If an Italian art museum was scooped up by a tornado and dropped on top of the kind of bar a lot of people drunk drove home from in the 1970s you would have a very good idea about the interiors of the restaurant I ate at a few weeks ago.
Fans of vintage Pizza Huts will relish the bevy of Tiffany-style knock off chandeliers throwing their fractal beams against deco mirrors and alighting a painting of The Last Supper so massive that if you made it water-tight, you could sail it across the Atlantic.
A long wooden booth that spans a significant part of the room channels the pews in a cathedral. Even the beer cooler has been lined with a kaleidoscopic film that makes it look like a stained glass church window.
The designers have somehow taken the kind of stuff that languishes in the back of antique and thrift stores and constructed a comfy elegant room replete with a swirling marble-look floor.
They have also created one of the coolest logos ever which I’ll now refer to as the the Illuminati Martini.
This restaurant ultimately has a thrifty religious operatic quality making it an appropriate spot for giving a confession or for filming a random movie-style mob massacre, and most importantly for providing top-notch digestive communion.