Michael Bauer is the local God's Gift To Restaurant Reviewing, but contrary to his own opinion, he's not infallible.
And how do I know this?
Because he thinks Piccino is wonderful, giving it his maximum three stars.
He also believes it "captures the spirit of the emerging (Dogpatch) neighborhood the way Nopa did a few years ago."
Now, I won't argue against Piccino capturing the spirit of Dogpatch, but as a biased local who could practically throw a decent-sized stone down the hill to the Dogpatch, I bemoan the desperately straight-laced clientele that I regularly see in Piccino.
And Bauer can stuff his three stars right where the sun don't shine, along with Piccino's overly-dry and crusty pizzas, puritanical salads, and miniscule plates of food too far from decadent to be of much interest.
Having said that, if you're hankering for a dry and crusty pizza, a puritanical salad, or a miniscule plate of non-decadent food, shoulder to shoulder with the City's Birkenstock-wearing finest, cut along to Piccino.
We did today, and had a couple of the aforementioned salads, a horrible glass of Rose and a thimble-full of espresso.
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