
On this third go 'round, AB and I delighted in the homemade spicy, smoked Calabrian soft salame (aka 'nduja) and gobbled up the impossibly rich duck liver fegatini smothered in an intensely sweet tangle of caramelized balsamic onions.

Ah-mazing. The best thing we had that night. The duck conserva was uber-tender and succulent, the perfect kind of savory that complemented so well with the crispy sweet apple slivers, salty ricotta salata and baby spinach leaves.

Addictive stuff. I could happily eat Barbacco's duck salad every week.

By now we were starting to feel the hurt. Our bellies were well on their way to filling up, but we made room for the giganto polpette, crumbly Sicilian meatballs made with ricotta and lemon sitting atop a generous serving of braised escarole.

Yes, our eyes were bigger than our stomachs. The lamb sugo was probably the most pedestrian of all of the dishes, but was really quite well done—properly seasoned and the pasta al dente; it suffered for having to be compared against the rest.
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