My Italian is limited, so I had to look this one up. Mulino a vento is a windmill, so I guess this is kind of wine mill. Certainly this is a wine restaurant where the wine element of the meal is front and center, and rightly so because the wine is very good.
The food isn't chopped liver either--literally or metaphorically--the menu, if not always the cooking, being the work of Michelin-starred chef David Scabin, of Combal.Zero outside Turin.
I used to live just down the street from Ponty Bistro, except it wasn't Ponty Bistro then. But what was it? I've wracked my brains (and wrestled with Google), but I can't tell you. There were certainly one or two French and/or Italian joints on that strip, a step or two down from veteran sportsbar Barfly, back in the '90s.
But never mind my memory. Since 2008, this has been Ponty Bistro (French-African-Mediterranean, the website says, and it was an inadvertent trip down memory lane to be invited to dine there recently.
[Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid: April 20, 2015]
I've said before that Bouley became a regular haunt for a number of us, ten years ago. Many inventive and interesting dinners there, not least because there were people in the kitchen who were also in online forums, and one kind of got to know them, and...well, you know. The menu was often departed from.
Apart from another happy visit to that place, one of two casual meals in mid-April, 2005.
We're past the point--or should be--of being amazed when an interesting or moderately ambitious restaurant opens in Bed-Stuy, the still gritty lop-sided pentagon of an inner city neighborhood, crushed along its north-eastern border by Broadway, supported at its base by Atlantic Avenue, framed--but not well-served-- by the A,C and J,M subway lines.
The reputation of Peaches' hot chicken extends beyond the borough, there's the pubby Black Swan, and there's even a wacky place called Do-or-Dine (frog's legs with Dr Pepper glaze). But lobster thermidor?