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At this gaudy Times Square eatery, vibrant blue walls surround a noisy bar and dining room where office workers and theatergoers eat under large sculptures of rotini and gnocchi looming semi-threateningly overhead. As the title and décor suggest, the focus is on pasta, with nearly two dozen preparations to choose from. The kitchen’s modus operandi seems to be that of a mess hall, dishing out big portions with no regard for taste. An appetizer of calamari could feed four, but arrives in a spicy marinara sauce that smacks of bland tomato paste. Though scenes from Italy adorn the walls in a sort of last-ditch effort to link the food in front of you to its host country, any association with the boot stops there. Bowls of noodles arrive either drowning in sauce or devoid of it—too much garlic in one dish, too little salt in the next. As the flag bearing a martini glass outside the restaurant seems to suggest, it’s best to limit the experience here to drinks. — Michael Alan Connelly