Food Fight

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TINA FINEBERG / AP

Chef Mario Batali plates a pasta dish in the kitchen of his New York restaurant, Del Posto

In the introduction to his 522-page magnum opus, Molto Italiano, chef Mario Batali reflects on the frenzy that now accompanies the opening of many American restaurants. "In recent years," he writes in the cookbook, which was published last May, "we seem to care more about the opening of a new restaurant than we do the opening of a new play or a new version of Don Giovanni by the local opera company. This makes me happy, but at the same time, it makes me just a little sad."

And so Batali, who has a history of predicting exactly what New York City wants to consume—he has helped devise and open eight successful Manhattan eateries in the last 13 years—had precisely predicted the operatic events surrounding the opening of his latest, Del Posto. Situated in the ridiculously trendy Meatpacking District, Del Posto occupies one of the grandest restaurant spaces in the city, where even four-star places usually use opulence to hide their cramped dimensions (expensive, feathery Riedel wine goblets break if you brush them with a fingernail, but they do keep one's focus on the table).

Del Posto is both cavernous and opulent; it cost something like $12 million. But since it began serving meals in December, the place has been threatened by jaded Manhattanites skeptical of the valet parking (real New Yorkers walk), by restaurant critics who seem eager to see Batali finally stumble and by its own landlord, who is trying to close the place and evict its owners. I haven't even gotten to the part where the Hudson River flooded Del Posto, but the point is, this is a lot more fun than Don Giovanni.

Batali and the other Del Posto principals—legendary impresario of Italian cuisine Lidia Matticchio Bastianich (host of the PBS cooking shows that bear her name) and her son Joseph, Batali's longtime partner and a winemaker—had never attempted something quite so spectacular as Del Posto. They knew they needed media attention, and they allowed a Food Network crew to visit the building site repeatedly. According to the show that resulted—Mario, FULL BOIL which aired February 18—construction was delayed interminably because engineers trying to lay the restaurant's foundation dug themselves into the Hudson River. Water soaked the site for weeks.

When I met Lidia Bastianich for the first time about a year ago (see The Matron Saint of Pasta and Risotto con Aragosta), she told me Del Posto would be open by summer 2005. Then it was October, then November, and on and on. At some point I stopped asking; the tension over construction costs and delays was obvious. Batali has a staggering array of national ventures to push this year—a partnership with NASCAR (for whom Batali has written a tailgating cookbook, to be published in April), his lines of cookware and packaged foods, three (three!) new restaurants in Las Vegas, another in Los Angeles—and Del Posto needed to open big.

Instead, within days, the restaurant's landlord filed a lawsuit saying Del Posto had violated its lease during construction by building into unauthorized space and installing unapproved lights. The landlord has also claimed the restaurant lacked all its city permits. The spat seems a bit overblown—permitting delays?—but the New York Post reported last week that billionaire financier Henry Kravis, a Del Posto investor, is trying to negotiate a settlement with the landlord. For their part, Batali and Joseph Bastianich have told reporters they hope to be at their corner of 16th Street and Tenth Avenue for the duration of their 25-year lease. "I'm sure we'll figure it out amicably," Batali told me Saturday, sounding very ready for his trip to Barbados with his chefs this week.

And what of Del Posto's food? (Oh, yes, that.) I never thought I would say this, but I can't get enough of the duck testicles (an ingredient in the Pici with Cibreo and Black Truffles, a pasta dish). I'm not a professional restaurant critic—just a good eater—but I was surprised that at the same time Batali and the Bastianichs were being sued, they were earning some less-than-enthusiastic reviews. Critics from Time Out New York and New York magazine visited in the opening weeks—a rough time for any kitchen (where do we keep the artichokes?)—and used phrases like "not-especially memorable," "mystifying," and "somewhat strained."

But because of his paper's stature, New York Times critic Frank Bruni is the one who can really make or break a place like Del Posto. And last week Bruni awarded the restaurant three stars out of a possible four. Batali and the Bastianichs had been trying for four, but they were magnanimous about the three. "I think the food here is delicious," Batali said at Del Posto the day after the review appeared. "I think it's thoughtful. I think it's original. It's not blown-away remarkable on every bite right now, and it has to be to be four stars. So I'm happily accepting of Frank Bruni's review. I'm also happily accepting that I know he'll come back...After a year, we'll be able to see what kind of fruit we can pull from this tree." And with that, Batali got up and did something he hasn't yet been able to do in these frenzied months of worrying about Del Posto: sit down with his wife and eat a meal there.