Shia Labeouf live-tweeted his acid trip in 2012 and wrote, "yr gonna see me in yr dream cause i dont know where to live anymore." Living inside Ganzi would be a dream. It feels like one. Every time I rubber neck the close-enough to Chuck Close-styled Sophia Loren painting, the perfect leather Danish chairs, the marble table-tops, the Vespa hanging on the wall, their logo, their font choice on their menu, their presentation of a Negroni in a tiny former Chinotto soda bottle with a crystal rocks glass, the bolognese or the ragout, the smiles of the service, the over-sized brick patio under the dappled neon of the Keg Mansion sign, the turret of the home, the fact that it is a giant home converted into this side bar, and drawing room-turned-Italian eatery, I feel like they managed to check everything off the list of what I want. And every time I rubber neck myself in their downstairs bathroom mirror to ask: move closer to this establishment. Until then, it's cross town cabs for me because a night of Sophia Loren art over my shoulder in front of my wife's lovely smile and between our elbows on marble tables is Italian (new) comfort food is precisely what I dream to have in my life, like more Shia.