Villanelle

American.  Villanelle is incredibly attentive.  And entirely chill.  Return to your table and find the napkin refolded, a server on hand to pull out the chair.  But don’t start getting ideas, because it all takes place in an atmosphere and surroundings that are totally laid back.

An interesting balance, with a menu as provocative as you’ll ever encounter.  I learned several new words: allium, robiola, nage (and that ignorance is bliss when it’s this incredibly flavorful).

The meal began with warm bread and yogurt butter.  So fluffy and fresh I would have sworn it had been baked just moments earlier.  Next, bresaola plus this delicious, giant cheddar cracker which served as the perfect host.

Equally profound were the entrées, as proven by the roasted chicken (barley ragu, green garbanzo, fava) and spring lamb with cabbage, kohlrabi and vinaigrette.  Each of the accompaniments as considered and delicious as the dishes they enhance.

At Villanelle, they aim to leave their patrons awestruck, which happened once again, courtesy of chocolate sorbet with raspberry and Dutch ganache.

Feeling as I did, I yearned to do a backflip, but decorum (and a lack of sensible shoes) kept me planted on the ground.