Okay, so maybe I've never actually been to Italy, but I did spend my pubescent years in Staten Island where all my friends were Italian American, so whatever, this place is frickin fantastic. It's got bustle and hustle with the simulated piazza and the perfectly painted sky above, and I could wave over to the Wolfgang Puck diners nearby and even had a great view of some weird town square opera that was going on, I guess, because it's Vegas.
The waiter was, to put it mildly, belissimo--just an astonishingly friendly, accommodating, grandfatherly fellow who gently prevented the ordering of too much food and cooed in what I think was a genuine Italian accent. Ordered a bottle of the Bastianich 2004 "Joe's Rosso" because for $35, who can refuse? Plus, I'd heard about the label, and it turned out that old Joe did not disappoint.
Naturally I began to stuff my face with the bread, which came with bread sticks, all wrapped in wax paper. But before I could brush the breadcrumbs off my cheeks, out came the Arancine Risotto Balls. My goodness, those were delicious balls. I've never had such tasty balls, so chewy and savory on the inside and crispy toasty on the outside, just yummy yummy balls. That's right, I said balls. My Linguine con Le Cozze, featuring mussels, saffron, and marjoram, was cooked al dente fabulous, and the grilled hanger steak delivered a surprisingly bold flavor.