Gabriel Viti treats his loyal clientele like his big fat extended
Italian family, like it's his Big Night every night. In chef whites
and toque so crisp he must change them twice an evening, the gregarious
"Gabe" hugs or shakes hands with everybody who enters his
urbane dining room. And, boy, does he know how to feed them. Viti's
masterful technique covers both French and Italian idioms, beginning
with irresistably silky chicken liver mousse or roasted calamari filled
with chanterelles and spinach in Pernod cream. His osso buco with
saffron risotto is as good as it gets; the same goes for roasted prosciutto-wrapped
capon in sage sauce. I don't have a drop of Italian or French blood
in me, but as I finished a charming 1998 Monsanto Chianti Classico
Reserva with my white chocolate mousse with hazelnuts and cherry sauce,
I put myself up for adoption.
- Dennis Ray Wheaton
