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The ladies and gentlemen who haunt this place are of a type - they travel in packs, emitting the faint green rustle of freshly minted cash. Their designer jeans (size 0 or 2) cost $450; they are putting their plastic surgeons' kids through law school. But don't let it put you off: This gorgeous space, run by two expats from Bice Ristorante across the bridge, ought to be shared by us all. The Italian/sushi/tapas menu (OK, that's a little weird) is huge and varied: delightful tapas like the warm chick-pea cake mixed with goat cheese and topped with sautéed mushrooms; mini rice balls subtly laced with mozzarella and Parmesan and holding a tiny dab of meat sauce in their center; baby spare ribs in apricot sauce; tuna tartar with eggplant; white and mushroom pizzas; composed salads; and bowls of barley and bean or egg drop soup. Plus 13 varieties of fresh pasta and three of dried, plus a first-rate balsamic roasted chicken and osso buco.