"The other night at Osteria La Baia, a 'coastal Italian' restaurant that opened last year, in midtown, a genial manager asked my party how we’d heard about the place. The truth was that we’d read about it. In February, Politico identified Osteria La Baia as a favored haunt of Eric Adams, New York City’s mayor. The meticulous investigation was missing only one key aspect: How was the branzino? A Caesar salad was palatable enough, if overdressed. The vitello tonnato, finished with caper berries, was unobjectionable—the high point of the meal, in retrospect—and I could muster only faint complaints about the lukewarm vegan pizza topped with delicata squash and green dollops of hemp ricotta. Chewy lobster did nothing to redeem limp garganelli. The rigatoni alla Norma was overcooked and undersalted, the eggplant in the too sweet sauce barely traceable. The branzino was presented gutted and splayed skin side up, with its head in a forward position, tail at attention, like a fish-skin rug. The edges of the skin were bubbled and charred, but the center was taut and stretchy. My companions and I poked halfheartedly at the white flesh beneath, which sat on a mess of olives, tomatoes, and sweet peppers." - Hannah Goldfield
