The ambiance lost a bit in the trip uptown from the Village, but service was superb at Il Mulino’s new Upper East Side branch.
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Essay question for the dining millions: How can a new, supposedly celebrity-magnet restaurant seem bridge-and-tunnel when the bridges and tunnels are closed?
On a night when Manhattan was stirring after the storm and downtown scene-makers were swarming Upper East Side eateries, the jolly crowd at new Il Mulino Uptown — big-bellied guys, tattooed-back females — hardly resembled the wall-to-wall boldfaces promised by the hype.
Sure, there was Donny Deutsch, getting up to greet Ron Perelman at another table. And at least a few of the numerous large-lipped blond “beauties” had to be somebody.
But more typical were boldface-free tables-full of big-haired males singing “Happy Birthday” in the ear-splittingly loud room. “Sounds like Hooters,” a friend snarked.
It sounds like bait-and-switch, too. After I first reported the Greenwich Village institution’s plan to branch out uptown last March, the owners claimed it would be a steak-oriented joint called Bistecca and not, as I wrote, a replica of the original.
In fact, the name’s the same and so’s (mostly) the menu. Fine by me: Dishes embrace the garlicky, hearty Abruzzo- and Italian-American style I love at the West Third Street flagship of what’s now a nationwide chain.
But something’s been lost in translation from downtown’s candle-lit, floral-wallpapered, slightly spooky setting to a bright, white-walled space with crown moldings to remind patrons of their prewar co-ops. Is it me, or does the garlic in the air clash with Estée Lauder on uptown skin?
Prices approaching Nello-land suggest Park Avenue, as well. Did we really spend $50 for red snapper with a few clams and mussels?
“We have 24 specials, I don’t want to take your time reciting them,” the lunch waiter told the next table. Thanks! They’re on a printed list, but some waiters drone on until your ears glaze over. Your eyes might glaze over, too, with prices even higher than the ones on the regular menu, where main courses average $40.
To eat almost affordably, gobble as much as possible of the abbondanza of gratis antipasti — Parmigiano cheese, salumi, mussels, fried artichokes and tomato bruschetta.
Next, choose half-orders of pasta as your main course. Sparks-igniting capellini arrabiata, hearty fettuccine with lamb ragu and “classic” white clam sauce linguine will fill you and thrill you.
The kitchen’s real forte is seafood. Poached and marinated octopus — peppery, vividly herbed and olive-tinted — justified its $22 tab.
The waiter raved about fresh langoustines from Adriatic waters, and with reason: Chopped into short segments, they were sweet, mineral-rich and seductively tender. A half-portion was $27.50.
I almost forgave paying $44 for swordfish, so juicy and generous was the cut, in vivid light tomato sauce complexioned with capers and olives.
Sauce shamelessly red is a justified house pride wherever it pops up. But meat’s another story. Executive chef Michele Mazza spends lots of time schmoozing up guests; better he spent it spanking the cooks.
Little lemon, but a ton of butter, informed pedestrian chicken limon piccata ($29.95). Spice took the night off from messy chicken fra diavolo ($36). Richly flavored pork osso buco ($46) was disconcertingly chewy.
True risotto doesn’t lend itself to inch-high stacking, yet porcini mushroom “risotto” assumed precisely such lofty proportions; the gluey arborio was stirred barely if at all.
Desserts like tiramisu are fine. Not so sorbet, available only as the thick, Bindi brand product — not the crystalline refreshment I crave after a meal long on butter and cream.
Thanks to a friendly floor crew led by general manager Rubi Sanchez, Il Mulino Uptown would be two star-able even with its faults — except for the prices I gagged on every time. May your wallet be thick, and warned.