While the fare at Casa Mono still tickles my palate, especially on cold winter nights, I have, to date, walked out of the restaurant twice upon being intercepted, Gestapo-style, by a ludicrously rude hostess, and chosen to take my business elsewhere repeatedly rather than face the pompous staff that mars what could otherwise be a comendable and creative culinary experience. If there is ever a wake-up call to a chef, then his fans' foresaking his cooking for less laudable fare ONLY to save themselves the ire of having to deal with his insufferable staff - well, that should at least sound a few alarm bells. Of course, the super-cramped space (which the right atmosphere could sway toward ""cozy"") and the atrociously-priced wine list (which I'd be ever more inclined to splurge on had my mood not been ruined at the door on more than one occasion) don't help. Of course, you can always go next door to the even more cramped, albeit apparently friendlier, Bar Jamon - but beware, it is, of course, jointly managed and subject to the same pitfalls. It really is too bad - I do love the food.
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