Da Vinci Ristorante

The notion that my guest might soon be pitching a purple-faced fit of feverish shakes in Da Vinci's dining room just didn't seem to register. And Parmisciano was just as clueless as he emerged to explain how he had washed the chop under water before reheating it on the grill: "Of course, if you prefer something else..."

But it was too late to salvage these entrees. The almond- and ham-stuffed chicken Mona Lisa had been overcooked. The sauteed rockfish was topped with stringy, olive-colored spears that had once been asparagus. My grilled sausage with white beans was satisfying in a basic way. But Parmisciano's signature meatballs, "Polpette Leonardo," were a particular letdown, the ground chicken, veal and mortadella stuffing dry beneath an oddly breaded and pan-fried crust.

I took a tiny nibble of that veal chop, and sadly, it was a perfectly tender, thick slice of meat (not to mention squeaky clean!) But my guest, understandably cautious, wasn't going near it.

Our waitress, meanwhile, conveniently "forgot" to remove it from our bill until she saw us shaking our heads at the $32 line item. It was removed without a fuss. And the shots of cioccolatello were promptly set before us. But there wasn't much to toast at the end of this meal.