Bar Italia

Space is one of the first things that hits you when you enter Bar Italia, a three-in-one concept stretching from Rokin to Nes. There’s something very New York about the unvarnished wooden floors, exposed bricks and low-lit seating booths; but the gastronomic emphasis is definitely on Italy.

The idea behind Bar Italia is to offer a mainly young, hip crowd food and drink almost around the clock. On the Rokin side of the building is a basement espresso bar, which opens at 8 a.m. for coffee, pastries and sandwiches.

Above it is a caffè (bar), open from 4 p.m. for an after-work drink. More than 50 wines, all Italian, are available by the bottle (although only a handful of these can be ordered by the glass), so that after-work drink can easily run on far into the evening. If you get hungry, it’s a short stumble through a narrow corridor to the restaurant on the Nes side of the building.

I first ate at Bar Italia in October 2009, a week after it had opened. I was impressed by the friendly, efficient service and the creative twists given to classic Italian dishes – vitello tonnato with truffle-infused mayonnaise; ravioli stuffed with pheasant and aromatic sage; a heady dessert of scroppino whisked into a frothy cocktail at our table.

I was also impressed that such a new restaurant had apparently avoided the usual opening pitfall – insufficient chefs, servers still trying to remember what's on the menu etc - or had already ironed them out. As a result, I wrote a glowing review for another publication.

Last week, R. and I decided on a whim to go out for dinner and guessed that Bar Italia was large enough to have a table if we turned up without a reservation.

Six months on, Bar Italia's opening buzz hadn't died down at all. On a Wednesday evening the place was heaving and we were lucky to find a small corner table to squeeze into. Everything else had died a death.

The starter of home-smoked halibut with courgette carpaccio had little flavour, and the accompanying shrimp salad was literally that - a few green leaves topped with a forlorn, single crustacean.

The main courses of carré of lamb in a herb crust with braised spring onion and turnip and potato mousseline; and stuffed spring chicken served with a disc of polenta, green pea pesto and vegetables sounded wonderful on the menu, but on our plates were equally mediocre. What can you write about food that lacks taste?

The 2007 Primitivo del Salento igt ‘Pietrafitta’ house wine, the most expensive of the three reds on offer, missed any of the fruity aromas or powerful black cherry flavours promised in the description. The glass it came in was also coated in a grimy film, as if it had been handled by too many sticky fingers.

Bar Italia’s desserts - torta di limone, warm chocolate tart with pear sorbet, Sicilian ricotta cassata with candied fruit and caramelised hazelnuts - sounded like they might be able to salvage the meal, but we had to wait so long for a menu that we gave up and bought ice cream from IJscuypje instead.

The bill came to €75, which, for a starter, two mains and a few glasses of wine, all of which were insipid, wasn't money well spent. I never thought I would say this about a restaurant, but bring back opening week.