velliott@MiamiHerald.com

Since opening in early August, Quattro has become numero uno on the speed dial of self-respecting A-listers. The ambitious Italian seductress on Lincoln Road has given habitués of Casa Tua and Prime 112 a hangout with both beauty and brains.

It's no wonder the place is a scene stealer with owners who include veteran South Beach hipsters Karim Masri and Nicola Siervo (Bambu, Joia, Mynt, Rokbar, Vita, The Astor) and ex-NBA center Rony Seikaly. Clear Murano-like glass chandeliers throw shards of light across tables that snake across vintage-looking terrazzo floors in black, green and gold. The handsome bar glitters with dozens of tea lights that transform a wall of bottles into a light show.

The edge-to-edge tables are crisply dressed in ecru linens finer than the stuff most of us sleep on, and the walls are lined with buttery leather banquettes the color of gently toasted pine nuts. Above them are mirrors that reflect a gentle glow onto the faces of guests flush with youth, health, wealth and good dermatology.

Floor-length pinstripe aprons pull together the wait staff's crisp white dress shirts, black ties and five-button vests, giving them the sharp but sometimes deceptive look of real pros. (More about that in a minute.)

With all the glamour, the food could have been an afterthought, but in the talented hands of chefs Nicola and Fabrizio Carro, it is not, for the most part. From the perfectly baked eggplant Parmigiana with restrained layers of sauce and mozzarella to the hand-hewn trofie (tiny spindles of pasta with pea-size chunks of potato in a dynamic Ligurian pesto) and the salads as well-dressed as the customers, it is clear these twin brothers from Piemonte know what they are doing in the kitchen.

Perhaps they haven't been in Florida long enough to realize that dishes like their smoothly rich broccoli flan in a zesty cream sauce and unfortunately overcooked agnolotti with rich beef stew are too heavy for our climate. Better choices are to be found among the simple cold starts such as tender tentacles of octopus lightly marinated with lemon and oil and served over a puree of mashed potatoes with a crown of baby chives. Also excellent: baby Mediterranean mussels sautéed with garlic and olive oil and creamy imported burrata cheese drizzled with oil.

Be warned, though: As good as the food can be, it can also suffer from nightmarish delays on busy nights. The shrimp, squid and baby white fish on the fried mixed seafood platter were stone cold and shedding their thin veil of breading by the time they reached us. We waited more than half an hour for entrees, and, to his credit, our waiter noticed we were getting edgy and poured us a round of wine. But silly us, we thought it was gratis until we saw the $20 charge on the tab.

And there were too many misses. A vile veal dish, bocconcini di vitello, was four greasy nuggets with a thick coating of bread crumbs wrapped around melted Parmesan cheese that had a gamy flavor. And the heavy mantel of brown-edged potatoes on the sea bream (orato in Italian, dorada in Spanish) did not protect the delicate flesh from becoming dry and tasteless. Foccacia proffered by a dashing busboy was stiff and pretzel bread soggy, but on another visit, rolls and breads were divine.

Talking over the clatter of bottles and bodies is a challenge. Instead, study the wine list, a textbook on Italian wine and geography. Many of the more than 300 bottles have not been seen on these shores before. You can spend an inflated $1,200 for a 1999 Amarone or choose from several dozen decent bottles in the $30 range.

Though it's easy to spend a lot here, especially with a built-in 17 percent tip, prices are not obscene given the setting. Portions are perfect for a classic Italian-style dinner of four or more courses.

If skipping one, make it dessert. An insipid passion fruit semifreddo with a neon red blanket, a so-called lemon float, a chocolate Bavarian mousse and a cakelike tiramisu were far too boring. Pristine espressos almost make up for them.

Reviewed on September 28, 2006

velliott@MiamiHerald.com