Lofty expectations: A night at Via Condotti

When a restaurant is launched by The Bertossi Group, the hospitality company behind establishments such as The Bicycle Thief, Amano, Il Mercato, Water Polo, Matadora and Pane e Circo, there are certain expectations. When Via Condotti arrived recently, it did so carrying lofty ones. The Bertossi Group does not lack bravado or confidence, and its past successes naturally invite a higher degree of scrutiny than many others receive.

So, when I arrived at Via Condotti, the initial impression was everything I expected and more. There were soaring ceilings, dramatic chandeliers with fanciful candy cane (or perhaps better said Strawberry Campino) coloured bulbs, and an overall polished urban aesthetic. It is a dining room that would feel equally comfortable in Toronto’s glamorous Yorkville district or downtown Manhattan as it does in downtown Halifax. The mix of couches, banquettes, high tops and traditional tables gives the space energy and flexibility.

At first glance, it feels like a restaurant aiming for a larger stage. Unfortunately, my food and drink experience never quite rose to meet the heights the room’s design promised. We arrived for pre-dinner drinks at 7pm ahead of a 7:45pm reservation. The evening was a milestone birthday celebration, so wine flowed.

The host was warm and welcoming, but the bar experience immediately felt disconnected from the ambition of the space. The bartender showed little engagement, dare I say disinterest. Thankfully, while banter with the bartender was non-existent, conversation amongst friends flowed nevertheless and time passed quickly as we awaited our table.

Finally, at 7:50pm, we were ushered into the main dining room. This is when those lofty expectations really began to fall back to earth. Complimentary appetizers lacked inspiration. The “rosemary focaccia” arrived with scarcely a trace of its namesake herb, while the pickled vegetables (carrot and cauliflower) tasted more like raw vegetables splashed with aggressive vinegar alongside slices of commercial salami. I appreciated the gesture, but perhaps it would have been better had it been a little more thoughtfully composed.

At nearly 9pm, the appetizers finally arrived. To be honest, so much time had passed that I briefly questioned whether we had actually ordered them at all. The dining room was only about half full at this point, making the delay somewhat surprising. If nothing else, it gave time for a few glasses of perfectly pleasant Pecorino and Vermentino to become a shared bottle of Vernaccia di San Gimignano, a zippy Tuscan white attempting to reclaim its reputation as one of Italy’s great white wines after years of overproduction fuelled by the tourist crowds descending upon the town each year.

When the first courses arrived, there were flashes of promise. The scallops themselves were hard little rubber pucks, but the accompanying sauce carried sweetness and depth. My seafood fritto misto was notably generous, with an abundance of calamari and two large shrimp, offering appealing flavours alongside a pleasantly tangy sauce. Though the batter leaned slightly heavy for my taste, it nevertheless represented excellent value at its $16 price point.

Admittedly, the previous week I had been travelling through Campania and Sicily, leading a group through the restaurants and wineries of Southern Italy. Any comparisons to the fritto misto I enjoyed in Catania (Sicily), in the proverbial homeland, may therefore be somewhat unfair.

Main courses, however, struggled with execution. My partner’s cacio e pepe arrived oddly dry, missing the glossy, silky emulsion that gives the dish its comforting simplicity. Perhaps a little more finishing pasta water would have given it the light creamy texture I expected. More disappointing was my mushroom and truffle risotto, which showed little discernible truffle character and had drifted well beyond creamy into heavy, stodgy and overcooked territory. It was one of those rare dishes where the texture alone quietly signals you to stop eating. I left mine almost completely untouched.

Not every plate missed the mark. A friend’s branzino was moist and flavourful, while another enjoyed the halibut, though its pronounced spice, presumably from an ’nduja component, felt somewhat overwhelming to the rest of the dish. An order of wild boar pappardelle, meanwhile, was generous in portion but lacked the earthy, game-driven depth associated with the great versions found throughout Tuscany and Umbria. Perhaps that is simply the reality of Nova Scotian farmed “wild boar”, which understandably cannot replicate the intensity of flavour of boar foraging through the forests and hillsides of central Italy. Note, I do not know the source of the boar. I am only speculating. 

Service reflected a restaurant still finding its rhythm. Our server was pleasant and well-intentioned but at times lacked confidence when navigating questions about the menu and wine list. Billing errors involving multiple glasses of wine added further friction to the evening. I would have expected if there was confusion, a simple question of who had what before passing on the bills may have saved some frustration. Granted, we were a table of six enjoying various pours throughout the night, but by meal’s end there remained roughly $110 worth of food and wine on my bill that I had not consumed, including approximately $75 in miscellaneous glasses of wine.

To the restaurant’s credit, the on-site management handled the situation graciously. Danika, the manager on duty, was warm, apologetic and genuinely seemed to care. Still, by the time mains had lingered on the table and the evening was approaching 10:30pm, I no longer had either the patience or state of mind to untangle every discrepancy. If friends happened to enjoy a few glasses of wine at my expense, so be it, though the experience did leave me questioning whether internal communication or service systems had broken down somewhere along the way.

More frustrating was that my untouched risotto sat in front of me for at least thirty minutes without any meaningful check-in. I rarely, if ever, complain, but the lack of a check-in led me to finally, and perhaps not so delicately, mention its poor quality to our server as they were clearing the mains.  With so much time passing, my frustration had largely settled into resignation. Notably, I did not ask for the risotto to be removed from the bill. By that stage, it was no longer about the money so much as the cumulative feeling that the evening had drifted further away from the promise of the room itself.

The wine programme mirrors the overall experience: visually polished but somewhat conservative beneath the surface. The Italian and French-leaning list is approachable and competent, though very safe, featuring many of the same producers seen across restaurants throughout the city. There is nothing inherently wrong with that, but neither is there much that feels inspired either. A restaurant with this much visual ambition would benefit from taking a deeper look at its food and beverage execution. On the wine side, I think just a few more adventurous regional Italian selections, emerging producers or unexpected by-the-glass offerings could inject much-needed personality into the programme. A closer eye on serving temperatures would also help, as whites arrived overly chilled while reds were served too warm.

Via Condotti feels like a restaurant with all the visual ingredients for greatness, but not yet the consistency to support them. Then again, the restaurant was nearly full on a Monday night. Perhaps I simply caught it on an off evening, or maybe Halifax diners place greater emphasis on beautiful surroundings and atmosphere than I do.

There is no denying this was a significant investment and with some improvements will be a great fit for the beautiful Mills Residences, the building the restaurant is in on the corner of Spring Garden Road and Queen Street in Halifax. 

That said, based on this visit, I think somewhere along the way the service and culinary execution have drifted apart from the aesthetic. Expect to spend roughly $150 to $180, plus tax and tip, for two glasses of wine, two appetizers, two pastas or mains, and a shared dessert. And considerably more if celebrating as enthusiastically as we were on this evening. 

At the end of the day, while Bertossi’s marquee operations, such as Via Condotti, Water Polo and The Bicycle Thief, are undeniably beautiful and bustling, my personal favourites of theirs will remain their less formal spaces, such as Amano and Il Mercato. And while the meal itself disappointed, the company and décor ensured we had an enjoyable experience, despite the challenges.