Angelina's old-world intimacy is much of its appeal, so when a waitress's unintentional nudge to our wobbly table sent my cocktail directly into my lap, it was par for the course. Rickety tables, she explained, are part of the little-Italian-village feel. She was joking, I think, but in any case within minutes I was facing a fresh drink, a heap of napkins sopping up the previous one in my lap, and really none the worse for wear. The rustic motif is reflected in the menu, which is all comfort and elegant simplicity—a caprese salad, for example, or figs and prosciutto. An appetizer of sauteed calamari with tomato sauce was served in a heaping portion that could have fed a small European circus. The pesto-and-wild-mushroom lasagna was dispatched to my plate directly from heaven; shrimp al diavolo were plump and tasty, though the braised fennel and radicchio that accompanied it was better in theory than in practice—a fork couldnt even penetrate the rock-solid little bulbs. Rounding off the meal was a scrumptious homemade tiramisu (is it ever bad?) and piping hot espresso. Weekend brunch features a weekly frittata, banana French toast, eggs Benedict, and a croque monsieur plus unlimited champagne or mimosas for $23 (caveat emptor: it's cash only).
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