Hello, Brooklyn! Zagat 2009 Guide to Kings County

Il Passatore is my FAVORITE neighborhood restaurant! Never once had a bad experience there, and I go often. All pasta is made fresh, their prices are amazing and they have a delicious rotating specials menu to keep things interesting. The staff is funny and nice, they obviously care greatly about their place, and make sure you have a nice shot of sambuca or lemoncello on the way out. In fact, I took 5 friends there last night, and each and every one raved so enthusiastically to the chef that even *I* blushed. I highly recommend this place, regardless of the one bad experience "Mll" feels he/she had there.

Did you really need to link to your review and quote it in full here?

I wish they'd just pick a name for the library and leave it. It's been called the Ingersoll Memorial, the main branch and now the Central Library.

Il Passatore?!?! What a load of crap! That must the most odious place runned by the biggest bunch of imbeciles I've ever had the displeasure of eating at.

My review of Il Passatore from YELP:

http://www.yelp.com/biz/il-passatore-brooklyn

Why is it that people who obviously know nothing about food, and even less about running a restaurant, decide to waste everyone's time, energy, hard-earned money, scarce real estate, and edible resources by dropping a rancid turd like Il Passatore and pretending it's a legitimate restaurant?

After inquiring why an hour had passed since taking our orders and still no food had appeared, our server had the Nero-sized gall to inform us it was because we had only ordered one appetizer!

That kind of logic may fly at a men's room in Ibiza, or wherever our CK-One drenched server happen to hail from, but certainly not a place that claims to make their own pasta. Which, by the way, tasted like Chef Boyardee and had the texture and consistency of something one finds in a dumpster behind Planned Parenthood. The pasta actually congealed itself into one solid mass, and when picked up by a fork managed to retain the shape of the dish. The duck breast with soft polenta and balsamic reduction was an insult to all waterfowl ever served. How one manages to suck all the juicy goodness out of a fatty duck breast and turn it into strips chewier than a Gucci loafer takes a special Corky-esque flair. The soft polenta piled on the plate sad and pathetic as if passed through a murder of crows and crapped upon a pool of A1 sauce. The La Piada? Pita bread + cheese + George Forman grill = A northern Italian specialty perfected by dorm rooms around the world.

I'm usually not one to complain about restaurants, mainly because they have the benefit of my doubt, and I have a lot of respect for people that, despite the hard work and daunting prospects, still manage to open and run a restaurant. But my experience at Il Passatore was a complete farce, and it makes me question whether any of the authors of the other reviews actually ate there.

Perhaps they were so overwhelmed by the "prosciutto and melon", which is hardly the barometer one uses to judge the overall food by, or exude the quality to others. I'm sure even the ex-cons cooking at Olive Garden could manage to pick out a ripe cantaloupe and slice some ham. Or perhaps they were too taken by the "cozy charm" of the rustic ambiance, or the repeatedly mentioned Mediterranean accents, which evoked memories of backpacking through Europe in search of one's self, and the unbridled erotic journey that was Milan to Minsk. Like those memories, let's see Il Passatore for what it is under the harsh light of reality; a cliched and flaccid attempt, where your insides take a punishment, walk away drunk and a few dollars lighter. It's probably more satisfying to think that you left a savvier and more fulfilled person for having experienced something so "authentic"; instead of having been screwed by a couple of Italians with questionable taste, and no regard for what one puts in one's mouth.

If you're in the neighborhood and you're hungry, save your money and go to the White Castle around the corner. If you're in mood for Italian, go to one of those red sauce places on Graham. Or even better, head to Aurora, where they actually know fresh made pasta. Or Roberta's, off the Morgan stop, for amazing pizza. But if you just want to throw your money away and reaffirm your suspicion that all young cargo pants and beaded bracelet wearing Italians are douche-bags, then go to Il Passatore - where dysentery is baked fresh on the premises.

I give Il Passatore one star, mainly because the furniture didn't collapse or give me the clap.

Corrected, thanks!

Garden Cafe is in Prospect Heights, no?