan convention, where everyone pretends he can't hear the bomb-in- |
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The noise level is beyond unpleasant, especially when Batali’s heavy metal bands give their all |
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the-subway plot being hatched at the next table. Except here you cannot hear anything.
The noise level (speakers seem to be set in the ceiling between every other table at Babbo) is beyond unpleasant, especially when Batali's beloved heavy metal bands give their supererogatory all. And the lighting is just below the threshold at which the type of the menu is visible.
And the food? Serious. The offal is splendid: full marks for testa, brawn, and for lamb's tongues topped with a poached egg; fewer for the wee bollito misto, with its (all too typical) oversweet cranberry mostarda.
And the price? Certainly not $100 a head, more like $150 including good wine and a tip. At lunchtime at least, that will buy you the best meal in London
- where you can enjoy it without having your other senses assaulted.
Reservations: Babbo 212 777 0303, Gordon Ramsay 212 468 8888 
FIRST POSTED FEBRUARY 6, 2007 |
