Philip G.
Google
Dodici was an odd restaurant. I was confused from the moment we walked in. Asked to wait in two lonely chairs facing a window overlooking a tree, I wanted a cocktail or something to occupy our time. Instead, I stared at the tree. After 20 minutes past our reservation time, we were escorted upstairs to the mostly empty dining room.
The matître’d/manager was a lovely man who tried to speak English as best he could. We don’t speak a word of Japanese, so the onus was on us. Communication was difficult. The maître’d was attentive all night and did everything he could to please. I wanted a cocktail in the worst way, and if not a cocktail, at least sake. It was not meant to be. My wife had a lovely glass of Sauvignon Blanc from Pessac-Leognan, and I had plumb wine on the rocks. That isn’t the martini I craved.
The menu at Dodici is a degustation, and the multiple dishes began to arrive. I was expecting Italian food, pasta, maybe veal, etc. Nope. Dodici served creative Japanese-inspired, cosmopolitan dishes, with only a hint of Italian. My wife enjoyed the dinner more than me. I only appreciated one or two of the dishes.
Dodici’s food disappointed, but the space, the serving pieces, and the service was fantastic. If the array of dishes included truffle pasta buttons, I might be singing its praises, unfortunately, the food was very mediocre, especially with a final bill of $385.00 U.S. C’est la vie. Oops, that’s French.