There are two things, three if I include
the waterfall, that you must disregard when considering a trip
to Io, a new southern Italian restaurant in Williamsburg.
The first is its location on Kent Avenue, a stretch of road so
desolate that a coyote sighting wouldn’t come as a surprise.
The second (women pay attention) is the restaurant’s bar area,
the first room you step into when entering Io. The long bar is
lined with guys, in hard hats or shiny suits, who stared so intently
that I wondered if my coat was on backwards.
The third is that waterfall, a design that resembles a collaboration
between I.M. Pei and the third-grade class at PS 124. If viewed
from the top, the waterfall is high-tech – a stream of water
cascading down an aluminum sheet. The base of the waterfall ends
in a stone-covered wishing well of sorts lined with what appears
to be a green-and-white kiddy pool.
Once you’ve said, "Where the hell is this place?" 10
times, and ignored the glare of the front room patrons, you’ll
have a fine dinner in an elegant room with accommodating service.
Ruby-colored, hand-rubbed walls hung with Botero knock-offs of
pre-Atkins diet couples, big gilt mirrors, and a huge window
with a glamorous view of Manhattan seem worlds apart from the
entrance.
Couples from Queens who, according to chef and co-owner John
Mancuso, "grew up in Williamsburg and want to visit the
old neighborhood," and "plenty of people from the area
who just want good food" fill the room.
Mancuso, who cooked at the Water’s Edge, a seafood restaurant
in Long Island City, before opening Tuscany Restaurant on Long
Island, then Io (pronounced EEE-oh and means "I" or
"me" in Italian) last June, serves a menu of dependable
Italian dishes, many of them beautifully executed, with a few
twists that can make a good but predictable meal exciting.
Mancuso’s shrimp cappuccino is a clever take on the drink. A
deep glass goblet is filled with velvety, rich, deeply flavored
pink shrimp bisque topped with a thick head of foam. A huge grilled
shrimp balances on the rim of the glass. It was fun to drink
– the foam serving as an airy foil to the thick soup – and the
bisque tasted more of good shellfish stock than cream.
Order a few appetizers and your table will look like a convention
of antennaed creatures. Mancuso has a penchant for frying angel
hair pasta then using the browned strands as double-spiked garnishes.
Beneath the decorations, you’ll find an uneven medley of starters.
Maryland crab cakes were filled with sweet crabmeat. A drizzle
of tart, spicy, roasted red pepper aioli brightens the flavor.
Lightly fried calamari and a fresh, mildly seasoned marinara
sauce won’t disappoint anyone, but I’d leave the flavorless roasted
garlic aioli on the side of the plate. A bland portobello mushroom
stuffed with spinach and fresh mozzarella and then wrapped in
puff pastry is enhanced by an aromatic mushroom demi-glace.
Other starters were a crisp, authentic Caesar salad, with a garlicky,
anchovy-infused dressing. I would have enjoyed the Tuscan salad
– a mix of tangy artichoke hearts, crisp asparagus, endive, pignoli
nuts and a pungent Gorgonzola – more if its ingredients hadn’t
been reduced to a slaw.
My eyelids get heavy the minute I see lobster ravioli, especially
lobster ravioli in a pink sauce, on a menu. I’ve had countless
mediocre renditions. But Mancuso’s house-made lobster ravioli
was wondrous. The pasta that surrounds a chunky filling of lobster
meat is nearly transparent. His pink sauce, with its bits of
smoky prosciutto, was spoon-licking delicious yet doesn’t overpower
the clean, sweetness of the lobster.
Cavatappi, a long, corkscrew pasta, tossed with soft squares
of tender eggplant was a pleasing harmony of smoky, melting mozzarella
and fresh tomato sauce with the pronounced anise flavor of basil.
I’ve sworn off sweet potatoes since Thanksgiving, but the entree
of grilled pork tenderloin with sweet potato hash renewed my
interest. The meat was soft and sweet, with a charcoal scent,
and the sweet potatoes – more mash than hash – were topped with
caramelized onions and a syrupy reduction of meat juices.
The St. Peter’s fish (also known as John Dory), however, was
dull – too delicate to get much of a kick from its bed of under-seasoned
risotto. A sauce of smoked tomatoes added nothing more than a
spot of color to the plate.
It’s no surprise that every diner sitting near our table ordered
dessert. Mancuso’s creations are beautifully plated and, with
the exception of a slice of heavy cheesecake theatrically throned
atop a glass brick, exceptional examples of both traditional
and more innovative Italian fare.
A slice of pound cake sauteed in butter was crisp on the outside,
its center puffy – more like an angel food cake. A scoop of house-made
vanilla bean ice cream melted over the slice and a pretty star,
drawn with chocolate sauce on the plate, added a touch more sweetness.
Airy, crusty, hot and cold – who knew a slice of pound cake could
be such a pleasure?
The tiramisu was eggy with an edge of bitter coffee and a subtle
hint of brandy. Creme brulee wore a veneer of browned sugar as
thin as lace, and an apple cobbler with a crumb topping was lighter
than most, with the sweetness of the apples brightened with lemon
zest.
At a nearby table, a man made a confession to his wife and another
couple that might have shocked the aforementioned men on bar
stools: He said "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" changed
his life.
"I shave with the grain now, not against it," he said
pointing to his neck.
The women at the table excused themselves and headed for the
bar.
While they were gone, the men gobbled up two desserts meant for
four. What would the Fab Five say about that?
Io (119 Kent Ave. at North Seventh Street
in Williamsburg) accepts Visa and MasterCard. Dinner is served
seven days a week. Brunch is offered on Sunday from 11:30 am
to 4 pm. Entrees: $6-$21; family-style entrees that serve four:
$11-$35. For reservations, call (718) 388-3320.
