No. 2: Maestro

If you believe important restaurants are serious-minded places with starchy staffers laboring under the weight of enormous expectations, take a trip to Maestro, a place that embodies the virtue that Italians call sprezzatura —the appearance of ease and naturalness.

Okay, the name sounds a little egotistical, but from the perfectly made Manhattans to the easygoing ebullience of sommelier Vincent Feraud (a man as happy to pour an $8 glass of house-blended wine as to pop the cork on a four-figure Champagne) to the cheery serenity of the open kitchen, where chef Fabio Trabocchi presides over a brigade of headset-wearing chefs, Maestro exudes a remarkable lightness of purpose.

There are two menus to pick from: one of traditional Italian dishes that taste contemporary, the other of forward-thinking dishes that are rooted in tradition. The best of them, though painstakingly thought through and methodically assembled, are so confident and assured that they give the illusion of inevitability.

That’s especially true of the pastas and fish, categories in which Trabocchi, when he is on top of his game, has no peer. The branzino, sauced with sweet, metallic-tasting Sunset Beach oysters frothed in butter and perfumed with a basil-based pesto called salmoriglio, is an exquisite expression of his style—clean yet decadent. A martini glass of yellowtail tartare is almost as good, its Champagne sabayon cleansing the palate for the bracing clarity of the fish. The lightness can be deceiving: A plate of agnolotti is so light you’re surprised by the gamy intensity of the lamb inside.