July 11 (Bloomberg) -- The hostess turned, started walking into the dining area. I followed. She looked back, scowled, stopped and wordlessly gestured with flattened palms toward the floor, the universal dog-training command of ``Stay!''

One small reason why Italians don't pull off fancy restaurants all that well.

Insieme, a new restaurant near the northern boundary of Manhattan's Times Square, not only earnestly tries to do so, it succeeds in several important ways: ambition, generosity, wine. Where food is concerned, it depends on whether you look to the left (traditional) or the right (contemporary) side of the menu.

It's not that Italians can't do fancy. Think Armani and Lamborghini. It's more that Italian food isn't tremendously successful when it becomes too complicated. It's best as home cooking -- profoundly fresh and simple -- and not as an elitist cuisine.

The chef of Insieme (``Together'') is the extremely well- regarded Marco Canora, who spent years running the kitchen of Craft, where I assume he chafed under the restraint of producing the most straightforward food imaginable. (His gnocchi there made him famous.)

He unshackled himself at Hearth, his place in the East Village, cooking Italian food with new American and old French influences, and at Insieme he's created an Italian menu that makes Dante's ``Divine Comedy'' seem like light reading.

In the very comfortable bar of the Michelangelo hotel, where the restaurant is located and where customers can wait for tables, I overheard a man say to his wife, ``This menu is way too complicated. It's going to take a lot of mental lifting.''

Veal Tartare

The left side lists antipasti, primi, secondi. The food isn't quite as conventional as that sounds, chiefly because Canora loves to add extras. The veal tartare (vitellone crudo) tastes less like meat than it does like porcini mushrooms, which are generously folded in as chopped bits and as roasted puree. There are anchovies, garlic and spring onions, too.

Here, linguine comes with clams three ways: the chopped body, the whole bellies and a few cockles in their shell. The fish stew, a bit like cioppino, has a whole soft-shell crab (maybe not the best idea) plopped in the sauce, as well as clams, blue prawns, mussels and striped bass.

The 26-ounce Florentine-style steak for two is a beautifully trimmed piece of grass-fed Piedmontese beef, lean, earthy and pan-roasted. My only complaint is that for $78, Canora could have tossed in a side of beans.

Boiled, Roasted

The boiled meats -- here called lesso misto and not bollito misto -- are close to perfect, the only flaw a stubborn piece of organic chicken that defies logic and remains tough and tasteless in spite of long immersion in cooking liquid. Roasted pork comes to the table in a sage-scented jus that turns it fragrant and moist.

Only the lasagna, tried twice, disappoints. The overcooked pasta has the same consistency as the ragu.

The right side sounds even plainer: appetizers, middle courses, main courses. It's not. Trouble lies ahead, although only two dishes are to be avoided. The first is the king salmon, slow-cooked to a near-pulp, although it's almost worth ordering to gaze upon the gemlike snap peas, halved and amplified with a bead of salmon roe between each pea. The other is the ``smoky sea risotto,'' so saturated with smoked bonito flakes that the sea urchin and cucumber become irrelevant. The taste is that of bad Japanese street food.

Perhaps the most brilliant dish on the menu is lamb carpaccio, gorgeous and smartly conceived. The rosy meat is topped with beans, spring onions, chili flakes, diced young pecorino, pecorino crisps and mint. In this case, what is seemingly too much isn't at all. If you suspect that mint and cheese are incompatible, you'll learn they are not.

Wine-Friendly

Attention must be paid to wine, simply because of wine director Paul Grieco, unremittingly well-dressed and insightful. His list at Hearth is wide-ranging, wordy and pricey; at Insieme, he's done a better job assembling a people-friendly (rather than geek-accessible) list, although you might still require his services. Our waiter had a theory about Grieco's arcane menu-writing philosophy: ``Paul likes to swoop in and save the day.''

Should you order by the glass, you're offered a taste before you commit, which is nice. Order a bottle and you're likely to end up with something fabulous, as I did twice, first with a 2006 Terredora di Paolo Falanghina ($35), the essence of what a tart, fruity young Italian white should be, and second with a 2000 Villa Carafa Taurasi ($52), made with the aglianico grape but a cab-lover's dream. Grieco hooks customers by finding wines they decide they can't live without.

The room is neutral, ``desperately neutral,'' according to one of my friends. It might also be thought of as modern and timeless, if you're fond of white and beige. Nothing within will catch your eye, not even the large but muted floral arrangement in the center of the room.

Nearby Theater

Outside is the commercial garishness of Seventh Avenue, New York's Waikiki Beach. The room is a respite in many ways, although the noise level inside and outside is about the same.

Service is agreeable, if not always expert, but the dishes are much to blame. The staff attempts to explain everything, but there is so much to recite: the multiple meats in the lesso misto and the fritto misto. The four different guises in which the lamb appears. Guinea hen comes every which way, too (the wing, liver and thigh are flavorful, but the breast is carved into dry, distressing little logs).

You will be relieved when the descriptive portions of the evening end. Here's a service bonus: No waiter will pass by, hawking grated cheese. The dishes are intended to be self- contained.

Cheese, Berry Triumph

Order dessert and go out in style. You'll get a pre-dessert of sorbet in a cool, macerated-peach and vodka consomme and a post-dessert of an extra-tall shot glass filled with chocolate and espresso, plus a slew of mini-cookies. The desserts are also divided into traditional or contemporary. Both are successful, with the strawberry and robiola cheese terrine (contemporary) an unlikely triumph.

One more thing: the menu has a center section, too.

There you'll find the tasting menu. I ordered one dish a la carte, and out came exquisite duck breast in a cloyingly sweet orange sauce. I assumed it belonged to the contemporary genre, but the waiter said it was ultra-traditional: ``When Marco Polo brought back pasta from China, he also brought back duck with orange sauce.''

Neither Marco had any business falling for this dish.

The Bloomberg Questions

Cost? Prices range from $12 for a mixed salad to $78 for a Florentine-style steak for two.

Sound level? Waiters taking orders often move around the table, stopping beside each customer, in order to hear.

Date place? Yes, but Grieco sometimes takes a seat at your table while he explains the wines. You might find your date a little too entranced.

Inside tip? Take heed of the trek to the washroom -- you have to climb 25 steps coming back up.

Special feature? It's worth ordering coffee for the little pitcher of warmed foamed milk that appears alongside.

Private room? Yes.

Lunch? Yes.

Will I be back? Those wines. That lamb carpaccio. I guess so.

Insieme is at 777 Seventh Ave., at 51st Street. Information: +1-212-582-1310 or http://www.restaurantinsieme.com.

(Alan Richman is a restaurant critic for Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed are his own.)

To contact the writer of this story: Alan Richman at thecritic@optonline.net.

Last Updated: July 11, 2007 00:08 EDT