Style Over Substance

At Il Mulino, over-the-top service can't compensate for underwhelming food

* Il Mulino

1110 Vermont Ave NW

202-293-1001

www.ilmulino.com

Open: lunch Monday through Friday 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m., dinner Sunday through Thursday 5 to 10:30 p.m., Friday and Saturday 5 to 11:30 p.m. All major credit cards. No smoking. Metro: Farragut North, McPherson Square. Valet parking at dinner. Dinner prices: appetizers $14 to $24, entrees $27 to $55. Full dinner with wine, tax and tip about $100 per person.

Pampering I like. Smothering, not so much.

To experience the difference between the two forms of service, all you have to do is book a table at Il Mulino in Washington, a new branch of a nearly 30-year-old Italian restaurant in New York that has spread its special brand of hospitality to eight other cities, including Chicago, Las Vegas, Orlando and even Tokyo.

The unsuspecting guest won't know what to make of all the food that flows his way, seconds after being seated. One moment, a tuxedoed server holding a craggy block of Parmesan is at your side, carving off a chunk of cheese and depositing it on a bread plate. A basket of warm garlic toast lands on the center of the table. Someone bearing tomato-piled bruschetta and chilled mussels shows up to further crowd the linen-covered landscape -- which is already dressed with coins of fried zucchini and spicy sausage.

"We're done. I'm full. Let's go," a friend jokes after she eats more than she intends to of the freebies that are a hallmark of Il Mulino (all of them). The arrival of actual menus is accompanied by a verbal recitation of -- is it 15? 30? -- dishes that the waiter wants you to know about. While I admire his memory skills, the presentation only challenges mine. Plus, I'm dubious about menus that run as long as Il Mulino's, which stretches to more than 80 dishes.

If you like veal, you'll want to order "Milano arugula." It's a veal chop that's been pounded thin enough to hide all the white on your plate, then breaded and sauteed to a lovely golden crisp. Decorating the surface of the meat is a lawn of chopped arugula, tomatoes and onion that gives each bite of warm veal fresh punch. Eating this dish makes me very happy. Knowing it has so little good company on the menu has the opposite effect.

Minor satisfactions abound. Thinly sliced eggplant wrapped around a quartet of white cheeses makes a pleasant introduction. Linguine with seafood is cooked to retain a little bite, and its seasoned red sauce delivers a nice kick. Lamb ragout makes a decent drape for fettuccine. And if it weren't for some unevenly cooked parts, chicken in a haze of garlic would probably merit a return visit from me; it's a pleasantly homey recipe. If the desserts go for baroque with berries, whipped cream, cookies and zabaglione, they're also crowd pleasers. Cheesecake and tartufo are the best of the bunch.

Much of the rest of the menu is just tedious. The $12 Caesar salad looks as if it were assembled yesterday, a problem made worse by its less-than-stellar dressing. A $70 Dover sole tastes only of lemon; at that price, you want the fish to sing the praises of the sea (or at least you want to remember it for more than its cost). Ravioli filled with minced porcini mushrooms hides beneath a thick blanket of truffle-speckled cream sauce; the dish would be better with a quarter of its rich cover. But it's a wiser choice than the gnocchi, a huge portion of leaden dumplings made less appetizing by a flat pesto. "This will help you lose weight," a dining companion said, as she pushed away the bowl. The wine list is a shallow document that plays up big-ticket Italian reds and offers no bargains that I can see. A modest prosecco is an immodest $40 a bottle.