The risotto underneath is on the chewy side, not in an exaggerated way, but just enough to break up the creamy richness. Among the halves are nine vintages of Opus One. This kind of list isn't assembled cheaply for a new restaurant, and the menu argues for a splurge on wine. There is still nothing in California with the crisp richness of real Chablis, and nothing like French wine with French or even French-ish food. Wine service is impeccable, and our server earned additional praise by skillfully tuning the half-bottle to our pace of dining.
Service is extensive but rather good, by a seamless system of captains and servers.
The main weakness of the Federalist is the room itself, which seems to pack too many ideas into too small a space. It is loud, crowded, and a little smoky from the adjoining bar. In addition to one of the most justifiably expensive dinners in town, the Federalist serves a power breakfast, a weekend brunch, and a lunch likely to be corrupted by the neighboring State House. My guess is that lobbyists are cutting back, or that no reporter can afford to go in and see what pols are present.