Myna ordered the Greek Salad, which is about what you'd expect. It wasn't breaking any new ground. Olives, cucumber, feta cheese, red onion, tomato, etc. Your standard Greek salad."Y'know, this is an Italian restaurant. Getting a Greek salad seems somewhat... I dunno. Sacrilegious" I said. "Well," came her reply. "Then they shouldn't have put it on the menu." It was a good salad. I chose the Grilled Calamari appetizer because I can't not order grilled calamari if I see it on a menu. It was supposed to be served with an arugula side salad, but really it seemed as though the salad was served with a side of calamari, given its relative size. And while it's hard to bemoan an arugula salad (though there are people who dislike arugula, which to me is akin to disliking the color tan or a plain cotton t-shirt), I would perhaps have preferred that it didn't dominate the dish. Anyway, how was the calamari you ask? Yummy. That's how it was.

As I said, Galli is comfort food. The entrees here aren't fancypants experiments of roast lamb with a veal-infused-butter-glaze under a Madeira reduction and a spoonful rosemary and dill creme-fraiche. Instead, they have spaghetti and meatballs. No shit. I didn't get it, but it's there. Instead, I went with the Chicken Francese, a seared chicken breast in a very thick, very delicious white wine and lemon sauce, with a side of somewhat generic veggies. Myna took a slightly healthier route and opted for the Sole, also pan seared, but breaded and with a side of spinach. Both were great and the fact that these common, relatively simple dishes can be made so well here at Galli only served to reinforce my utter loathing of the standard red sauce Italian restaurants that continue to make it poorly. Galli is proof that the dishes aren't at fault. Instead, it's the incompetency of the chefs and the complacency of the customers who deign to take good enough over good. Ugh.

The meal was good enough to make getting dessert an easy decision. I mean, we were on a roll.

Dessert was a Panna Cotta that was so silkily creamy that it was like eating a creme brulee without the sugar crust. Honestly, it was so smooth that logic would dictate that it shouldn't have been able to retain its shape and instead should have been a puddle at the bottom of the plate. If you go and are can't decide whether to get the panna cotta or something else, allow me to end the debate with "yes, get the panna cotta."