Or you can come in and have a vintage wine from 1997 and a four-course dinner. “So you could come in and have a very reasonably priced bottle and a pizza. “The idea of the wine list at all the Cibos is: there’s something for everybody,” Weidig added. The wines at Cibo, she said, have a “heavy Italian focus,” including a number of less-common indigenous varietals that “most American consumers don't get exposed to very often, at really affordable prices. She went on to get her Wine and Spirit Education Trust certification. When the wine manager quit a couple of weeks later, Weidig stepped in. “It was terrifying but it was fun,” she said. A schoolteacher looking for a change and a chance to work with wine, she got set on a trapeze her very first day. “We always want to educate our guests,” said Natale.Īmy Weidig, the wine director at the Miami Beach location, began as an angel. And half-priced happy hours with an ever-changing choice of offerings allow budding oenophiles to develop their palate with a selection designed with a purpose in mind. Some of the most savory are offered by the glass, as well. It offers a 1960 Latour, a 1993 Banfi Brunello di Montalcino, and a 1983 Opus One. And if that don't do you, there's a 60-vintage private collection for truly discriminating tastes. They offer better than 300 different wines – everything from Champagnes and sparkling to port and desserts, including reds, whites, and varietals from around the world. Believe me, they don't call it a "Wine Bar" for nothing.Įach Cibo location features a floor-to-ceiling, glass-encased wine cellar filled with hundreds of bottles that range from modest moderns to dusty vintage bouquets awaiting the right connoisseur with wherewithal. (The bottles also have an authentic Italian pedigree: designed by the artist John Alexander, they’re made at the Bruni Glass factory in Milan.)Īnd then there's the wine. There’s an array of skull-shaped Dan Aykroyd's Crystal Head vodka bottles ensconced in neat squares at the entrance – all clear but for one that’s blood red. But, then again, a second look and the pattern reveals itself – those colors, green, and white, and red again, spill across the room like a gentle mist in the wind. The arrangement has the free-flowing feel of nature itself. The Miami Beach flagship boasts an intricate, yet delicate design of transparent glass globes dangling from the ceiling like multicolored raindrops. Pastas arranged by color – green, and white, and red – paint the colors of the Italian flag above the salumeria. And all playing into the “Oh, so Italian” theme. Each Cibo is an artistic endeavor unto itself – a deceptively simple rustic wood and stone setting, with individual touches chosen by the founder’s wife that are both subtle and sublime.
The attention to detail goes beyond the scrupulous selection of genuine ingredients and the insistence on treating the pastas and prosciuttos with painstaking care. “That keeps it truly crudo,” he explains. The $10,000 slicer’s blade is internally cooled so that the meat doesn't get heated as it’s cut. The salumeria serves up freshly sliced meats cut with the "Porsche of slicers," as Chris Papadopoulos, general manager of the Miami Beach venue proudly describes it. They make pasta fresh at each location – you can even watch. The authenticity of its cuisine, with ingredients imported from Italy, has earned it the Ospitalitá Italiana Seal of Quality certification. “It’s a little olive oil and a lot of love.” “Italian cooking is not French cuisine,” said Salvatore Natale, general manager of the Fort Lauderdale location. The menu comprises a rich and savory mix of Old World flavors like you would find in mama's house, if mama were the finest cook in town. Meticulously coordinated contemporary art adorns a space that’s both sylvan and sophisticated, coarse and cultured, homey and refined. The rich aroma of pungent herbs and coal-fired foods surround you as you step inside. With three South Florida locations, Cibo is a feast for the senses – the smells, the sights and oh, those tastes.
0 kommentar(er)
