It's so overcooked that it tastes like sawdust in which whole garlic cloves have been stuffed. And the platter of Spanish tapas is messy and unappetizing. The composition of the plates here always makes a statement. My pan-roasted black cod one evening comes with a wonderful white corn and asparagus succotash. Brazilian moqueca, a seafood stew of meaty shrimp, mussels, fish and cockles in a fragrant coconut-lime broth, is served over coconut rice.
Service is a problem.
Our waiter talks to us as if we're children and then disappears for 20 minutes at a time. One night I drive straight from the airport, where I'd picked up a friend from New York, and arrive at Ciudad at 10 minutes to 9. I'd heard that Randy St. Clair, executive chef at City Restaurant in the late '80s, had just taken the helm at Ciudad after cooking in Australia for many years. When we pull up in front, the valet says he's not sure if they're even open. We enter, but there's no one at the maitre d's podium and not a waiter in sight.