Take those words seriously. You’ve ordered small plates before. These are Lilliputian: a few delicate slices of boar prosciutto, tiny toasts topped with whisper-thin lardo, a sliver or two of duck sausage with foie gras mousse. This allows you to experience many flavors without spoiling your appetite, but the bill adds up quickly. (The restaurant recommends two per person.)
You might not balk if your order includes grilled squid, spectacularly tentacled, served in a little skillet with a bit of nicely bitter radicchio. A relatively generous portion of tuna crudo is accented by roasted peppers, olives, and plump capers, pungent and briny. Bruschetta comes topped with peppers, tomatoes, and lovely white anchovies poached in olive oil. And that duck sausage with foie gras mousse is a decadent little treat.
But dry mozzarella di bufala disappoints, and the accompanying celery leaves and black truffle coulis can’t save it. Charcuterie is presented with a minimalism and austerity usually reserved for sashimi. It looks beautiful, but one still wishes for more.
A Tavola’s pasta dishes are well conceived. If only they were consistently well executed. That enticing cocoa pasta is undercooked, and some bites of braised rabbit are dry and too salty. Meanwhile, a special one night of bucatini with lobster needs more salt, and the noodles have a grainy texture. But squid ink bigoli is an arresting presentation, the midnight black pasta tossed with tender cuttlefish, tomatoes, capers, and olives. Substantial potato gnocchi work well paired with the bright, light flavors of orange and shrimp. And rigatoni Bolognese is a deep, rich version no one wants to share. Pasta dishes are available in half-portions, always a welcome option. (Gluten-free pasta is available upon request.)
