First take on the new Ciao

Thanks to a couple of gushing "mobile reviews" on Urbanspoon, I decided I could go ahead and try Ciao, on Olmos Drive just east of the Circle. It used to be one of Damien Watel's places -- the downscale one, but still really, really good -- but ... well, it seems local-celebrity-Chef Watel has run into some financial difficulties because he's selling off his restaurants (La Frite, the Belgian bistro on South Alamo, has also changed owners recently). Maybe the new place out beyond Loopland is sucking up more of his resources than he anticipated. Whatever the reason, the new owners -- he's the chef, she's the wine steward; I think their name is Walker but I may not remember that right -- have already begun to accrue some favourable opinion from the sort of people who post one-sentence reviews from their smart-phones. Me, I don't have a smart phone: as far as I can tell from my limited exposure to them, they exist only so your boss can make you work longer hours, and you can get your friends to say "ooh" when you make the screen images slide around. And as anyone can tell after reading anything I've written, I prefer the prolixity facilitated by a laptop computer. 

I don't doubt that the new folks at Ciao are working hard at making their restaurant better than it was when it was Watel's; a tall order, since it was pretty darn good from day one. They haven't yet had time to update the web page, even. What's it been, like, a month? Two? Tut, tut.

What does that mean?

But they're doing good. The menu is a little more extensive than it was before; it has more variety, but still carries an identifiably Italian identity throughout; and the wine list is extensive enough, I suspect, to satisfy any reasonable demand. We opted for stuffed eggplant and shrimp with risotto, sixteen and eighteen dollars, respectively, and although when our food came it looked like puny, unsatisfactory servings, neither of us was dissatisfied in the end.

There was, unfortunately, a large party in the other room that was causing some disorganization in the kitchen, because after a surprisingly long wait our server appeared to make her excuses for the delay. We asked for bread to tide us over. The foccacia bread that was brought was excellent: warm, but not hot, with a cheesy tang and a full, substantial texture. Shortly after that the food arrived.

I believe the Walkers acquired the crockery with the door keys. It must be hell, trying to stack all those different shapes in the kitchen. No two plates on the table were the same shape and size. Ordinarily I wouldn't even mention this, but it seems, somehow, self-consciously affected to have so many different plates.

The entrées, though, were excellent, though I might've picked a better wine to go with mine. But I ordered the wine before deciding what I would be having, so it's my own damn fault.

The only real complaint I have is the dessert. I was assured that the cannoli were made in-house, so I ordered them. (I'm a sucker for cannoli.) What we got were three tiny pastry tubes, their ends dipped in chocolate, stuffed with cold, sweet ricotta, and artfully laid out on a swirl of chocolate. But the shells were, I'm sorry, stale, and we had to send them back. Cannoli shells are tempermental things, and must be cosseted and catered to. They must have everything they want, right down to the preferred colour of M&Ms in their dressing rooms, or they just won't perform as they should. These cannoli shells were obviously given a bag of peanut M&Ms and sent out onto the stage.

The decor is largely unchanged, which is somehow reassuring. Often, new owners of a well-known place will start off by doing everything over differently, forgetting that, while we may like or dislike the décor, it's the food we come for, and come back for. A few small changes are all that the new people have bothered with, possibly on the theory that if it ain't broke, don't fix it.