Sitting in Colicchio and Sons' lofty dining room, a friend and I gaped and poked at her dish. It was a plate of squid-ink risotto, sticky-sweet chocolate sauce, tomato sauce, and a single tentacle, trisected, stuffed with black kale and put back together to resemble a horn. It seemed more like an experiment than an appetizer—flavors clashing, marquee cephalopod languishing on the plate tough and unloved. "I don't think Colicchio's honoring the... More >>>