DALReview
Yes, Carbone is a transplant, but that’s sort of the appeal: in a city that often tries to be like New York, you can go full Manhattan caricature for a night at this Italian spot. Trendy-blazer, ripped-jeans clout chasers come here for a splurge, celebrating job promotions and anniversaries, when they’re probably just happier about being seen out drinking a martini. Even if you don’t care about being spotted, you’ll still have a dependable, upscale meal—the attentive service is quick to wipe away any misplaced parmesan and the tableside caesar salad and spicy rigatoni continue to be great.