Cafe Milano's Suburban Sister
Sette Bello has less buzz but better food

By Tom Sietsema
The Washington Post Magazine
Sunday, March 12, 2006

Some of the most engaging theater in Washington takes place not on a stage but in the dining room at Cafe Milano, the long-running Italian show starring a host of politicos, socialites, artists and authors, and directed by restaurateur Franco Nuschese. The cooking at his Georgetown retreat can be good or indifferent, sometimes at the same meal, but chow is rather beside the point. For a lot of people, the eye candy there -- say, a Bill, Hillary or Placido sighting -- makes a sufficient brunch, lunch or dinner.

Food is more the focus at Nuschese's new production in Clarendon, the recently launched Sette Bello, which draws a flock of young professionals rather than boldface names, and translates from Italian to English as "Beautiful Seven." Seven is a lucky card number, and beautiful, or at least fetching, aptly describes the debonair host's third restaurant (he also owns Sette Osteria, the pizza and pasta purveyor in Dupont Circle).

I always imagine Nuschese keeps a list of things he wants to see in his spaces, because all three have a lot in common. Pretty hostesses to scratch off names in the reservation book? Check. Managers who look as if they stepped out of the pages of GQ to watch over the action? Uh-huh. Corporate chef Domenico Cornacchia penned the script for Sette Bello, which reads like a cross between the menus handed out at Cafe Milano and Sette Osteria but also nods to current fashions with, among other props, small plates assembled at an antipasto bar. Picture warm risotto fritters with centers of mozzarella and peas, and cool salmon carpaccio dressed up with slivers of purple olives. Both make favorable first impressions.

Where to park yourself in the open and airy venue? It depends on your mood and your number. Alone, I gravitate to the long bar, behind which hangs a plasma TV to keep me company, or that antipasto counter, with its engaging show of cooks, cheese and meat. Two or more of us might head to the tall tables ringed by chic red stools up front -- or to the dining room beyond, decorated with panels wrought from the bottoms of colorful glass bottles, and offering semicircular, Fiat-size booths that embrace their occupants in a hug of leather. Come spring, a patio will allow alfresco dining.

An easy way to order successfully is to focus on anything beginning with the letter "p" -- as in pasta, pizza and pesce (fish). Most of the noodle dishes are simple and satisfying. Cavatelli tossed with broccoli rabe, crumbled sausage and pecorino cheese is a particular favorite of mine, but running a close second is spaghetti heaped with mussels and clams; the pasta retains some bite and gets a nice kick from some chili flakes. The kitchen needs to work on its gnocchi, however, which have the texture of marshmallows, a problem exacerbated by a faint pink tomato sauce.

Sette Bello's pizza is well-made, which means the crust, puffy and chewy, is as pleasing as what adorns it. The toppings tend to be straightforward and Italian. One hit among the lot finds a forest of mushrooms, artichokes and porchetta ham atop a hubcap of baked dough that has just enough tomato and cheese to flavor the bread but not so much to detract from the headliners. (Not all starches are created equal: The bruschetta turns out to be ordinary grilled bread with toppings that sound more exciting on paper than they taste off the plate.)

"Can I get it without the head attached?" I look up from my plate one night to catch a woman near my table ask if it's possible to have three-quarters of the "grilled whole" dorade listed on the menu. It's none of my business, but I'm tempted to tell her that fish cooked whole and on the bone is a good thing -- more flavorful. And here, the sea-sweet flavor of the meaty Mediterranean fish is enhanced with slices of lemon and olives slipped inside, and accessorized with glistening, grill-marked slices of bell pepper and zucchini. Swordfish is the dorade's equal, set off with a subtle sauce of green peppercorns and a bed of chopped eggplant, at once tangy and sweet. A fillet of halibut sports a crisp surface but is less for the tasteless artichokes that serve as an escort. Raw fish is as much of a catch as cooked. Indeed, one of the most refreshing dishes at Sette Bello partners dewy cubes of tuna with chopped apple, fennel and what tastes like orange zest. In a sea of tuna tartares, this version, from the antipasto bar menu, stands out.

Back on land, a diner can find a bland, less-than-tender braised lamb shank; and a pork cutlet pounded to the size and thinness of a plate, then breaded and sauteed. The latter entree comes with a salad of mustardy greens and a cup of chopped tomato. "Take a bite of one and then the other," a server gave me directions for assembly, pointing first to the vegetables and then to the pork. There's also the option of composing an Italian picnic -- sliced cured meats running from coppa to soppressata -- from the antipasto bar.

The best dessert at Sette Bello is the most traditional: tiramisu. Moist and fluffy, with just the right ratio of cake, chocolate and sweetened mascarpone, the confection lives up to its English translation: "Pick me up." It's a phrase that sums up the restaurant pretty well, too.