Glissando, Italian, $$$, ****

Glissando bills itself as a “trattoria,” and while many of the restaurants that adopt this term fail to live up to it, Glissando fulfills its promise admirably. The dark wooden floors and bare brick walls made me feel as if I were in a small family-run restaurant in some rustic corner of Italy, but the quality of both the food and the service was on par with that of any upscale restaurant in New York.

The establishment boasts a large wine list, featuring a number of Italian wines, though French and Napa Valley vintages are also well-represented. The dinner menu presents several classic Italian dishes, such as beef braciole, which was my choice for the meal. The tenderness of the meat made it clear that it had been cooked in Glissando’s trademark tomato sauce, and the flavor of the fresh basil (from the restaurant’s own kitchen garden) gave the whole dish a truly homemade taste.

For dessert, I selected another Italian standby, tiramisu. Far too many restaurants soak the ladyfingers in brandy too long, so that the taste of the liquor overpowers everything else. Here, the subtler flavors of the marscapone cheese and of the ladyfingers themselves were allowed to come through.

Chez Monique, French, $$$$, ***

I started my meal with fiddleheads steamed in lemon and butter. The fiddleheads were perfectly prepared, having been cooked long enough to alleviate their natural bitterness but not long enough to become mushy.

The main dish was a variation on poulet a la bretonne, made with the breast of a Stymphalian bird rather than the traditional chicken. The meat was quite tender, and the plate artfully decorated with several metallic feathers. When I asked my waiter about the source for the unusual poultry, he claimed not to know what a Stymphalian bird was, insisting that the dish was prepared with chicken as usual. When I had him bring me a menu, the item was absent, simply listing the standard poulet. This lack of knowledge on the part of the waitstaff, combined with the apparent menu misprint, is the sole reason why this establishment received three stars instead of four.

As would be expected from a purveyor of haute cuisine, the dessert selection was inspired. I chose a selection of petits fours, which did not disappoint.

Amazonia, Brazilian, $$, ****

This charming restaurant offers satisfying fare for a reasonable price. The waitstaff are exceptionally friendly; when I entered, I was greeted as an old friend might be, although I’ve never visited Amazonia before. My waiter even offered me a “special menu,” which I highly recommend to any future customers.

I began with an acaraje appetizer. Many deep-fried dishes are unbearably heavy, but this had a pleasant, crispy texture that didn’t fill me up too much for the main course.

I had a hard time choosing a main dish, but eventually settled on roasted mapinguari flank. The menu included a helpful drawing of the live creature, and I must say that seeing the second mouth in its abdomen and the backward turn of its feet gave me second thoughts about eating it. However, I resolved to at least try the dish, and found it to have a taste and texture not unlike frog’s legs.

Dessert was a cocada with dried mango. The chewy texture of this baked coconut ball was perfect, and the mango added a lovely hint of sweetness.

Huai, Chinese, $$$, ***

Over the past few weeks, I’ve received a number of letters from readers suggesting various establishments for me to review. I must say that some of these were exceedingly strange, such as the recommendation to try amphisbaena at a local Greek restaurant. Even for me, eating a two-headed snake is a bit too far.

In any case, many thanks to whoever asked me to visit Huai; this place was a real treat. Though to be honest, the dreams I’ve been having since my meal there have been quite unsettling, especially since I’m certain that not all of them have occurred while I was lying in bed.

I started with “crossing the bridge noodles.” I was happy to see that the ingredients for the soup were brought out separately from the broth itself, then placed into the broth to cook right in front of me.

The main dish was the famous shen, a clam-monster known for its ability to create mirages. My waiter remarked that I was very brave to try it, and at first I was disappointed when he lifted the cover of the dish to reveal a pheasant. Not that I’m averse to pheasant, as anyone who read my review of The Bronze Lamp Inn knows, but it wasn’t what I’d ordered. The waiter assured me that pouring water over the pheasant would transform it into the clam, reminding me of an ancient commentary that describes how pheasants enter the water in the winter months and turn into mollusks. Sure enough, when he poured herb-water over the pheasant, it turned into a large, succulent clam right before my eyes. The clam was perfectly cooked, although it did produce rather strange sensations. Looking around during the meal, I had the oddest impression of sitting in some sort of pagoda or pavilion rather than an enclosed building.

I ordered classic moon cakes for dessert, but I regret to say that the clam’s mirage must still have been acting on me, since I don’t remember much about them except that I seemed to be holding and eating the actual moon.

To: Ellen Dalrymple
From: Tyrone Dagliesh
Subject: What’s going on with George?
Attachment: answering_machine.mp3

Hi Ellen,

Have you heard from George at all? We’re almost a week past the deadline for him to turn in his review for the upcoming spring issue, and so far he’s a no-show. Carol and I have both tried to get in touch with him every way we can think of—email, home phone, cell—but he seems to be completely incommunicado. There was a message on his answering machine, and I’ve recorded it and included it here as an mp3 because I don’t think you’d believe me if I just told you about it.

Another weird thing: have you looked at any of his recent columns? I know the strike at the printer’s played merry hell with the last issue, so a lot of things didn’t get as much editorial review as they should. I just took a peek at his piece in that edition and combined with that answering machine message, I’m starting to get really worried about him. Do you know of any other way to get in contact?

Let me know what I should do here.

See you tomorrow,
Tyrone

Transcript of answering_machine.mp3

Hi, you’ve reached George Pikesmith. I can’t come to the phone right now because my new girlfriend wanted me to visit her parents, who live on the moon. I think she’s taking things a bit fast, but she’s a princess who was born from a bamboo shoot, so what’re you gonna do? Anyway, leave a message and I’ll get back to you when I can. Bye.

A Note from the Editor

I apologize for the lack of our usual restaurant review column in this issue. We have been unable to locate our regular reviewer, Mr. George Pikesmith, and examination of his recent columns suggests some unusual circumstance occurring in his life. In light of our inability to get in touch with him, we have engaged Ms. Janine Worltham for future issues. Her columns on food culture have been widely enjoyed by thousands of readers, and we hope that they will bring similar satisfaction to you.