In the evenings, with the lights turned down low, the room at Dona exudes a particular kind of polished, old-fashioned, big-city sheen. The choice banquettes are occupied by uptown matrons with $400 hairdos, and the gentlemen clustered around the bar are dressed in sharp Italian suits. For dessert there’s a lemon soufflé, which was fallen when I sampled it, and a zucchini chocolate cake, which is notable, mostly, for the walnut gelato it’s served with, spiked with a hint of thyme. There’s a nice dome of white chocolate, too, with frozen nougat-flavored mousse hidden inside (avoid the raspberry-rose sorbet on top), and a pleasingly dense mousse made with bittersweet chocolate and swatches of salty caramel. These sweets are followed by the inevitable platter of petits fours, if you wish, or a selection of esoteric teas. They’re brought to the table by fleets of attentive waiters, and even, on occasion, by the boss herself, who prowls the room, smoothing tablecloths, conferring with waiters, and dispensing pleasantries to her patrons like an old-school restaurant don. Only this particular don is dressed for the new millennium, in her designer outfits and jeweled high-heel shoes.
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