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This venue is closed.

For obvious reasons—its leafy open-air space, central location, and prime people-watching—Luna Park is packed on clement summer nights. Red and white umbrellas lend the sunken restaurant and bar a Monte Carlo feel that attracts a languorous afternoon confluence of trust-funders and models; five o'clock and the vine-covered bar pull in hoards of after-work denizens ready for a frozen daiquiri—or a beer—under the evening sky. Too bad for them, most folks teeter home having tasted no more than the pizza, which is scrumptious and thin-crusted. A closer look at the spare menu—updated annually with the customary arrival of a new chef—reveals Mediterranean small plates, salads, pressed sandwiches, and entrées with flavors that smack of the neighboring farmer's market. Gazpacho is zingy and fresh. Salmon is partnered with sweet corn, salty pancetta, and earthy shiitakes. And handkerchiefs of fresh pasta conceal rich shreds of duck in a sage-spiked broth. For those who prefer to drink with their dinner, arancini—crispy, fried balls of wild-mushroom risotto and melted fontina—are the kind of cocktail companion that'll save you from that Cosmo-induced hangover the next morning. — Colleen McKinney