So, we finally decided to give Colicchio & Sons a try. You hear the name, right? Tom Colicchio. Big expectations follow that. It was a special occasion, one of those anniversaries you’re supposed to do something a bit fancy for. So, I figured, why not? Made the reservation, polished my shoes – the whole nine yards, or at least my version of it.
We walked in. Place looked sharp, I’ll give it that. Low lighting, tables spaced out just so, a general hum of people trying to be sophisticated. Got shown to our table pretty quick. Service seemed on point from the get-go, water glasses filled, menus presented. All very smooth.
Then I opened the menu. And let me tell you, I had to read the prices twice. Okay, deep breath. Special night. We weren’t going to skimp, but still, it makes you pause. We decided to go for a couple of appetizers to share, something with seafood, and a pasta dish. The waiter was helpful, knew his stuff, didn’t try to upsell us too much, which I appreciated.
The food started arriving. Presentation was definitely a thing. Lots of artful swipes of sauce and tiny little herbs placed just so. The seafood thing, some kind of crudo, it was fresh. Couldn’t fault the quality of the fish. But was it mind-blowing? It was good. Just good. The pasta was similar. Cooked well, decent flavor. But again, I was waiting for that moment, that spark that makes you say “Ah, this is why you pay the big bucks.”
- The bread they brought out was excellent, actually. Warm, good crust. Sometimes it’s the simple things.
- Wine list was extensive. Found a bottle that didn’t require a background check.
For mains, I had a piece of fish, she went for a meat dish. Again, executed properly. My fish was flaky, sauce was balanced. Her meat was tender. Everything was… correct. Professionally done. But it felt like listening to a technically perfect musician who plays all the notes right but doesn’t quite make you feel anything deep down.
And that’s what got me thinking. I’ve eaten at a lot of places, from greasy spoons to fancy-pants establishments. Sometimes the hype is real. Sometimes, it feels like you’re paying for the name on the sign and the thread count of the napkins more than an actual leap in food quality or creativity. It’s like there’s a baseline of “very good” that many top restaurants hit, and then there’s this tiny sliver above it that’s truly exceptional, and it’s so damn hard to find.
We did get dessert. A chocolate something-or-other. Rich, well-made. No complaints there. By the end of the meal, I felt satisfied, in the sense that I wasn’t hungry anymore. The service remained attentive throughout, clearing plates, refilling drinks, never intrusive. They ran a tight ship.
So, Colicchio & Sons. It was a perfectly fine dining experience at a high-end restaurant. Everything was done to a high standard. But did it leave a lasting impression that matched the name and the bill? For me, not quite. It was competent, professional, and very expensive. I’ve had meals for a quarter of the price that I remember more vividly, that had more soul, you know? Maybe that’s just me. I’m glad we went, ticked it off the list. But I walked out feeling more appreciative of places that deliver big flavors and memorable moments without needing the celebrity chef price tag. It’s a good reminder that good food is good food, no matter where you find it.
