It may be more South Beach than Tuscany, but the food here is first-rate.

The Scene
Call it Tuscan chic. The stylish crowd includes a mix of tourists and locals, some Ralph Lauren casual, others dressed to thrill. They jam into a faux-rustic dining room with rough-hewn stone walls and large expanses of burnished dark wood, deftly patrolled by a remarkably cheery and non-attitudinal staff.

The Food
First, catch your breath at the stratospheric prices and remember that most of the hugely portioned dishes will easily feed two. Then give in to gluttony and order. White truffle garlic bread is irresistible, though more stinking rose than ethereal tuber. Vegetable antipasti offers enough heft and variety to justify its $18 tariff (the goat cheese-stuffed artichoke heart is especially tasty). The signature Florentine T-bone is a carnivorous beauty, crusty on the outside and rosy rare within; so too is an equally massive veal chop tricked out with roasted tomatoes, radicchio and wild mushrooms. Tiramisu, alas, is flavorful but mushy