dining out

Piattini Wine Café (617) 536-2020 226 Newbury Street (Back Bay), Boston Open daily, 11 a.m.–3 p.m. and 5–11 p.m. AE, MC, Vi Full bar Access down eight steps from sidewalk level No valet parking

Piattini aspires to some of the Continental elegance of nearby Armani Café, but the cuisine on three recent visits did not meet that worthy intention. In particular, the food buyers undermined the cook, the cook undermined the menu, and there were things that just shouldn’t happen at all, like the still-frozen fruit tart from Milan.

Let’s start with the namesake piattini ($6.95 to $9.95) — “small plates” — and the problems at the market. It’s not unheard-of for mussels ($9.95) to get past their peak, but these were bad enough for us to send back. Now, I hardly ever send back anything when I’m doing a review, because if it’s bad, I keep trying to figure out why. But there was no mystery on this plate. My guest and I each tasted two, to make sure. We were sure.

So then we had bocconcini ($7.95), the salad of fresh mozzarella, “vine-ripened” tomatoes, basil, and olive oil. Well, these tomatoes were ripened on a vine, but either they were a variety that doesn’t really ripen anywhere, or the vine was in a poorly heated greenhouse. Even worse was “cime di rape” ($6.95), described as “sautéed broccoli rabe, hot red pepper, and garlic.” The “marketing team” delivered rabe that wasn’t quite as fresh and sweet as you really want in a naked sauté like this, and the chef exacted revenge by leaving out the red pepper.

Verdura alla griglia ($7.95) was not much grill-marked, but certainly had all the garlic the menu promised. The dish was zucchini, onion, and rather good pimiento, but this is a lot of money for a side order of vegetables.

Our best piattino was “granchio” ($7.95), a couple of Maine crab cakes in a kind of elongated-cone croquette shape that worked well, served with a “homemade dressing” that tasted like a good, fresh homemade tartar sauce.

On the main dishes, the chef beat back the menu at every turn. “Risotto con gambaretti” ($16.95) was described as Arborio rice (which is used to make risotto) with shrimp and arugula. Now, some believe that risotto should be a little crunchy, and some favor smooth. Some believe it should taste mostly like wine, and some favor cheese. But all agree that this is a dish made creamy with suspended starch, whether you beat the starch out of short-grain rice like Italian Arborio with an hour of stirring, or shortcut with a pressure cooker. All but the Piattini chef, that is, who makes a dish with long-grain rice, no creamy starch, a thin sauce of actual cream, and that’s it. I ate the shrimp. I ate half the dull rice to be polite. (Somebody once asked Italo-American food writer Jack Bishop what to do with leftover risotto. His response was, “Leftover risotto?”)

With the vitello porcini ($18.95), for once the marketing staff came up with some good veal cutlets and some real porcini mushrooms. Pick up some Arborio rice, and you could make a terrific risotto. But no, this was vertical-food demonstration time. So the veal and mushrooms were piled on two boiled potatoes in a way that was as architecturally displeasing as one of those $20 parking garages near Quincy Market. But the main problem was the undercooked wine sauce, a chef’s error dating from the 1960s. This “marsala wine semi-glaze” was a semi-hemi-demi-glaze, if cooked at all.

The sandwiches — er, panini — are “toasted in a traditional panini grill,” and since they were really toasted, a traditional panini grill must be a lot like a toaster. They are large, long, handsome sandwiches — the original subs. The pittini ($8.95) combines prosciutto, white cheese, a fried chicken cutlet, fresh tomatoes, basil, and roasted red peppers. This is too many things, and one can taste only the cutlet, the cheese, and (unfortunately) the pink seasonal tomatoes. I couldn’t find the flavor of fresh basil at all. The pollo alla griglia ($8.50) works better because the chicken is a grilled breast with little flavor of its own, so you can taste the artichoke hearts and the spread of pesto (there’s the basil!), if not those tomatoes. On the melanzane ($7.95), we’re dealing with “Our classic homemade eggplant parmesan!” I’ve warned readers never to eat anything “famous” in a new restaurant. “Classic” would appear to be the new “famous.” It’s like, never volunteer for any program the boss describes as “exciting.” This isn’t a bad eggplant-parmesan sub, but it is a lukewarm one, somewhat greasy, and very dangerous to light-colored summer clothes.

Panini are served with a large pre-dressed salad, which was a lot fresher, weirdly enough, when I ordered take-out panini than when I ate them in-house.

The wine list at Piattini isn’t extensive, but it is interesting, and wines are served in very large glasses, which makes them easier to taste and smell. I was quite taken with a glass of 1999 Argiolas Costamolino Vermentino ($6.50; $27 for a bottle), a crisp Corsican white with the fruit and spice I remember from pre-popularity pinot grigios. A 1998 Montepulciano d’Abruzzo “Monti” ($8 glass, $29 bottle) was a soft but full-flavored example of that Southern Italian red.

Desserts are apparently flown in from Milan, but served rather cluelessly. Besides the still-frozen berry tart ($5.95) described as “fruit cake,” there was the melted tiramisu ($5.95), which tasted fine but looked like the puppy had a serious accident. Actually, I think they make the tiramisu there, so this could be fixed if the chef would climb down from the potato towers and find some ice-cream glasses with sides. Chocolate mousse ($5.95) must be made there, because I’ve never tasted such a low-sugar, rather sticky mousse before. Some people will really love this, but it is unusual.

Service at Piattini is quite good, with attractive waiters and waitresses from Europe, if not exactly Italy. The room is underground, but reasonably cool and airy, with bare brick, polished floors, copper-topped tables, framed mirrors on the walls, Tuscan yellow-and-white panels. A tougher eye at the market and some attention to cooking could save this menu. Or the café could concentrate on wine and go to a menu with more cheeses, a few simple roast meats, and some better shellfish. Or, heck, they could give one of those Niçois waiters a few cooking lessons and go Provençal.

Robert Nadeau can be reached at robtnadeau@aol.com.