Il Fiasco

PHOTO: MARZENA ABRAHAMIK

The minute Nanette saw us walk through the doors, she skipped over and grabbed me around the waist. “Where have you been?” she asked, squeezing me into a tight hug. Then she pulled away, put one hand to her forehead and closed her eyes as if in meditation. “Okay,” she said, pointing to my companion. “You had the octopus.” Then she pointed to me. “You had the ravioli, and ‘Grandma Petrillo’s Chocolate Cake.’ ”

She had it exactly right, which was especially impressive because she was recalling a meal she had served us more than two weeks ago—the first and only time we had met.

During that dinner I had been thoroughly impressed with Nanette. In fact, I whispered to the table that she was one of the best servers I had ever had, and certainly better than the service I received when I checked out Il Fiasco after it first opened. Those experiences, which I wrote about in this space last August, resulted in a lackluster three-star review, where I complained about the long wait for a reserved table, and noted that “there’s a line between simple and boring, and chef Phillip Reed often crosses it.”

But Nanette was only one part of a dining experience that has considerably improved since then. The rest of the credit goes to the man that has replaced Reed: chef Eric Aubriot, who recently had a short run at Alhambra Palace. He hasn’t overhauled the menu by any means, but his presence can be felt in every section of it. His rich, twice-baked Gorgonzola soufflé was in a different class from other appetizers offered (many of which Aubriot kept from the previous menu): The cheese was balanced by red wine–poached pears, and the dish had a bigger flavor—and was more sophisticated—than its peers. His crisp corn cakes, topped with a mushroom sauce that had a robust earthiness (a flavor that was missing when I tried the mushroom pizza back in August), similarly impressed. And though it was odd to see french fries listed under appetizers, they showed off Aubriot’s years of experience; he only lightly seasoned them with truffle oil, so you won’t smell like a forest all night but you will remember why truffle oil became big in the first place.

By adding a toothsome wine-braised octopus to the menu, Aubriot has raised the bar a little bit. But regulars need not worry: The jalapeño gnocchi is still there (it remains an odd, but not entirely unpleasant, dish), and the pizzas still make up a big chunk of the menu (they’re not bad, but they’re also nothing special). The short ribs with blue-cheese risotto also made the cut (they’re quite good, and a much better choice than the rubbery flat-iron steak). But I’d go with the dishes Aubriot has added, like the sea bass, which comes with addictive bacon-braised cabbage. Or, better yet, try the four-course menu offered on Fridays. With this meal you are entirely in the hands of chef Aubriot, which is exactly where you want to be. When I tried it, the porcini risotto’s kernals were perfectly al dente, the sautéed whitefish was topped with a delicious (if not terribly inventive) combination of grapefruit, capers and fennel, and the dessert, a lemon curd with meringue, was delectable. It was exactly what Il Fiasco aimed to be before Aubriot got there—simple, affordable, dependable. In other words, it was many things Il Fiasco was not.