Back in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, Sfuzzi was the see-and-be-seen noshery to end all seeing scenes—you know, those best appreciated with sides of flatbread and other Cal-Ital grazing substance. Now it is back with a vengeance, a buzzing blitzkrieg of pizzas, pastas, steaks, and sandwiches.

Pizzas can be thin on their headlining ingredients, yet the eggs and bacon pizza—glistening with twin tiny sunny-side-up chick embryos—is a hit. The rib eye lacks rich flavor. Yet the Waygu meatball sub has supple beef balls and a tart tomato sauce for sass. Don’t miss the breaded portobello fries served with a tomato basil aïoli.

Save for these highlights, the menu is lackluster. But hell, you don’t patronize a spot like this for menu deftness, or even for its weak beer list or simpleton cocktails. You go for the stimulating nightlife, which is pure eye Godiva. Located next to the Ritz Carlton Hotel, Sfuzzi has a sizzling patio that draws a polished and exquisitely trimmed brand of sex appeal. Bands occasionally filter through, too, giving this scene retrofitted for refined leering some vibe.