Fresco by Scotto

Everything is over-the-top at this deafening, crowded place, from the double-barrel name (does a restaurant really need a byline?) to the fried calamari piled a foot high and the even taller prices. Still, the lengthy menu offers tasty choices despite an unbecoming emphasis on the pecuniary side of things: If you turn down the $9 bread basket, your server will graciously offer you complimentary bread as if it were a special dispensation. The giant $42 veal chop is enough for two (or three), but there’s a penalty for sharing. The ice-cream sandwich—Bill Clinton allegedly ate ten of them one night—was a dinner-plate-sized, blurry mélange of dry praline meringue and cloying cinnamon ice cream with overly sweet chocolate sauce.