Accademia Di Vino

1081 Third Ave., near 64th St. (212) 888-6333
Open seven days a week, noon-midnight.
CUISINE Italian
VIBE Sprawling wine cellar
OCCASION Neighborhood bites, casual family affair
DON’T MISS DISH King salmon crudo, truffle pate pizza
PRICE Appetizers, $4-$15; Entrees, $14-$45.
RESERVATIONS Recommended

Apparently, New York
can never have too many Italian eateries. At least, that’s what the
latest battery of restaurateurs is banking on this season. Enotecas,
vinotecas, trattorias – they are the latest incarnations of Italian
fare. Accademia di Vino aspires to be all three.

In the landscape of the upper East Side, partner Anthony Mazzola
(‘Cesca) tempts fate in a space that has housed ­several short-lived
pursuits – Mainland, Wild Tuna and Ollie’s – to name a few. Mazzola has
recruited chef Kevin Garcia, who also helms ‘Cesca’s kitchen, to undertake an ambitious menu.

Its street-level wine bar – appointed with wood paneling, communal
tables and Italian bar snacks – glimpses at downtown cool. It offers
uptown creatures of habit a taste of what’s currently a
consumer-approved recipe for success.

Below ground is a succession of brick arch-rimmed dining enclaves.
Earth-toned walls are adorned with posters that nod to wine, and
blackboards are chalked with oenophile tidbits. It is a sprawling space
where an even more sprawling menu awaits you at the table.

“In addition to our menu, we also have some specials,” our server
begins. “There’s more?” my companion sputters, his eyes bulging as he
scans the phone book-sized selection. “I’ve been working since 8
o’clock this morning. You order,” surrendering his menu over to me.

There are 96 items on the menu – excluding dessert. Where to begin?
Garcia has concocted a dizzying selection: crudo, panini, carpaccio,
tartare, pizza, pasta, antipasti. Diners stumped by dishes labeled
fettina (seared) and manzo (beef) have to refer to the menu’s glossary
for a translation.

But the glaring issue at hand: How can one chef skillfully command
this much domain? Even Garcia, who has proven his mastery of a
perfectly grilled pizza at Al Forno and served admirably as chef de cuisine at Del Posto, can’t possibly cover the scope of this menu.

The grilled pizzas turn up crispy disks, coated with enticingly thin
layers of tangy cheese. This was especially true of a truffle
pate-spackled variation with creamy hints of robiola and pecorino.

But the true acid test of any respectable Italian – spaghetti
pomodoro with basil – emerged utterly mundane. What should’ve been
simple, tangy and pleasing was none of the above. Neither homemade nor
properly al dente, floppy noodles got a shallow wash of insipid tomato
sauce. Even worse was the bucatini alla carbonara: fatty chunks of
guanciale pasted into an excessively peppered sauce.

The grill stole the juices from a pork chop, a gluey lemon aioli got
its hands on crunchy baccala fritters, and scallops fettina showed up
oddly wet on two occasions.

The best hand Accademia di Vino’s holding is the crudo. A lush wedge
of wild king salmon is dressed in a salsa verde with feisty anchovy
undertones and a fresh grate of horseradish accompaniment. I did end on
a lovely panna cotta note: feathery custard fragranced with rosemary
and topped with a cloud of whipped cream.

“Please visit ‘Cesca our sister restaurant across the park,” reads a sign on the way to the door. That’s an idea.

Neither homemade nor
properly al dente, floppy noodles got a shallow wash of insipid tomato
sauce. Even worse was the bucatini alla carbonara: fatty chunks of
guanciale pasted into an excessively peppered sauce.

The grill stole the juices from a pork chop, a gluey lemon aioli got
its hands on crunchy baccala fritters, and scallops fettina showed up
oddly wet on two occasions.

The best hand Accademia di Vino’s holding is the crudo. A lush wedge
of wild king salmon is dressed in a salsa verde with feisty anchovy
undertones and a fresh grate of horseradish accompaniment. I did end on
a lovely panna cotta note: feathery custard fragranced with rosemary
and topped with a cloud of whipped cream.

"Please visit ‘Cesca our sister restaurant across the park," reads a sign on the way to the door. That’s an idea.

Until we eat again,
Restaurant Girl
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